ACT TWO, chapter twenty—seven :
i was out my head, i was out of control
thought i was living, but i wasn't

ϟ

Severus entered the Headmaster's office with a ready sigh, "What possibly could be so urgent, Albus, that it could not wait until the sun had risen? Are you aware that it's nearly two — in — the — morning?"

Albus blinked, looking shocked, as if anything could shock the all—knowing old codger, "Ah. For that, I apologise. Sometimes these things get away from me; I'm not sleeping half as well as I used to with Sirius Black now on the loose. I must confess that I'm surprised you are?"

Severus gritted his teeth. That was entirely besides the point. Through his teeth, he managed, "Just spit it out already, Albus. I'm tired and I'm not in the mood for games."

"Very well, my dear boy." Albus smiled, as if amused at having riled him up. The sadistic old b—stard. "In any case, I'm afraid I wanted to ask you for a favour. As you already know, tonight is the full moon."

Severus barely held in a groan, "Yes, and I personally delivered the Wolfsbane Potion on time to his office, on his very desk. Does Lupin — in all his furry glory — have a complaint?"

"Not a complaint, no; in fact, he expressed his gratitude for your assistance."

F—ck Remus Lupin and f—ck Albus Dumbledore, too. Merlin, but Severus was tired. Sighing, he massaged his temples where a headache was pounding and he replied, "I merely brewed what you instructed me to at the beginning of the year. There is no need for any great thanks for that, I do not want them."

"Ah," here Albus smiled, almost devilishly, "But he was grateful for your help with his classes as well."

A beat. Then: "I — beg — your — pardon?"

"It seems it escaped my mind at the beginning of the year to ask you to sub in for Remus, the night after the full moon. He's quite poorly and he can hardly handle teaching so many classes after a night like that."

"This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't hired a bloody werewolf in the first place."

"Severus," Albus sighed heavily and leant back in his great chair, "You just said how tired you were, aren't you tired of having this conversation yet again?"

Severus pressed his lips until they turned thin and pale.

"So, I can assume you'll take over Remus' classes for the day?"

The moment lingered.

Then, Severus nodded sharply, just once. Fully exhausted, he asked, "Was there anything else?"

"Yes, I'm afraid that..." Albus hesitated, which was worrisome all on its own, "Severus, why don't you sit down?"

"No." He bit back, adding belatedly, "Thank you."

"Sit, Severus," Albus repeated more forcefully this time, so Severus felt compelled to obey the tone very cautiously. The Headmaster gave a small smile and held a tin of familiar sweets out to him, "Sherbet lemon?"

Severus arched a dangerous brow.

The older wizard heaved a weary sigh and set the silver tin back onto his desk before intertwining his hands before him. "I'm afraid, Severus, there has been a... complication."

Merlin but that could mean a host of terrible things, couldn't it?

"Complication." Severus intoned lowly. "In what way?"

"As we all know, Bellatrix Lestrange escaped two months ago with Sirius Black." Severus waited for the other proverbial wand to drop. "But last night, Warden Ashbluff stumbled upon a woman matching Bellatrix's description in a cell in Azkaban."

For a full minute, Severus could not comprehend what was being said to him.

Then, shaking his head just slightly, he began, "You're saying..."

"That there are two Bellatrix Lestrange's out there; one in Azkaban and another on the run, possibly on her way here."

"Why—? How—?" Severus squeezed his eyes shut, remembering that Albus likely had no idea either. He gritted his teeth before managing to say, "Surely there must be some way to prove which is the real one... What of the woman they still have imprisoned? Is there no one to Legilimise her mind?"

"As I cannot be seen at Azkaban," Albus began pointedly, eyeing him speculatively over his half—moon glasses, "And there is only one other Legilimens who is more talented than even I..."

"No." Severus fully recoiled, hissing with utmost vitriol, "No, Albus, absolutely not!"

"Severus—,"

"I won't get in her head!" He was very nearly shouting, something that felt very much like panic making him sound strangled and hoarse. "Not again, not ever again!"

To see her again, to even be within touching distance, to enter her head... no. He could not dare contemplate it.

"Then," sighed Albus, "I am afraid that we must merely wait and see."

Feeling utterly, sick, Severus turned and swept (practically ran, practically fled) from the Headmaster's office before slamming the door soundly behind him.

Wait and see, indeed.

ϟ

"Turn to page 394."

Lili blinked in surprise after having watched none other than Severus Snape stride through the DADA classroom, snapping all the windows closed and whipping down a screen over the blackboard with harsh, swift movements. Then, her father swiveled to glare at them. When everyone stared for a moment — bewildered at his presence, he arched a menacing brow that got the entire class of Gryffindors and Slytherins moving.

Lili opened her textbook without qualms, flipping studiously through the pages before exchanging a glance with Harry, a silent question forming between them. He gave a nod.

Taking initiative, Harry leant forward in his seat at her side, "Excuse me, sir, but... where's Professor Lupin?"

Halfway down the aisle of desks, Snape's gaze snapped to his face, "That's not really your concern, is it, Potter? Suffice it to say, your professor finds himself incapable of teaching at the present time. Page 3—9—4."

Lili frowned slightly. Incapable of teaching... Strange turn of phrase. Was Lupin sick or something? Clearly, Ron was taking too long because with a sharp and irritated swish of her father's wand, the book whirled to the correct page, and the redheaded boy jumped.

