ACT TWO, chapter thirty—two :
just turned fourteen
and i think this year
i'm gonna be mean

ϟ

The Hogwarts Express chugged along through Scotland. 

The last days of summer had been at first very eventful, and then very un—eventful.

With Harry unconscious, Lili had been left to simply cradle his head until someone found them amidst the ash and darkness. Then, the Dark Mark had been cast by a faceless figure in the night. Even now, she could hear that sickening shout, 'Morsmordre!' That was stressful enough without being also almost cursed by Ministry wizards.

Bloody Ministry of Magic.

Sev had come to collect them from the campground before the last of the fires had even gone out. But he hadn't been there, when it happened. That mattered to Lili, more than she could say. Sev had talked very, very seriously with Mister Weasley for a few moments before sternly directing Harry and Lili to hold onto him and Apparating them back to safe, smelly Cokeworth.

Lili had Apparated before, but it still made her nearly vomit every time.

In any case, Sev had kept them safely sheltered in Spinner's End for the last few days of summer, no one spoke of what had occurred at the Cup, and then her father personally delivered them to the train station — while Polyjuiced, of course. Now, the Golden Quartet were back to their usual routine.

Merlin, but she hoped for a calm year at Hogwarts.

Harry and Ron were chatting about their hopes for the Gryffindor Quidditch team this year Hermione's nose was buried in a newspaper with the massive headline written at the top: TERROR AT THE WORLD CUP. Lili tried to ignore the moving image of the Dark Mark and instead sketched the four of them sitting together in the cabin. It looked rather good actually...

"Anything from the trolley, dears?"

Lili's head popped up when the sweet trolley stopped by their cabin, the friendly—faced old woman smiling in on them. A liquorice wand and some iced pumpkin juice sounded brill. She dug a hand into the pocket of her leather jacket, tapping her fingers against the few Sickles Sev had given her for the train ride. He'd been fussy about it all, wanting to make sure she could afford what she wanted. Really, he was so odd about money sometimes.

Lili stood in their makeshift line, waiting her turn behind Ron and Harry.

"Packet of drewbals and a liquorice wand." Ron requested before noticing he'd not enough Sickles. Blushing bright red, he mumbled, "On second thought, j—just the drewbals."

"It's all right I'll get it," Harry tried to offer.

Lili smiled softly at his attempt at being kind, even if she knew someone like Ron, someone who didn't usually have access to money, would never accept it.

"Just the drewbals," the Weasley boy reiterated, sadly taking the sweet back into their cabin, "Thanks."

Just then, a Fourth Year Ravenclaw by the name of Cho Chang walked up to the trolley with her friends and cut in line. With a smile, she ordered, "Two pumpkin pasties, please."

And then there was this odd moment were Lili watched Harry and Chang look at each other and... smile.

Lili's eyes widened. She shifted uncomfortably on her feet behind them, suddenly awkward and out of place. Once Chang had said her thanks and stepped away (not before shooting Harry another smile), Harry drifted back into their cabin in a strange daze. And Lili... just stood there. Like a dunderhead. She didn't like the strange feeling building in her chest, something that made her chest feel tight and her stomach nauseous. It felt like something a bit like anger and a bit like longing.

The old lady turned to her next customer, "Anything sweet for you, dear?"

Snapping out of her stupor, Lili looked back at the trolley lady with big black eyes and ashen cheeks.

"Apparently not."

ϟ

The Welcoming Feast was different this year.

True, the Great Hall was decorated just grandly as usual with its thousands of floating candles and massive tables and starry night sky overhead. But many other things were different. Apparently, this school year was going to be quite unlike all the rest before or after it.

Lovely.

Lili caught her father's eyes at the Head Table, and there was something comforting in the fact that Sev looked just about as miserable as she was.

She smirked commiseratingly.

Headmaster Dumbledore dashed onto stage with his pale blue robes flowing, voice echoing across the Great Hall, "Now we're all settled in and sorted, I'd like to make an announcement: this castle will not only be your home this year but home to some very special guests as well. You see Hogwarts has been chosen—,"

Filch interrupted by doing a strange little jaunt up the aisle to whisper something in the Headmaster's ear before leaving in the same fashion. Lili bit back a giggle.

With a subtle sigh, Dumbledore turned back to the students and went on with his speech. It seemed that Hogwarts would be cancelling Quidditch this year to the great disappointment of Harry, Ron, and the Weasley twins. Lili was relieved Oliver Wood had graduated last year. If he'd been here, he would've been feeling homicidal. Instead of Quidditch, Hogwarts would be engaging in what was called the Triwizard Tournament. Gag. And they would be hosting two other schools to take part in it, too. Double gag.

"Lil!" Harry and Ron leant across to the table, fervently whispering, "What the hell is the Tri—something—or—other Tournament?"

Though Hermione had long ago read Hogwarts: A History, Lili tended to be the Hogwarts Expert as she actually grew up here.

With a fake put—upon sigh, she leant in and whispered, "The Triwizard Tournament was started round seven centuries ago as a way for the three largest European wizarding schools to engage in a series of magical contests while their respective student bodies experienced the benefits of cross—cultural social intercourse."

"Oh," Hermione nodded knowingly.

Harry and Ron simply frowned at her.

Lili sighed for real this time and said, "In other words: they got to spend an entire year getting to know people who spoke a funny language. But then, due to a distressingly high death toll, the Tournament was cancelled... until now, I suppose."

The boys paled slightly.

"Now let me be clear: if chosen, you stand alone!" The Headmaster went on seriously, but his eyes gleamed with excitement, "And trust me when I say these contests are not for the faint hearted, but more of that later. For now please join me in welcoming the lovely ladies of the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and their Headmistress Madam Maxime..."

When the great doors pushed open, a group of the prettiest girls Lili had ever seen elegantly danced up the aisle, sighing and twirling and releasing butterflies into the air.

Ah shite.