Making a face, he blurted, "Werewolves?"

"But, sir," Hermione suddenly spoke from beside Ron, startling him half out of his shoes. "We've only just begun learning about Red Caps and Hinkypunks. We're not meant to start nocturnal beasts for weeks—,"

"Quiet." Snape drawled.

Ron leant 'cross the aisle to whisper in outrage, "When did she come in? Did you see her come in?!"

Lili and Hermione exchanged a knowing smirk. Neither boy seemed to notice.

"Now." Her father set into his lecture, peering at the long screen, "Which of you can tell me the difference between an Animagus and a werewolf?"

Hermione's hand instantly shot up.

Lili tapped her nails patiently against her cheek. As a rule, she did not answer questions in her father's classes — just to ensure that no one ever called out any nepotism or anything else equally stupid. Honestly, chance would've been a fine thing. While the class stared mutely at a slide of an attacking werewolf, Hermione waited desperately for someone to respond to Snape's question with her hand still raised.

"Psst."

Both Lili and Harry glanced over to see Draco sending over a paper note as if a bird with wings.

"No one...?" Her father drawled rudely. "How disappointing."

"Please, sir," her best friend eagerly spoke up, making Lili wince with regret (oh, Hermione). Still, she was happy to explain, "An Animagus is a wizard who elects to turn into an animal. A werewolf has no choice in the matter. Furthermore, the werewolf actively hunts humans and responds only to the call of its own kind—,"

Draco suddenly let out a howl, grinning to himself.

Ugh. Children.

Lili rolled her eyes while his fan club cackled.

"Thank you, Mister Malfoy." Snape cut in, tone chiding and annoyed. "Though one must admit to feeling your pain. That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger. Tell me. Are you incapable of restraining yourself? Or do you take pride in being an insuff—?"

Then, shockingly, halfway through his insult, Snape's dark eyes suddenly darted to Lili who glowered darkly and very pointedly at him. With a fascinating twist of his features, looking a bit in pain, her father recoiled from her best friend and straightened himself up.

Ron whispered, "He might as well say 'know—it—all', we all know it's true."

Hermione shot their friend a frown.

Lili backhanded his arm with a dark scowl, "Not helping, Ronald."

Snape swallowed what must surely have been the taking of points from Gryffindor and turned back to the rest of the class.

"As an antidote to your ignorance, I prescribe two rolls of parchment on the werewolf by Monday morning," ignoring the groans of his students, her father scowled at each and every one of them, "With particular emphasis placed on recognising it."

Strangely enough, Harry didn't argue — even though Lili knew he had Quidditch tomorrow.

Really, how much had this summer spent stuck together changed things?

Instead, she curiously watched as her friend slowly unfolded Draco's paper bird. Oh. Both kids stared dully at the parchment. Draco had drawn a crude caricature of Harry (with his messy hair and distinctive scar) sitting on his broom, arms jerking when lightning struck him over and over again.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Snape glancing at her grim face and suddenly her father snatched the drawing from under Harry's nose.

"Passing notes, Potter?"

Her father eyed it. Something strange happened to his face. A flash of darkness (anger? concern?) and then it was gone, hidden behind a cold indifferent mask of nastiness.

"Hm. Not exactly Picasso, are you?" He dropped the note carelessly onto their desk, sneering down his nose at her friend. "I hope you demonstrate more talent on the Quidditch pitch this weekend than you do as an artist, Potter. If not, I fear you'll perish, given the weather forecast. Until that time, however, you'll forgive me if I don't let you off homework. Should you die, I assure you... you — need — not — hand it in."

Lili wanted to be angry, downright furious actually, but she remembered that strange flicker in his eyes, and it took all her anger and swirled it into confusion.

Of course the emotion quickly returned as soon as Snape swirled away, because Draco sniggered with the ejits Crabbe, Goyle, and Pike. Swallowing hard, Harry glanced down at the drawing once more and Lili swiped the paper, crumpled it in one fist, and hurled it across the aisle to hit Draco squarely in the forehead. Her childhood friend (and cousin) flinched and looked a bit scandalised. It was wildly satisfying.

Lili grinned maliciously, "Serves you right, you f—,"

"Lilium Snape."

Her father's sharp voice and the snap of a book made her jump, everyone looking to the front of the class where Snape was glaring at her.

"I would appreciate it if during my lectures, your mouth remained closed and silent."

"Yes, Professor. Sorry, Professor."

Her cheeks were pink with the attention, and yet, she felt no regret at all. Out of the corner of her eye, Harry smiled gratefully at her. As she continued taking notes on werewolves, Lili found herself smiling, too.

ϟ

Quidditch turned out to be a dangerous affair, as always.

Tragically, Draco's sketched prophecy wasn't too far off, and the match against Hufflepuff was destined for catastrophe. From the word 'go', it was utterly pouring. Lili was completely soaked to the skin, like even her internal organs were drenched in rainwater. Her black sweater and black fringe clung to her skin, water drops trickling down the sides of her face. Her black umbrella was doing jack shite at keeping the rain off her and Hermione, and they were about as dry as Ron who they'd left to shift for himself in the first place.

The Snape girl squinted upward through the rain, the players little more than streaking blurs from her position in the stands. With a frightening sizzling snap, a stitch of lightning exploded the tail of Johnson's broom, and when it immediately burst into flames, the older Gryffindor girl plummeted wildly towards the pitch. Lili glanced down at her own arm, and in the air that crackled with energy and power, the fine pale hair near her wrist had risen.

Simply put: uh oh.

Lili gasped when someone suddenly fell through the churning clouds, and she sighed in obvious relief when she realised it wasn't the Gryffindor seeker. As far as Lilium Snape was concerned, literally anybody else could bounce off the earth, breaking all the bones in their body, as long as it wasn't Harry Potter.

(Sort of) safe up in the sky, Harry fearlessly searched for the Snitch as Bludgers pierced the clouds above him and chasers flitted in and out of view.

Suddenly, a sharp gust of wind stole the black umbrella from Lili's grasp. The girl let out a yelp of surprise when it was ripped from hand, sailing almost beautifully through the heavy until it abruptly picked up speed and started up spinning like a d—mn hatchet. Lili winced when Harry was forced to duck her flying umbrella, and they both watched it disappear into a bank of low stormy clouds. But then, it must have been a least slightly helpful because it brought his attention towards the glimmering Snitch.

Instantly, Harry jetted off closing fast on the tiny ball, chasing it through one cloud... then another... and another... until... they could no longer see him.

One breath. Two. Three, four, five, six... Lightning struck.

For a frozen moment, the light crackled through the clouds and illuminated an army of silhouettes drifting above the pitch — a vast legion of Dementors. Then through the dark clouds and needle—like rain, Harry finally appeared.

Falling.

Hermione gasped while Lili hoarsely shouted, "No!"

Lili watched helplessly when Harry and his broom tumbled limply through the sky, tossing end over end in freefall, dropping through clouds like tearing through cotton, plummeting through the circling Dementors.

Then, across the pitch — in the professors' tower, a dark figure rose from the crowd with an open hand extended to the heavens. Eyes black and angry but clear. When he spoke, it was like an explosion, and something even more powerful than thunder and more fierce than lightning shocked the air.

"Arresto momentum!"

It wasn't Dumbledore, no, it was someone much closer to her.

It was Severus bloody Snape.

The next half an hour was a whirlwind of chaos that Lili could barely process.

Harry's fellow teammates were just as shaken up as his closest friends, and The Boy Who Lived was boarded onto a stretcher as they all scurried after the professors on their way to the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey were already pulling various Quidditch players back together again while Harry laid unconscious. He looked pale and a bit scraped, and his hair was as unruly as always. Lili wrapped her thumb and two good fingers round Harry's hand, hating how cold and clammy it felt.

Ron scrunched his nose down at their friend, "Looks a bit peaky, doesn't he?"

"Peaky?" Fred repeated, "What d'you expect him to look like? He fell fifty feet."

"Yea, c'mon, Ron," George added sassily, "We'll walk you off the Astronomy Tower and see how you come out looking."

Despite her worry, Lili found herself smirking but then she jumped when Harry's dry voice filled the air, "Probably a right sight better than he normally does."

The girl held her breath 'til her friend opened his familiar green eyes. He took them each in slowly, those surrounding his hospital cot, trailing from Ron to Fred, George to Hermione, and finally to Lili herself. When his eyes finally met hers, the girl dropped his hand as if it burnt her and she stumbled back a step or two.

"Harry!" Hermione burst with concern, "How're you feeling?"

"Brilliant," he grumbled as the boy edged up against his pillow.

Fred continued good—naturedly, "Gave us a right good scare, mate."

Harry's eyes trailed to Lili who fidgeted where she stood, leg bouncing and arms wrapped tightly round herself.

"Sorry," he murmured softly before glancing at everyone else, "What happened?"

Ron, oh—so—helpfully, explained, "You fell off your broom."

"Really?" Harry replied sarcastically while Lili slightly rolled her eyes. He continued, "I meant the match. Who won?"

Silence. Uncomfortable silence as they all glanced at one another.

But Lili knew what he meant (even if it was bloody stupid) so, with a sigh, she took it upon herself to properly explain, "Hufflepuff. Their seeker, Diggory(?); he caught the Snitch, right after you fell."

Harry groaned and put his face to his knees, his hands gripping too tightly at his hair. Lili wanted to take and hold his hand again.

"No one blames you, Harry," Hermione added softly, expression soft with sympathy. "The Dementors aren't meant to come on the grounds. Dumbledore was furious. After Snape caught you, the Headmaster sent them straight off."

"Wait—, Snape?" Harry's wide eyes darted to Lili, "Snape caught me?"

She understood his look, his confusion. Honestly, why had her father — of all people — saved Harry who was apparently 'The Brat Who Lived', according to Snape? A favour for the son of his dead friend? Lili couldn't be sure, and by the looks of it, neither could Harry. Still...

"Yes. He used a slowing charm, I think, to make sure you didn't hit the ground, rather keep you hovering instead of falling." Biting her lip, Lili murmured with a lost, distant expression, "Snape was angry, very angry. I've not seen him like that, not in a long time. The minute you broke through the clouds, my father was on his feet and storming onto the field."

"It's a wonder the Dementors stayed as long as they did." Ron chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck, "I'd have gone running, if Snape had come at me like that..."

"That's when Dumbledore spelled off all the Dementors," Hermione added, voice trembling. "He waved his wand and shot silver stuff at them. They left the stadium straight away..."

Harry nodded grimly, staring out at the rain lashing the window. The others exchanged nervous glances. No one was particularly eager to tell him the next bit. But rules were rules. They'd played Paper, Scissors, Rock, and Ron had lost, so...