She didn't mind the Beauxbatons girls, 'course not; she just didn't like how the boys were reacting to them. Not at all. Harry and Ron literally got off their seats to cheer. B—stards. Lili and Hermione exchanged a disdainful glance. Surely it was all right to shoot just a little hex their way?

Dumbledore hopped back onto the dais to announce, "And now our friends from the north, please greet the proud sons of Durmstrang and the High Master Igor Karkaroff!"

Again, a horde of students burst through, boys this time, swarming past Filch who looked completely bewildered. The boys dressed in dark clothes and armed with long staffs marched down the aisle, twirling them round and stabbing them at the concrete to create sparks. Flipping to the end of the tables, one boy brought his wand to mouth and then blew fire. Straight into the professors' faces. It was a miracle Dumbledore's bloody beard didn't catch fire.

It was a rather good show.

Lili had to say; she was almost impressed.

"Blimey, it's him!" Ron fairly squeaked, pointing at one of the Durmstrang boys, "Viktor Krum!"

Indeed it was.

Krum wasn't that impressive looking, but Lili seriously thought Ron was about to have a heart attack.

The High Master and Dumbledore exchanged an embrace, and finally, Lili's favourite part of the Welcoming Feast got started: the food. Sev had been working nonstop at getting her appetite up over the summer, and he'd done well enough. As the meal really got going, Lili was fairly stuffing herself to her roots with roast and veg and bread rolls.

Curiously, she peeked up at the Head Table.

Sev did not like Karkaroff; that much was clear. Interesting. They were too far across the Hall, and with the noise of her fellow students, she'd no chance of hearing them. But she'd been sort of inventing a bit of a spell over the summer, an eavesdropping charm (Eavero, a reverse of Muffliato), and with a subtle flick of her yew wand, she could hear exactly what was being said — if a bit bubbled.

"Dear old Hogwarts," Igor Karkaroff was saying, mouth moving beneath this thick facial hair, "It's so..."

"Perfectly imperfect?" Dumbledore offered with a humorous smile.

Karkaroff smiled tightly before turning to Sev, his accent thick, "Severus. Long time, no see. I almost did not recognise you." Her father nodded just once, one sharp up and down, and the High Master went on, "You look so... tired. Sleeping well these days?"

Sev didn't respond, only offering him a brief and very dark glance before stiffly turning back to his meal.

Very interesting.

She'd barely cancelled the spell when she heard Ron heave a great sigh, "Brilliant, isn't he?"

Lili arched a brow and followed his gaze to find Krum sitting amongst the Slytherins.

"He's eating," Hermione stated dryly, barely resisting the urge to roll her eyes (this was impressive).

Harry cocked his head, "Why d'you suppose they've been put at the Slytherin table?"

"Birds of a feather, perhaps?" Lili bit her lip, one shoulder shrugging, "Durmstrang puts a lot of emphasis on the Dark Arts... Some in Slytherin do the same."

At some point, they'd brought up a massive looking golden casket and Lili already knew what was inside.

Dumbledore leapt to the stage front again once they'd more or less finished with their meal, and with his arms raised high, his voice burst across the Great Hall, "Your attention, please! I would like to say a few words. Eternal glory: that is what awaits the student who wins the Triwizard tournament. But to do this that student must survive three tasks. Three extremely dangerous tasks."

Together, the Weasley's twins sang, "Wicked."

Lili smirked fondly at them.

She wondered if this would be good for business, now officially named Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. She hoped so... She could use some more pocket change.

"For this reason, the Ministry has seen fit to impose a new rule," the Headmaster continued. "To explain all this we have the head of the Department of International Magic Cooperation, Mister Bartemius Crouch."

Said man came forward, looking familiar with his bowler hat and greying mustache. Her lips curled. She recognised the stern b—stard from the campground on the night of the World Cup, when he tried to Stupefy her and her friends into oblivion. Major b—stard. But before he could take the stage, thunder roared overhead and rain began to pour through the enchanted ceiling.

Lili ducked for cover as everyone screamed and shouted. Then, a strange man with a fake leg and mechanical eye suddenly lurched out of the doorway to throw a spell at the ceiling. In a burst of light, the sky cleared. The rain stopped. Peace restored.

"What the—?"

"Bloody hell," Ron realised, "It's Mad—Eye Moody."

Lili felt herself tense, breath catching in her chest.

Oh yes, she'd heard of him before. Alastor 'Mad—Eye' Moody was a name she'd heard many times in her childhood, when in certain circles... like the Malfoys, the Crabbes, the Goyles, the Macnairs. He was an Auror — a Dark wizard catcher, catching people like her father, like her mother, like... her. He was dangerous to people like them, having apparently filled half of Azkaban almost single—handedly, and he was also completely mental.

Still, an Auror. Lili's eyes narrowed with something gleeful and dangerous. Something secret, something dangerous, something worth fighting for. Putting arseholes like Nott, Avery, and Gibbon into Azkaban... yes, that would be a job she'd want.

Lili's eyes darted nervously to her father.

...And found he was looking at her, too.

Mad—Eye opened a flash and threw back a sip.

"What's that he's drinking, do you suppose?" Seamus wondered in fascination.

"I dunno, but I don't think it's Pumpkin Juice," Harry mused, and when Lili chuckled, they exchanged a smirk.

Finally, Mister Crouch got to say his piece, "After much deliberation, the Ministry has concluded that for their own safety no student under the age of seventeen shall be allowed to put forth their name for the Triwizard Tournament. This decision is final."

Immediately, Lili's fellow students exploded into shouts of dissent — the Weasley's twins in particular.

As Dumbledore called for silence, Hermione whispered in her ear, "Would you want to compete?"

Lili arched a dubious brow, "And have all those people starin' at me? No way in hell."

Her best friend giggled and looked back at the Headmaster who was raising his wand over the golden box so it melted into a massive goblet containing a bright blue flame.

"The Goblet of Fire. Anyone wishing to submit themselves for the Tournament merely write their name upon a piece of parchment and throw it in the flame before this hour on Thursday night. Do not do so lightly; if chosen, there's no turning back. As from this moment, the Triwizard Tournament has begun..."

There was great excitement and great disappointment in the air, but it was only Lili and Harry who exchanged a weary smile. They had no interest in that sort of thing right now, maybe ever again.

Honestly, being in danger was becoming rather exhausting.

ϟ

Lili was happily walking amongst her fellow members of the Golden Quartet.

The fourteen year old girl strode down the many corridors of the castle with her sketchbook under her arm, breathing in deep, trying to take this all in. She was happy to be back at Hogwarts, away from the events of the World Cup and the Dark Mark and all of that. She was back home.

"It's been over a week since I last got a letter," Harry was grousing, hands shoved deep into his jumper's pockets, "You guys don't reckon Sirius has been caught, do you?"

"Nah, it would've been in The Daily Prophet," Ron replied casually, trying to balance all the books in his arms. "The Ministry would want to show they'd caught someone, wouldn't they?"

"Yea, I s'pose..."

Hermione suddenly veered off from their group, and Lili arched a brow, "'Mione? Where are you going?"

"Oh, nowhere, I just want to get to the library."

"What?" Ron cried in disbelief. "Hermione — it's our first week back! We haven't even got any homework yet!"

Hermione shrugged, squeezed Lili in a hug, and then ran towards the stairs at top speed. The Snape girl smirked in fond amusement before shifting her sketchbook aside to examine her new course schedules for Fourth Year.

"Hmm." Lili announced to the boys as Harry peeked over her shoulder, "Looks like we've double Herbology on Mondays, double Potions on Tuesdays, and double Defense on Thursdays."

"Oh, Moody. How cool is he?" Ron sighed near dreamily, "Fred and George had him today, and they said he knows."

Lili and Harry exchanged a confused glance, "Knows... what?"

"Knows what it's like to be out there, seeing it, doing it," Ron gave them a look of great meaning. "He knows what it's like to really fight against the Dark Arts."

Lili shivered, unsure if she was more excited or terrified.

"Miss Snape." All three Gryffindors whipped round to see Professor McGonagall staring at them quite sternly, "Come with me."

Harry touched a hand to her lower back, and when she glanced over, he raised his brows, "All right?"

"Yea, all right. See you guys later."

Ron waved cheerily, and Lili hurried to catch up with her Head of House. That was the thing about Minerva McGonagall; she had a fierce enough stride to compete with Severus Snape's. The old Scot led her into her office (decorated heavily in tartan), gestured her to an overly stuffed chair, and after sitting behind her large desk, pushed a little ceramic bowl towards the girl.

"Have a biscuit, Miss Snape."

Lili snatched onto the sugar biscuit and took a big bite, smirking as she chewed, "It's just us here, Professor. Are you truly going to keep calling me 'Miss Snape'?"

The sternness lingered for only a moment longer before McGonagall softened with mock defeat, "Oh, very well, Lilium. Thank you for meeting with me, just the same. Now." She grew serious again. "I wanted to check in with you following the events of the Quidditch World Cup."

Lili blinked in surprise, "Just me, Professor?"

McGonagall levelled her with a knowing stare. "I am not unaware that any matters pertaining to those we call 'Death Eaters' affect you more greatly than that of your friends."

Lili's chest shuddered with a deep exhale, "Did my father ask you to talk to me?"

"No. But I admit we did..." The professor intertwined her wrinkled fingers atop her desk, "Discuss you."

"Of course you did," she shot the woman a long—suffering look, "You've been discussing me since I was a year old."

McGonagall's lips twitched into a knowing little smirk, "As that may be, Lilium, I expressed my concerns of how these new developments might have affected you. He shared them. So, my question stands: how are you, Lilium?"

Lili bit her lip, cheeks flushing pink despite herself. D—mn. She could never hide her emotions round Minerva McGonagall. Still, she tried.

"I'm all right, Professor."

The woman arched a brow, "Are you sure, Lilium?"

"I am. I swear."

All she got was a disbelieving, "Hm" and then she was reluctantly dismissed.

As it was close to dinner, Lili was on her way to the Great Hall when she passed a pale blonde girl wandering round the Entrance Hall, clearly searching for something, and judging by her lack of trainers, Lili knew exactly what it was. She winced in sympathy. The castle was near frigid this time of year, and her toes surely had to be freezing. It was then that she noticed a huddle of girls from Ravenclaw standing under the arch, giggling and whispering behind their hands, sending cruelly amused glances at the other girl.

Something furious and righteous ignited in the center of Lili's chest, and she found herself snapping, "Oi, what the f—ck's going on here, then?"

A groan went round the circle of girls. "Oh, mind your own business, Snape."

"I'll mind whoever's business I bloody well want to, thank you very much. Now, tell — me."

Lili sounded shockingly like her father, and even more shockingly, she didn't mind much at all. The girls glanced at each other, bit red—cheeked, but none of them spoke.

"No? Nothing to say? Fine then." Lili mocked sickly sweetly, narrowed eyes darting, "Hey!"

The blonde girl cocked her head with interest, looking not the least bit bothered — barefoot or not. Lili tried to recall her name, but she couldn't. She didn't recognise her from her Year, but she didn't look much younger than Lili herself. A Third Year, then? It didn't matter now.

Lili asked, "What's happened to your shoes?"

"Oh, they've gone missing," answered the girl vaguely.

"Have they, really?"

"On an adventure, I hope."

She saw them. All those pretty girls. Grinning and giggling. Bathed in cold sunshine. Everyone laughing but Lili.

"I wonder why that is," she spat, not truly expecting an answer.

The blonde girl gave her one, anyway.

"Oh, I lose my possessions all the time. People take them and hide them," she serenely replied before she leant close as if confessing a secret, "I think they think I'm a bit odd, you know."