"There's something else you should know, Harry." The redhead started, looking just as pale as Harry right now, "Your Nimbus — when it blew away? — it sort of landed in the Whomping Willow. And well..."

He reached for something at his feet and gently tipped a bag of splintered wood and twisted twigs onto the bed. Here laid the shattered remains of Harry's Nimbus 2000.

"I'm so sorry, Harry..." Lili whispered, meaning it.

Harry nodded, staring out the window, not saying a single word.

Madam Pomfrey clicked over to insist her friend remain in the Hospital Wing for the rest of the weekend, and after a few groans and complaints from the team, the mediwitch informed everyone to leave the boy in peace. Soon, they trooped out under her disapproving stare, trailing mud behind them with every step. But the Snape girl refused to leave when everyone else did, and even Pomfrey's stern glare couldn't convince her to move.

Dully, Harry looked across his pillow to mutter, "You don't have to stay, you know."

"I know." Lili bit her lip, feeling suddenly bashful when she peeked from under her lashes, "I just mean, I'll stay if you want me to stay...?"

Instantly, "Stay."

So, Lili stayed.

Harry didn't want to talk much, and that was fine by Lili whose strengths did not lie in encouraging conversation. Through the rest of the evening, her friend received gifts and get well cards, and Oliver Wood even sneaked in to inform Harry (in a very hollow, dead tone) that he didn't blame him in the slightest for the loss. Yet Lili had it on good authority (i.e. Fred) that the Gryffindor captain had spent the last five hours in the showers, probably trying to drown himself.

Of course this didn't make Harry feel better at all.

Hours and hours later, Lili got herself an idea. She knew she couldn't sleep here, or at least shouldn't, and while she knew she'd a small stock of Dreamless Sleep hidden away in her potions box under her bed (it would see her through a few more nights), it wouldn't last nearly long enough. So, she asked Madam Pomfrey for a few doses (just in case), but it didn't go the way she had hoped.

"That's it?" Her voice was steady but thin, barely betraying the quivering fear just beneath.

"Yes, that's it," Madam Pomfrey replied sternly, hands on her hips, "You've met the maximum dosage, Miss Lilium, and you know this. Any more, and I fear you may develop a dependence."

It was time to back down, lest the mediwitch get suspicious or, worse, share concerns with her father. Still, she couldn't help but eye the locked potions cabinet for a moment longer.

"Right..."

Lili uneasily slipped back over to Harry's bedside where her friend slept none—the—wiser. And somehow she was all right without the potion. She still managed to fall asleep peacefully with her head on his pillow, their faces pressed close, breaths shared between them. Lili only woke when she heard a familiar low voice seething on the other side of the curtain Madam Pomfrey had erected for privacy.

Curiously, Lili pushed herself up and crept over to the curtain to listen closer.

Pushing himself onto his elbows, Harry shot her a confused look.

"—Even doing on the field?" The voice hissed, familiarly low and slow and deeply bitterly.

With a great sigh, it was Dumbledore who replied, "I imagine the Dementors believed Sirius Black might use the game as cover to get to Harry."

"Oh, a likely story — as if they could not help themselves." It was Snape who scoffed derisively. "Truly, Dementors are an ingenious method of keeping Potter safe. After all, Black cannot kill him if they finish the job first."

"Severus. I have banished them to the edge of the grounds, it will not happen again."

"Oh, will it not? How can you be certain, Albus? How can you know for sure that they won't seize the very next opportunity to—?"

The voices stopped.

Lili didn't have enough time to backpedal when the curtain was ripped open and she was face—to—face with the Potions Master and the Headmaster of Hogwarts. D—mn.

"I knew it." Snape sneered down at her. "You've been spying. Again. Can you not do as I ask... just once?"

"It doesn't seem likely," Lili winced, genuinely sympathetic.

He glowered.

But then Snape caught Harry's curious eyes, and he looked startled for a moment, as if he hadn't known the boy was awake or hadn't wanted to be seen.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor," he finally determined in his usual low (but strangely weary) voice. "For sheer suicidal stupidity."

"What?!" Harry cried in outrage, but both Snape's ignored him for the moment.

Lili studied his face, and she saw the same flicker in his eyes that she did in his classroom yesterday. Anger. Concern. And finally, relief. He had been worried about Harry. About Harry bloody Potter, The Boy Who Lived To Annoy Severus Snape.

So, looking into her father's eyes, Lili smiled.

ϟ

Harry didn't understand Snape, not at all.

After he'd nearly died (again) on the Quidditch pitch, Snape had found him in the Hospital Wing and had acted all... weird. Weird like how he'd been a few times this year — when he was not being a complete git, that is. There were times, during this summer especially but sometimes even during school, that Snape hadn't actually been too terrible to him. And wouldn't last year's Harry be shocked to hear himself think that?

It was lunchtime, and Harry poked at his meal with no real appetite. He was still sad about his broom, and so his patience was rather thin. The girls were off doing whatever it was the girls did when they weren't with Harry and Ron, and his best mate had been shooting him weird looks all morning. It was getting annoying.

Finally, Harry sighed and set down his fork beside the plate. "All right, Ron, just spit it out before it chokes you."

So, through a mouthful of roast, Ron blurted, "Why would Snape save you?"

"What?" He made a face, brows furrowed in confusion. "For Lili, obviously."