Lili understood the feeling. She, herself, was a bit odd.

The Snape girl turned her darkest scowl onto the Ravenclaws, arching a brow in obvious demand. No one dared to move. Well, then. It seemed she would have to take matters into her own hands. Thank Merlin Lili had been studying ahead this summer. Her eyes narrowed. With a snap of her wrist, her yew wand slipped into her palm and with a flick, she hissed:

"Accio stolen shoes!"

The Ravenclaws gasped and jolted in fear. Brill. One of the girls' bags wiggled, struggled, and then the bag flap flew up so a pair of white and pink patterned trainers flew to meet her other hand. A happy gasp met Lili's ear, and she turned to find the shorter blonde girl gazing at the shoes in dazed wonder.

"They've come back!" The girl chimed airily, "Because you've found them, Lilium Snape!"

"So I have..." She raised a brow, "Wait, how do you know my name?"

"Oh... well... the Nargles told me."

Lili blinked. The Ravenclaws snorted and laughed.

She whipped round to glare, "Shut — up."

The girls promptly did. She supposed it paid to have people afraid of her.

Then, "What are Nargles?"

"They're rather mischievous, you know, you'd quite like them. Most people can't hear them. But you could hear them too, if you let yourself."

Lili had no idea how to respond to that. So... she didn't.

Once she handed the trainers over, the younger girl quickly dropped to the cold stone and started tying up her colourful laces. Lili felt something Dark slither from her stomach to her heart and up her throat. She felt the blood leave her face. Her palms grew sweaty and she tried to swallow. She stood there, trying to remain straight—faced, but her lips were trembling with a cruel smirk. She clamped her mouth shut and clenched her teeth. Her black head slowly cocked at the Ravenclaw girls.

"I wonder if any of you recall that I can conjure Fiendfrye?"

The girls adorned with blue crests exchanged nervous glances.

"Some say only a Dark witch can conjure such a violent thing..." Lili twirled her wand, bone white in her hand, speaking with obvious threat, "Unless you want to end up charred to crisp, I'd suggest you leave this girl and her things alone from now on. Am I understood?"

They fidgeted and glanced at one another, swallowing hard and whispering.

Voice so much harsher, Lili repeated, "Am I... understood?"

"Y—Yes..."

Then the bullying girls scurried away without a glance back. Now fully smirking, Lili nodded her head sternly and whipped round with a happy gleam in her eyes, but, unfortunately... the blonde girl was gone.

Odd, indeed.

ϟ

A few days later, Lili was resisting the urge to run.

Instead of going to dinner, the Snape girl was going to the dungeons with her DADA books pressed to her chest.

They had just had their first Defense class with their new professor, Mad—Eye Moody, and Lili could say with confidence that the man was indeed mad. Like... seriously, totally, completely mad. He muttered and roared and threw chalk at his students. The scars made his face look as if it had been smashed and stuck back together again. And besides that, he was a bit... intense. Lili felt a bit in danger in his classes, and it seemed to be a common feeling throughout the student body.

More than that...

Something was odd between Snape and Moody.

True, Snape had never liked any of their Defense professors, but her father seemed oddly... wary (?) of sharing animosity, dislike, or even the barest conversation with the man. The only times Lili ever saw them together was at mealtimes or when they happened to pass in the corridors, and every time, she noticed that Snape was avoiding Moody's eye, both natural and magical.

"I reckon Snape's a bit scared of him, you know," Harry had thoughtfully said this morning.

"Because Professor Moody was an Auror?" Hermione wondered, looking up from her book on house elf rights.

"It makes sense..." Lili bit her lip, fiddling with her plaits as her voice lowered, "Historically, Death Eaters and Aurors didn't exactly get along—,"

"Yea, something about dirty rotten blood purists, mostly Slytherins, not being worth the saliva spat on them," Ron grumbled with a disgusted scowl.

"Thank you, Ronald," Lili shot him a sharp look before murmuring, "And if Moody was one to push for Azkaban, it's no wonder he's got Snape a bit uneasy."

Harry's green eyes went wide, "Snape almost went to Azkaban?"

Lili didn't answer, but she didn't have to.

"Imagine if Moody turned Snape into a horned toad," Ron got a dreamy look in his eyes as he fantasised, "And bounced him all round his dungeon..."

"Shut up, Ron," Lili and Harry had said together.

Anyway. Lili didn't know if Snape was indeed scared of the new professor, and she certainly wasn't going to ask for confirmation, but she couldn't help but feel a bit scared of him too. Which was so perfect because suddenly...

Someone blocked her path.

Alastor 'Mad—Eye' Moody.

Lili blinked, shocked that the professor she left in class had somehow managed to not only catch up with her but also end up in front of her. She forced herself to pretend this did not frighten the bloody shite out of her.

Moody's magic eye rotated 'til it locked in on her face. "I might've known you'd be the one sneaking round. Lilium Snape, aged 14, Gryffindor House, yew wood wand with a dragon heartstring core, 12 ¾", swishy."

Blinking, she recoiled and swallowed hard, "How did you know all of—?"

"Oh, I know quite a bit more than that, Miss Snape." Moody sounded almost threatening when he lumbered slightly closer. "You are top of your class, correct?"

"In Potions, yes." She shifted her weight uncomfortably, shuffling a step or two back from the man. "Second to my friend, Hermione Granger, in everything else, though."

Moody's one eyebrow lifted marginally, "A Muggle—Born."

"Yes." Lili's eyes hardened a bit, "A Muggle—Born."

"Hm. And are you naturally inquisitive?"

Her eyes darted in confusion, "Yes..."

"Predisposed to violence?"

Now, Lili was getting very confused, "What—?"

Moody forged ahead anyway, "Socially inept?"

"I beg your—?"

"And a Half—Blood."

Lili's eyes narrowed somewhat.

Since when did blood statuses matter to Aurors?

The professor's false eye whirred strangely, raking over her face while his tongue did a strange snake—like flick out of his mouth. He growled, "Believe me, Lilium Snape, I am not about to come to a school full of strangers without doing some background. Constant vigilance!"

The Defense professor jabbed his staff into the floor, cracking the cement right in front of her. Despite herself, Lili jumped. Then she straightened herself up, squared her jaw, and stared right back into his cold, shark—like eye. She studied his scars a bit more closely, fingers acting against her will to trail her own facial scars.

"Ah. The devil likes disguises. Never forget that..."

The girl suddenly recalled her father's caution round the man, as if the Auror might be a Legilimens, and so she kept her eyes low to easier hide her thoughts behind layers and layers of Occlumency. Somehow, she felt the Auror smirk even with her gaze down.

Finally, Moody stepped aside. "On your way, then."

Lili made a conscious decision not to run past the madman, but as soon as she was round the corner, she broke into a dead sprint. She was panting by the time she shoved through Sev's office door, exhausted and jittery and completely freaked out.

Her father blinked at her from across his desk, nonplussed. "Would you care to explain to me why you're sweating upon my clean floor, Lilium?"

"I'm not sweating, I'm glistening," Lili panted out, holding a stitch in her side. "It's different."

"Indeed?" Sev arched a dark mocking brow, "Says who?"

"Says Hermione," she sang breathily, just to rile him, "And she knows everything."

"So she believes," her father hummed lightly, going back to his grading. Still, the reasoning for her running and 'glistening' had yet to be resolved so he asked, "And why are you 'glistening' upon my clean floor, then?"

"I had Defense this afternoon."

She was losing his interest, she could tell. "And?"

"And I don't like Mad—Eye. He's... quite awful, actually."

Sev raised his head, gaze suddenly dark and intense, "He's not done anything to you, has he?"

"No. Not as such. But he did show us the Unforgivables."

"Yes. Well, he is the professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"No, but, Sev, he showed us." Lili swept closer to his desk, curling her fingers round the edge. "As in, he took a creature — a living creature, a whip spider — and he cast all three Unforgivables on it. You should've seen what it did to the class, Sev. Neville was near tears when he saw the Cruciatus, and Harry... After the Killing Curse, he asked me if I thought it hurt. If his parents had been in pain."

"And then the Imperius," her father told her quietly.

"Yes." Lili stiffened. "The Imperius."

There it was then; one of the three Unforgivables fit each of them. Crucio for Neville, Imperio for Lili, and Avada Kedavra for Harry.

"My, my. What an excellent idea, that is: demonstrations of the Unforgivable Curses in front of school children. And people say I'm a sadist."

Lili smirked slightly, but it faded rather quick.

Her father sighed slightly, "I'll handle it."

She suddenly felt bad, she knew he didn't like the Auror, that he wanted to stay away from him. She tried, "Sev—,"

"I said, I'll handle it."

Lili, too, sighed and slumped slightly against his desk, her knees suddenly feeling like jelly and her arms too weak to hold all of these stupid textbooks. Merlin, but she was exhausted. She felt like she could take a nap for a thousand years. Maybe longer.

Sev's expression was complicated as he stared up at her, his voice hesitant and careful, "Would you... like to stay?"

She would like to stay. Very much.

So, Lili made herself at home in his office. She dropped into her favourite chair, tugged off her clunky boots, and tucked her feet beneath herself. She worked on her Charms and Herbology homework, getting distracted with sketching flowers in the margins. She didn't think Professor Sprout would mind so much. Eating dinner at his desk, she finished reading Stitch's Extreme Incantations and started in on Borage's The Master Brewer. Maybe later she'd read Pride and Prejudice like Hermione kept nagging her to.

Though Lili was still a bit hesitant about romances...

As the hours stretched on, the girl curled up tighter in the chair and watched the hearth with drooping eyelids. The crackle of the fire and the familiar scratching of her father's quill lulled her into a hazy world somewhere between sleep and consciousness. 

She was still sort of awake when her father finally stood, walked round, and carefully gathered her in his arms. Peeking through her eyelashes, she saw him glancing down at her with a quirk to his mouth. A smile, it was definitely a smile. She closed her eyes tighter and let herself melt into him, tucking her cheek against the material of his robes.

From sound rather than sight, she knew they had left his office, walked through their chambers, and entered her bedroom. He gently placed Lili on her bed after tugging down the quilt and sheets to set her inside. She pretended to stay asleep as he carefully removed her jumper, undid her braid, and pulled blankets over her. Sev hesitated as he leant over her. Lili held her breath. Then, he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

As he made to leave, Lili stirred and lifted her sleepy head, "Sev?"

Her father turned round with a long—suffering expression, though he was smirking slightly. "Now you wake up."

"What happened between you and Mad—Eye?"

With a great sigh, Sev leant against the doorway and informed her quite stiffly, "Nothing that concerns you."

"It does concern me." Lili insisted, pushing herself up onto her elbows. "You're my father and he's my professor, and now you need to tell me what I've been caught in the middle of."

"Oh, do I?" A pause, and then, "There are some things you are better not understanding yet."

Lili didn't like that answer so she cocked her head and pressed, "Did you cut out his eye?"

Her father looked surprised.

"Did you use it for potions ingredients?"

"I beg your—?"

"Three crushed flobberworms, one bat spleen — thinly sliced, stir until yellow, add one eye of a completely mad Auror named Alastor Moody—,"

Sev finally groaned in complete exasperation, "Enough. Merlin, but you can be annoying."

"Thank you."

"Not a compliment."

"I'm aware."

Sev sighed overly hard, but he gave her an actual answer, "I did not take his eye. That pleasure belonged solely to a Death Eater by the name of Evan Rosier before he was killed by Moody in short order. I also did not do anything in particular to Alastor Moody, other than become a Death Eater when I was seventeen. He remains skeptical of my position as a spy for the Headmaster. He believes I am still loyal to the Dark Lord."