His best friend looked skeptical.

Now, Harry was really confused. "What? You think he did the spell on the pitch because of me?"

"Well, he could've let someone else do it..." The redhead answered lightly, one shoulder shrugging to his ear, "I just wondered, maybe you're not the only one he's a bit attached to...?"

Ron looked a bit disgusted by this but said nothing more.

Understandably, Harry had a hard time accepting that Professor Snape would actually like him enough to be worried about him. It was probably for Lili, really, but wouldn't a lot of Snape's problems be solved if Harry did indeed die? Then the Potions Master wouldn't have to suffer having his only child be friends with The Bloody Boy Who Lived. Yea. So, that was it. He didn't like Harry, and he only saved Harry's life for Lili's sake. Simple as that.

... Right?

ϟ

Lili had been thinking. A lot.

When her father scolded her last week, he said that something was going on with her DADA professor, and for some reason, she should have noticed what it was. Apparently, her observational skills had been failing her. So. Lilium Snape hit the books, specifically the yearbooks. She had learnt her lesson when it came to not checking yearbooks for her mother in First Year; she wasn't about to make the same mistake twice.

That was when she came across a very odd discovery.

One that her father must've surely been aiming her towards.

Her journey to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was lonely and near silent as most of everyone else was eating in the Great Hall. She knocked on the professor's office door and waited... and waited... and waited... Then, finally, there was a quiet shuffle on the other side, and the door creaked open to allow a sliver of Remus Lupin's surprised face to appear.

"Professor?"

"Oh, hullo, Lili."

Lili forced a smile. Lupin, quite frankly, looked more than a bit sh—t. He was even more poorly than usual, his hair mussed and his clothes practically hanging off his lanky frame. He looked battered and beaten up. A teacher. Just what the hell was going on with this man?

"I wanted to see if you were all right, since you missed class..."

Lupin smiled in return, "That's quite kind of you, Lili, thank you. I'm doing better, ready for class next week."

"Oh good," said Lili, forced casually, "All the Gryffindors will be relieved at least."

The ashy man puffed a quiet laugh, "How much homework did Professor Snape assign?"

"More than you would, at any rate."

Instinctively, quickly, her eyes darted to his arms, to his scars, surprised to find them more vivid and angry than usual, but at least no new ones had joined the painful canvas.

"Actually," Lili shifted the book under her arm, keeping her face open and sweet, "Could I talk with you for a minute, sir? I have some questions I was hoping you could answer."

"Certainly." Lupin opened the office door wider and waved her towards a chair in front of his full but organised desk. "Feel free to take a seat. Can I offer you anything? I might have some tea, somewhere..."

"No, but thank you," Lili replied, perching herself neatly on the chair, holding the yearbook carefully in her lap. 

"Is this a Defense question?"

"Not... quite."

"Ah." Lupin paused and cast her a weary but amused glance. "I'm guessing your father wouldn't want us talking about anything not school related, you know, Lili."

"To be fair, Professor, my father doesn't like me talking to much of anybody — even my friends."

Lupin snorted softly and sat in his chair behind his desk. "Very well. I suppose I can answer a few of your questions, then. What's been on your mind?"

Lili took a breath to prepare herself, and then spoke bravely, "I've been wondering about our last conversation, about my father's dislike for you, when you said you weren't a bully. Only... you didn't say that, exactly. Did you?"

The professor's face was halfway wary and halfway sad, like he couldn't decide how to feel but none of it was good.

"You asked if you looked like a bully, and I still don't think you do. But I know my father. His hatred for you has been long, I can see that, and while my father likes almost no one, this mostly translates to cold disinterest unless he has reason. So I thought if you weren't a bully in his schooldays, you must have some sort of connection to one."

Dawning realisation crossed Lupin's scarred face.

The truth was, at heart, Lili was both Slytherin and Gryffindor which meant an unfortunate combination of the ability to scheme and the bravery to follow through on said scheme. Shoulders rolled back, she set the yearbook onto his desk, opened it to a very specific page, and then pushed it across to him.

"You were friends with James Potter," it wasn't a question.

The professor's eyes darted down to the glossy page where a young Remus Lupin and a young James Potter were arm—in—arm, grinning from their spot studying in the library. It was a sweet picture, really, one that should be framed and seen, not ignored and lost in the dusty pages of an old yearbook.

"I've been trying to put it together." Lili frowned deeply, shaking her head in confused disbelief. "You were friends with Harry's father, since you were kids. You must know more about James Potter than almost anyone — good things, not the things my father talks about. And Harry should know those things."

"Yes," replied Lupin, very quietly.

"But what I can't figure out is why you haven't told him."

The man swallowed hard, his finger brushing the edges of the page. "It's very... complicated, Miss Snape."

Lili's eyes narrowed slightly.

Remus Lupin was hiding something, something more than just being friends with Harry's father. There was something much, much bigger going on here, but she had no idea what. She searched his face for answers, but suddenly his expression completely closed off and in his eyes there was a... not quite a shield, but rather a curtain — as impenetrable as steel.

Lili startled.

The girl was both shocked and impressed, and she wondered if this was part of the great mystery her father could be referring to:

Remus Lupin was an Occlumens.

And, uhm, what the f—ck?

Lili shook her head, refusing to let herself be distracted right now. "I just know this, Professor. If someone knew something good about my mother, I'd want them to tell me."