Lili swallowed hard against the rock forming in her throat. "Professor Dumbledore brought him here... Do you think we can trust him?"

"I don't trust anyone. Go to sleep, Lilium."

Sev stood looking at her for a moment more, something approaching affection on his face, and then he Nox'd her lamp and closed her bedroom door behind him.

Lili sighed, rolled over, and went to sleep.

ϟ

The Triwizard Cup sparkled brilliantly in the Great Hall.

It'd been raining nonstop for nearly a week, but that hadn't diminished the mood of any of the castle's residents. People had been buzzing with excitement for days now. Loads of upper years had been putting their names into the Goblet of Fire as younger kids watched on with jealous longing.

Not many tried to trick the drawn Age Line, no, that specific honour was reserved for Lili's favourite terror twins. Hermione called their plan 'pathetically dim—witted', and Lili rather agreed. If they'd only asked her, she'd have told them it was a stupid idea. Served them right, really. It wouldn't have happened if they had asked for her expert potioneer opinion. They probably hadn't asked because they knew what she'd say. Dunderheads.

Still, it was rather entertaining to watch them turn into old men complete with white hair and long beards.

Of course Karkaroff's man, Viktor Krum, put his name in. Fun fact: the Bulgarian Seeker seemed to have taken a shine to Hermione, and Lili couldn't stop giving her teasing glances whenever they spotted him in the corridors. Lili's shins were rather sore after all the subtle kicks her best friend had been giving her.

Anyway.

Lili didn't doubt Beauxbatons had chosen their best, brightest, and prettiest to put into the Cup. A number of Hogwarts students tried their hand at tossing their names into the flames as well, and being seventeen, Cedric Diggory did so, too. For days leading up to the selection — in class and out of it, everyone had been discussing who had entered and who would be chosen.

Over lunch on a Wednesday, Dean offered his insider information, "There's a rumor going round that Warrington got up early and put his name in." Following a brief silence, he promptly explained to the girls who stared rather blankly, "That big bloke from Slytherin who looks like a sloth."

"Ah," Lili nodded in recognition, focusing back on her steak and kidney pie.

Hermione couldn't look more uninterested, turning the page of her book on Goblin Rebellions.

Harry, who'd played Quidditch against said sloth, shook his head in disgust while Ron belted in great offence, "No! Hogwarts can't have a Slytherin champion!"

Lili, known defender of (most) Slytherins, slammed down her fork and demanded, "And why not, Ronald?"

Ron winced and muttered, "Sorry, Lili..."

The girl sighed and shook her head, picking up her fork once more.

"Better that ejit than Pretty—Boy Diggory," Seamus grumbled quite rudely. "Wouldn't have thought he'd have wanted t' risk his good looks."

Hermione lightly bumped her, giving a knowing smirk when Lili turned bright pink and swiftly looked away. Lili might've missed the way Harry stabbed at his pie a bit harder for the rest of the meal, but Hermione definitely didn't...

Finally, the day for the Champion Selection had arrived.

The Great Hall was impossibly cluttered with students from the three different schools, and once they'd all taken their seats, the show got started.

"And now the moment, you've all been waiting for, the Champion's Selection!"

It was all very dramatic.

They ripped a sheet off the massive Goblet of Fire, and everyone cheered wildly. With an air of dignified grace, Dumbledore approached the blue flames atop the Cup, and at once it glowed red so a small piece of paper drifted out. One by one, their champions' names began coming out of the Goblet of Fire: Viktor Krum, Fleur Delacour, and finally... Cedric Diggory. That particular name got a very loud reaction from the Hogwarts' students.

Lili felt Harry watching her from the corner of her eye.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore whirled round with arms extended wide, voice booming through the hall, "We now have our three champions! But in the end only one will go down in history. Only one will hoist this chalice of champions, this vessel of victory the Triwizard Cup!"

Lili let herself clap rather sedately when everyone else cheered again, only rolling her eyes when she saw Ron and Harry shouting like maniacs.

Snape noticed it first.

It was only because Lili saw him staring that she noticed something was happening to the Goblet. The flames once more burnt red, and then in a poof of smoke, another name flew out. Wiry brows furrowed low, Dumbledore quickly snatched the paper from the air.

And then he read the name.

"Harry Potter..." The Headmaster murmured in shock, "Harry Potter?!"

Lili's jaw literally dropped. Harry slowly sank down into his seat.

"Harry Potter!"

Lili jumped at the anger she heard in Dumbledore's voice, and Harry seemed absolutely intent on not moving a single muscle. She fisted her fingers into the sleeve of his sweater, knuckles turning white as she clung to him. She didn't want to let him go. It was only when Hermione urged him into standing, pushing at his back and shoulders that she was forced to release him.

"Go on, Harry," Hermione whispered intensely, "Harry, for goodness sake!"

Harry shakily tripped to his feet, glancing all round like a nervous animal, and he walked very, very slowly up to the waiting Headmaster. The Great Hall was perfectly silent, all eyes on him, not daring to move or speak or even breathe. Very tensely, Dumbledore thrust the paper towards him with a frighteningly blank expression. Harry swallowed hard. Lili did, too.

Bitter voices in the crowd rang out in the Hall:

"He's a cheat!"

"He's not even seventeen yet!"

Just before he disappeared out the side door, Harry looked back over his shoulder and Lili could do nothing but stare.

Holy. Shite.

Half an hour later, she was waiting for him to get out of the meeting of the champions. She didn't envy him for whatever tense conversation was surely going on inside, biting her nails, fiddling with her plaits. Finally, finally, Harry more or less stumbled out of the trophy room, looking distant and dazed, barely even noticing she was there.

She rushed alongside him, latching onto his arm, her eyes blown wide. "Oh my God, Harry, I mean, oh my God!"

Numbly, Harry murmured, "I can fix this..."

Lili rapidly shook her head, "I don't think you can."

"I can fix this!" Harry repeated emphatically.

"How?!"

"A little support here would be good right now, Lili!"

"Yes, yes, of course. Only... oh my God. Merlin, I've just never heard of anyone being capable of tricking an Age Line like that, never mind the Cup..."

Harry peeked at her a bit wearily, murmuring, "You... You believe me, right? That I didn't do it? Put my name into the Cup, I mean..."

"Of course I believe you," Lili blinked, bewildered. "Not only did I see your face when Dumbledore called your name, but I know you, Harry, you didn't want this."

"Thanks," he finally breathed again.

"Don't mention it, yea?" She bit her lip in deep thought, still twisting her fingers into his sweater sleeve. "You know, we could run away. Let's just run — you and me."

Before Harry could respond, a dark and velvety voice said: "A brilliant plan, Lilium, truly. I shudder to imagine what you'll come up with next."

Lili winced, and both teens slowly turned to find Sev standing there, in the shadows, wearing a glower. It wasn't a surprise they hadn't heard him coming; his steps had always been silent, nearly nonexistent.

"To — my — quarters. Now."

Lili sighed, grabbed Harry's hand, and dragged him along after her father through the long corridors and cold dungeons.

Now, this was just getting ridiculous. Over and over, the whole wizarding world was looking at him to be their bloody champion, but that hardly seemed fair, not to Lili at least, even if Harry was willing. Harry looked after the world, but who looked after Harry? Bloody no one. So, Lili had determined herself to be his partner. Not his keeper, but someone who stood at his side and protected him just as much as he protected her.

Finally at their quarters, Sev opened the door and motioned them inside, but Harry still looked pale and numb so Lili carefully looped her arm with his (just in case he fell or something) and guided him in. She sat him in his spot on the sofa and sat a bit closer to him than usual, tugging on a quilt to cover them both. She was genuinely worried about him going into shock.

"Mister Potter."

They both looked up to find Sev staring at them from his armchair, back rigid and expression severe.

"I find that I must... express my remorse over this incident. As soon as the Headmaster found out about the Triwizard Cup, we should have seen this as a possible eventuality, and I hold myself responsible for not providing you with an ample warning."

"Er..." Harry blinked a few times. "That's all right, sir. How could you have known?"

"Mm." Sev drummed his fingers against the armrest, eyes dark and thoughtful.

Lili leant forward in her seat, "Who would do something like this?"

Her father didn't respond right away, simply scowled at the pair of them, as if somehow this was their fault. Eventually, "Someone clearly meaning Mister Potter harm."

"You think someone is trying to kill me?" Harry asked, his voice a bit more strained than before.

Sev glanced over with an arched brow and an 'you're—an—idiot—Potter' expression, "That truly can't be so shocking to you, Potter. Someone is always trying to kill you."

"He has a point," Lili informed Harry, a bit unhelpfully.

Harry just grumbled and sank further into the sofa, pulling the quilt tighter round his shoulders. After a moment of listening only to their deep breaths and the crackling of the fire, he whispered, "I can't win. I can't do it, I'm going to fail—,"

"Then fail." They both looked to Sev who was scowling again, "No one is saying you have to win the bloody thing, Potter. Merlin's teeth, boy. The Tournament's bylaws state that you only have to compete, so engage enough to pass each Task and that is all. Do not put yourself at any more risk than necessary, Potter, someone else is already going through the trouble to do that for you."

"And we'll help you, Harry," Lili whispered, pressing her shoulder to his.

"You can't though," he whispered miserably, "Didn't they say that was cheating?"

Sev snorted, an undignified sound. He seemed to realise it too because his expression quickly flattened once more and he said, "Someone cheated by putting your name in. We will simply even the playing field."

"And I'll survive," Harry determined.

"And you'll survive," Sev did just the same.

Lili blinked a few times, "Merlin, but did you two finally manage to agree on something?"

They both gave her an odd look.

"We agreed on you too, Lili."

The girl blushed, feeling a strange mixture of pleased and embarrassed.

Suddenly, Sev stood with a sort of grand finality.

"Now, I must discuss this with the Headmaster. Sleep, both of you. I refuse to hear any complaints about sleep—deprivation tomorrow morning."

"Yes, sir," the teens both murmured, exchanging tired, if not a bit amused, glances.

Sev swept for the exit, but not before playfully shoving at Lili's head and (strangely enough) nudging Harry's shoulder. But then her father paused just at the door, craning his head round to look over his shoulder, "And Harry, if I find a single trace of you in Lilium's bedroom, I warn you... I know of spells that leave absolutely no trace of human remains once I'm finished with murdering them."

"Er... yes, sir."

Sev stared at them shrewdly for another moment before sweeping out the flat. Lili rolled her eyes only once the door was closed, and she turned to Harry with a long—suffering expression. But Harry's eyes were locked on the fire, and Lili sighed and leant until her head was on his shoulder. It wasn't much, but it was all she could do.

ϟ

Severus went to Albus' office.

It was ridiculous. All of this was. This whole bloody show. Why the hell had they ever thought to resurrect this bloodbath? Complete madness. Albus was being annoyingly quiet while they stared at him, hoping he'd come to his senses. With his barely constrained anger, Severus made sure to keep Minerva between himself and the d—mned Auror. For both their safeties.

"This can't go on, Albus," Severus actually agreed with Minerva when she said, worry thick in her voice, "First the Dark Mark, now this?"

Severus resisted the urge to fidget uncomfortably. He was growing more and more aware of his own Dark Mark, doomed to blacken his arm for all eternity.

Grimly, staring into the glowing Pensieve, Albus asked, "What do you suggest, Minerva?"

"Put an end to it," her voice was nearly shrill with its desperation. "Don't let Potter compete."

"You heard Barty," Albus murmured, "The rules are clear."

"Well, the devil with Barty and his rules!" Minerva crowed, "And since when did you accommodate them...?"