Then, after what felt like minutes and hours and days later, Lupin wondered, "And who is your mother, Lili?"

Her eyes darted up to his, and she found that even though the curtain was still shielding his thoughts, his face was not the frigid mask it was before. His expression was kindly. Gentle, even. Not at all threatening.

Lili gave a small, sad smile. "I seriously doubt you know anything good about her, Professor Lupin, hardly anyone does."

"Try me."

Her father would hate this. He wouldn't let her do this. He wouldn't want her to tell this man anything. And yet... she was so desperate — so very desperate — to know something good about her family that she said:

"Bellatrix Lestrange."

And instantly she knew she'd be disappointed when Lupin abruptly looked away, shaking his head with an expression of true disgust.

"I see," was all he managed to strangle out after a while.

"Yes," she agreed even more strangled, a few moments later. Wiping hard at her strangely stinging eyes, she got up and cleared her throat, "Well, thank you for taking the time to speak to me, Professor. I'll just leave the yearbook here, shall I?"

There were still so many mysteries about the man called Remus Lupin, but right now, Lili didn't care. She just needed to stop thinking about Bellatrix Lestrange and her whole rotten family for one bloody moment.

"Lili?"

Heart leaping with hope, the girl turned back and found Lupin staring at her, thoughtfully, lips pressed together sadly.

"We'll be learning about Hinkypunks next lesson, if you'd like to read ahead."

Disappointed, she nodded, "Sure, Professor."

Then, just as her hand was on the door handle: "And—," she stopped and glanced back one last time, "—I'll consider what you said. For Harry."

Slowly, Lili smiled — true and genuine. Always, always, she smiled for Harry.

ϟ

Neville was looking at her.

No, not just Neville, everyone was looking at her.

Not noticing 'til too late, Lili paused halfway into the Great Hall and felt Harry bump into her shoulder in surprise, looking as startled as she was herself. All were staring: Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, even Slytherins. Lili's eyes darted to the Gryffindor table where Hermione was fervently waving them over amidst the whispering horde.

The pair exchanged a glance and hurried over.

"What's going on?" Harry asked immediately once they reached her.

Not answering, Hermione quickly snagged a hand into Lili's long sleeve and yanked her down a little too hard onto the bench. Harry caught Lili when she inevitably tripped, and then much more gracefully eased onto the bench at her side.

"Mione, what is it?"

"Oh, Lili, I'm sorry," her best friend cried almost desperately, "I can't believe they published it, they shouldn't have done—,"

"What?" Lili demanded quietly, ducking her head so no one could see her confusion, "What shouldn't they have done? Who shouldn't have done what?"

Across the table, Ron frowned deeply and reluctantly handed over this morning's newspaper. Lili forced herself to take it, drawing it close to herself to avoid looking at anyone else. Harry leant close over her shoulder for a better look. In massive black text, they read:

SECRETS REVEALED: LESTRANGE ESCAPED AZKABAN

Oh Merlin.

'Months into the infamous manhunt, a horrible secret has been revealed! Today, all will come to know and fear that when renowned mass murderer Sirius Black escaped Azkaban — he was not alone but instead is on the run with Bellatrix Lestrange, both fanatical followers of He Who Must Not Be Named and cousins on their father's side. Many know of Bellatrix Lestrange's crimes in the Wizarding War that led to her incarceration, including the capture and brutal torture of the Aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom (see pg. 4 for more details).'

Lili was going to be sick, right here on the Gryffindor table.

'However, few know that Lestrange is also a mother, to a Third Year student at our very own Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, by the name of Lilium Snape. The torrid affair between this confirmed Death Eater and the Hogwarts professor and Potions Master, Severus Snape, is a shock to us all.

'Has the rhetoric of You Know Who irrevocably infiltrated the hallowed halls of our once Light magic school? And if so, is there danger on the horizon — for all who encounter the daughter of these Death Eaters? Rita Skeeter investigates..."

Lili hadn't realised her hands were shaking until the words began to tremble, blurring from the sudden mortified tears stinging in her eyes. Her cheeks had flamed a splotchy red, and when she lifted her gaze from The Prophet, she saw that no one had stopped staring. In fact, it had only gotten worse. They were whispering now, some even pointing, looking both horrified and disgusted.

Seamus, Dean, Lavender, Fred and George, Ginny, and then Neville, oh Neville.

Her gaze caught with his, and with this glance, they both knew the truth.

Bellatrix Lestrange is my mother, and she stole away yours.

Neville suddenly stood and hurried towards the exit, and Lili could do nothing but drop the newspaper and numbly follow — avoiding Draco's piercing gaze on her way out. Now away from prying eyes, he was waiting for her in the corridor right outside the Great Hall, and she felt her heartbeat like a drumbeat inside her chest when she cautiously approached.

"Neville?"

Her voice echoed for a moment, everything else fading away, the words becoming the only sound in all of Hogwarts.

The boy kept his face turned down, hands buried in his pockets when he murmured, "She used the Cruciatus Curse on my parents. She tortured them for information... but they never gave in."

Lili, who had suffered an attack from Death Eaters, knew how near impossible that must've been and how impossibly brave his parents were. She didn't know much about Neville's homelife, only that he lived with his grandmum, but what became of his parents after her mother... well, it was a mystery, too.

"I'm quite proud to be their son," Neville went on firmly, raising his head to look her straight in the eye, "But I don't expect you feel the same way about your mum."

It could've been an insult if it had come from anyone else, but Lili knew Neville enough to know that wasn't. Not at all. If anything, it was a mercy.

"No." She whispered numbly, "I... I'm not proud."

He nodded, gave a weak smile, and then turned to walk away.

"Neville?" She called again, hands fidgeting, heart in her throat. When he stopped and looked back, she said, "I'm sorry."

Neville's face showed open heartbeat and his smile grew in strength when he took her hand and squeezed it tight. Then, he said something that ripped her heart open and healed it just as fast:

"You're not your mother, Lili. Of all people, I know that."

With that, Neville walked away, but Lili could only stand and stare, wishing she had his confidence in herself.

Just then: "Hey Snape!"

Standing numbly halfway down the corridor, Lili nearly jumped out of her skin at the call.

The girl whirled round with twelve and three—quarter inches of yew wood aimed for the center of her attacker's forehead, only to realise that it was the Fifth Year Hufflepuff, the seeker from the match, jogging towards her. Cedric Diggory, his name was, if she remembered correctly. Feeling stupid at the overreaction, Lili dropped her wand and did her best to hide it behind her back. Blushing, she stood up tall and raised her chin in defiance of something that hadn't even been spoken.

"Oh." Cedric Diggory slowed to a stop a few feet away, kind eyes were filled with such genuine regret that it made Lili uneasy. "Sorry I scared you, I didn't mean to."

Scared. She wanted to yell at him, staunchly inform him that she wasn't scared and he could put that thought right out of his head. But his eyes were so earnest that she couldn't find the anger within her, not now. Still, anyone who was so open and easy to read felt dangerous.

"It's fine..." Lili started slowly, more a little confused, wondering what the hell the Fifth Year Hufflepuff could possibly want — especially after the news this morning. "Can I help you, or something?"

It came out rude. She hoped he didn't think she was rude.

Fortunately, Diggory didn't seem to, offering her an apologetic look when he explained, "I haven't been able to find Potter around, but I see you with him all the time so I hoped you could tell him, well, that I'm sorry about the match? If I'd seen what happened, or if I'd realised, I wouldn't have—,"

"Oh... Yes." Lili cut him off, nodding once in understanding. "The twins — that is, Fred and George Weasley, they mentioned you'd asked for a rematch. But you know Quidditch, the rules are inane and ridiculous and utterly unchanging."

"Well, the rules don't exactly cover Dementors, do they?" Diggory cast her a commiserating glance, a smile pulling at his nice mouth (whoa, where had that thought come from?). "It's not fair."

So very exhausted with the day, Lili struggled to resist the urge to snort. Trust a Hufflepuff to be worried about 'fair'.

"Well, Quidditch is not always fair, either."

"A good counter point," he dipped his head before squinting at the shorter girl, "You probably think trying to get a rematch is pretty stupid, huh? Being part—Slytherin and all."

"I'm a Gryffindor," she almost snapped, tired of defending herself, now terrified of everyone thinking she was like her mother — everyone but Neville.

Again, Diggory didn't seem to notice her tone. Kindly, he decided, "But you aren't all Gryffindor. No one is all any one House, right?"

After a moment, Lili decided she could concede to this without betraying anyone. Posture rigid and chin raised high, she replied cautiously, "Well. The Slytherin part of me thinks you ought to just take the win and run with it. Still, I can... admire... your attempt to be fair to Harry."

"Thanks," the Hufflepuff boy gave her another easy smile, "You'll tell him what I said, won't you?"

"Sure, Diggory, of course. He'll appreciate it."

"Call me Cedric."

She blinked, "Right."

"Right..." He blinked a few times, too. "So, I'll call you Lili?"

"Lilium," she corrected instinctively before her cheeks flushed pink. "That is, only people who know me call me 'Lili'."

"I know you," he challenged with a smile, like they were playing a game.

"Not well enough to call me 'Lili', at any rate," she countered with narrowed eyes, trying to figure out the game's strange rules.

Diggory — that is, Cedric — gave her a boyish grin and shrugged a shoulder, "Well, maybe that'll change one day. See you round, Lilium — not 'Lili'."

"Yea. See you."

Lili watched Cedric Diggory go with a confused look on her face.

What — the — hell?

ϟ

Severus' Floo flared.

Without prelude. Without warning. The wizard jerked up from where he had been sitting and immediately raised his ebony wand at the fireplace, just in time to aim straight at the forehead of none other than his daughter's aunt. Narcissa Malfoy. Instantly, Severus lowered his wand but his body remained tense and ready. He genuinely had no idea what was coming next, and f—ck's sake, how he hated that.

The Malfoy woman stood before him, looking rather more disheveled than was expected, her usually impeccable hair now slightly frizzled and her usually immaculate robes rather hastily put together. She stared at him long and hard, her eyes more black than blue, each breath leaving her swiftly though silently.

Very carefully, Severus decided to speak first.

"Narcissa."

"Severus."

This was as gracious as their introductions could be, given the current circumstances.

"This is quite..." Severus forced a tight smile, "Unexpected."

"Is it?" Narcissa replied far too blandly for his tastes.

In any case, he did not dignify that with a response, instead he merely waved a hand towards the drink cart situated by the opposite wall. "Could I offer you some refreshment?"

Narcissa barely acknowledged this, too distracted with the newspaper he had left lying out on the sofa. The headline glared up at them in large bold print: SECRETS REVEALED: LESTRANGE ESCAPED AZKABAN. It seemed impossible that she could be here — in his personal chambers — at Hogwarts — for any other reason than this.

"For so long," Narcissa finally spoke, gripping her pale hands in front of herself, "I followed your lead and did not acknowledge that Lilium was my own niece. Although I was there the day she was born, I respected your wishes and did not question why you would possibly wish to keep secret the little family Lilium did possess. I knew you had your... reasons."

Severus wondered perhaps if he was suffocating because he most certainly couldn't breathe, not when his entire body was currently focused on Occluding himself from the very reasons that Narcissa was referring to.

"But now the truth is out."

Severus blinked slowly at her.

The witch tilted her head, birdlike almost. "You knew it would, Severus, surely. It's as Lucius always says, you're far too clever for your own good. You knew one day all would be revealed the moment you had relations with my sister."

Severus Snape was going to sick up on Narcissa Malfoy's expensive shoes.

"Why at all you must have done so, I have ever asked—,"

"As it is not at all your business," Severus bit back, tone positively dripping with acid.

"Though I suspect Lucius knows."

"Enough."

"And now Lilium knows the truth," the Malfoy woman continued, unfettered but obeying just the same. "As does my Draco."

"So they do," Severus agreed lowly, turning his back to her so that he could finally try to catch a breath and distract himself by getting a drink. "I do not see how this was such a matter of great importance you felt the need to come all the way here and grace me with your presence, Narcissa, truly. You already see the girl during the summers, as we agreed all those years ago. You have had a fair influence on her. Even if the truth is out, nothing substantial will change between you."

"It will change." Narcissa countered firmly. "You know that it must because... because my sister is free, Severus."

Severus squeezed his eyes shut for only a brief moment before turning around and levelling his gaze with hers, silent and cold and buried so very deep behind his Occlumency shields.

"I am not naive to who my sister truly is, and what she is capable of nor what such exposure to the Dementors of Azkaban may have reduced her already... unbalanced... mind to."

Severus did not — could not — speak.

"My sister is out and she is mad and she will be coming for Lilium." Narcissa slowly crossed the sitting room to stand within a foot of him, her quiet voice fierce than any shout. "And I've come here today to tell you that I will do whatever it takes to protect my niece, Severus. Whatever it takes."

annie speaks

ϟ

wowowowow SO MUCH happened this chapter, and i'm dying to hear your thoughts. do you guys have any theories as to why are there two women who look like bellatrix? what could THAT possibly mean? not to mention, does snape sort of like harry now??? harry is also confused. meanwhile, lili is trying to put a mystery together but keeps missing the most obivious thing that snape was trying to point her to, lol. side note: werewolves are impervious to legilimens — therefore a natural occlumens. oops. come on, lili! people also found out about bellatrix escaping azkaban and that she's lili's mum. yikes.

WE ALSO HAD SO MANY MINI GUEST STARS TODAY! cedric diggory and narcissa malfoy! some of y'all were asking about cho last chapter, and what i can say is this: goblet of fire is not a love triangle. it is a love square. good luck figuring THAT out.

two sneak peeks for today. one for next chapter and one for my upcoming draco malfoy story!!

CHAPTER TWENTY—EIGHT :

And yet, at the top of the pile, was a childish sketch — drawn by a familiar hand. It was a rough caricature of what must've been Snape and five year old Lili, hand—in—hand, standing in the Potions classroom with big black dots for eyes and strange pink curves for mouths. It was ugly and yellowed and Lili didn't even remember drawing it. And yet, all this time, Snape had kept it.

Lili held the sketch to her chest for a moment, blinking quick and hard.

D—mn dust.

Then, rubbing at her nose, Lili set it aside and peeked back in. There wasn't really anything else exciting, not like that box back at Spinner's End. A lot of important papers and whatnot, deeds and patents and whatnot, but then something... strange... caught her attention. In her father's tight and elegant scrawl:

E. Snape
14 Spital Green, Berwick—Upon—Tweed,
Northumberland, North East England

Two words: holy — shite.

PLAYING FOR KEEPS SNEAK PEEK :

"Where do you think you're going?!" Draco angrily tossed over his shoulder, already moving swiftly down the corridor.

"With you!" Rose struggled to keep up, trying and failing to catch her breath.

"Absolutely not." He seethed, digging his hands into his robe pockets, still spitting the words like curses behind him, "Potter, you can't be anywhere near me — that should be obvious. You must go back inside that office before you get either one us into any more trouble."

"I can't go back." Rose stopped chasing him, simply standing still and telling him, "I just told Dumbledore to shut up."

Draco immediately skidded to a halt, turning very slowly so he could raise his eyebrows at her in utter bewilderment. He had a red handprint raised on the side of his face. He didn't seem to feel it anymore when he questioned, "You told our Headmaster — Albus bloody Dumbledore — to shut up?"

"I did." A beat, and then after breaking into a shy grin, Rose held up her little finger, "I pinky—swear."

Draco's lips twitched up, but his tone was very flat when he informed her, "I have no idea what a 'pinky—swear' is."

Her lips twitched too and she shrugged while saying, "I guess you're just gonna have to take my word for it, then."

There was a long pause before Draco smirked just a little.

"You better come on, then."

SO EXCITED FOR YOUR COMMENTS!!

now, here's my meme for this sunday:

poor lili