Severus spoke up for the first time, hands clasped tightly in front of him, "Headmaster, I too find it difficult to believe this mere coincidence, but this is obviously a result of Mister Potter's selfish determination for worldwide renown. Surely, we should not enable such deplorable behaviour — no matter how much the Triwizard Tournament would stroke his already enlarged ego."

Severus had to hate the boy in public, insult and vilify him. For some reason, it no longer invoked pleasure. Indeed, perhaps a few years ago, even last year, he might've suggested that they simply let these things unfold to discover the meaning of the events, but... things had been different, lately. He nearly sneered at the thought.

Minerva looked as if she couldn't decide whether to scold him for the insults against her Lion or appreciate the fact that he generally agreed with her. For his part, Moody shot him a worrying look. He looked... surprised? And angry.

The mad Auror stepped forward to gruffly say, "If we're to discover the how and why of this, Albus, we should chance at letting it unfold."

His own eyes narrowed and Minerva practically balked, "Do nothing? Offer him up as bait? Potter is a boy, not a piece of meat!"

Severus' sharp gaze darted to Albus, feeling angry enough to spit fire, wand hand twitching just slightly. "Mister Potter is a Fourth Year student with a truly mediocre understanding of magic, and he will be at risk of a most painful death the moment the First Task begins. "Surely as his guardian, Headmaster, you could dictate whether or not he participated."

"Unless you've gone deaf, Snape, you heard old man Crouch—," Moody groused, but Severus cut him off.

"I did not ask for excuses," he hissed vehemently, tone bringing the room's temperature down by ten degrees. "The boy's name in this blasted Tournament must be removed immediately."

Finally, Albus deigned them worthy enough to hear his thoughts, "You know as well as I that the contract is binding, Severus. There is no way out of it. As it stands, I agree... with Alastor. You'll keep an eye on Harry, won't you?"

Minerva pursed her thin lips.

Moody inclined his grizzled head, "I can do that."

Oh, Severus was about to lose his f—cking mind. Playing games, always playing bloody games, nevermind that it was only their lives at stake. He traded one puppet master for another, and even now, thirteen years later, he was still bound by the same strings. He wasn't even sure which Lily/Lili he should apologise to, indeed, if he should apologise to the d—mned boy himself. His robes billowed when he turned round and stalked to the door, ignoring the Headmaster's final words.

"Don't let him know though; he must be anxious enough as it is, knowing what lies ahead. Then again, we all are..."

Severus slammed the door on his way out.

ϟ

For Harry Potter, there was no fear in being truly known.

No, it was only a great relief.

Sitting with Lili in Snape's quarters, hiding from the rest of the school, Harry tried to capture this feeling in his chest, wishing he could bottle it, make it last forever. He never would've imagined it for himself, not four years ago, and definitely not the ten years before that. For so long, he was alone, he was a freak, he was so small and the adults were so big and he wanted a friend. He wanted someone to tell him that he was safe, that he was important, that he deserved to be here.

Without letting himself think on it too long, Harry leant close and hugged Lili.

When was the last time they'd hugged? First Year? Yea, First Year, when she ran after the train and hugged him because somehow she knew he wouldn't get another until September 1st. She went still in his arms, but he didn't let her go, not just yet. He should, probably, but he couldn't get himself to. She was bony in his arms, all shoulders and arms, and she smelled of vanilla and rain and something spicy sweet like nutmeg, just as he imagined the scent of safety.

He carefully let her go, and she hesitated a moment before pulling away.

Red—cheeked, Harry muttered, "Thanks."

Lili seemed confused, "For what?"

"For... For knowing."

He didn't have to convince her of his innocence. He didn't have to reason or beg or hope. She knew him, and so she knew he wouldn't have wanted 'eternal glory' and whatever else Dumbledore said. It meant a lot.

"Always."

She did know him, better than most, better than almost anyone. He thought it might be mutual. Over the past two summers, they'd learnt things about each other. Big things, small things. Things they wouldn't even think to talk about at Hogwarts when they had Hermione and Ron's bickering, homework and Quidditch, evil or stupid DADA professors, and the Dark Lord's mad schemes to distract them.

Unsurprisingly, Harry's favourite colour was red, but Lili surprised him by confessing her favourite colour was green, instead of the black she always wore. And she learnt he actually quite liked cooking, as long as he wasn't forced to do it. They both were rather good at baking, especially pies. Merlin, they both loved pie. And of course treacle tart.

Harry loved large intricate puzzles, and Lili had tens of sketchbooks to spare (one could never have too many sketchbooks). He loved rain and she loved puddles, and even if he'd never been allowed to jump in any, he was sure he would love them too. He took his tea with just a splash of milk while she practically drowned hers in sugar.

They both preferred cats to dogs, although they each had a soft spot for Fang, the mangy coward. Lili didn't mention that she saw silvery bite marks on Harry's ankles, and Harry didn't mention that he saw a small scar on her left eyebrow. 

Of course Harry loved Quidditch, but he'd been rather hopeless at any and all other sports in the Muggle world. That was all right, though, because Lili was just as hopeless as he was. After all, she had a scar hidden in her hairline from the one time she'd tried roller skating. It was a disaster.

Lili was a homebody, even if she liked the idea of travelling, but the thought of going so far away terrified her. Harry had always wanted to visit the sea, and he fancied the idea of living somewhere quiet and beautiful when he was older.

As soon as he was seventeen, he was moving out of the Dursley's and never looking back. For Lili, well, as soon as she was seventeen, she was sneaking to London to get a tattoo — something she actually wanted this time. And then she was going to get eight NEWTS and then she was attending a hundred concerts and then she was going to open her own Apothecary and then, and then, and then... She had big dreams, and all of them were wonderful.

He didn't think Hermione knew all of that, and he knew Ron certainly didn't.

As Lili slid closer to his side, both of them huddled against the arm of the sofa, Harry wondered if maybe he'd done something wrong by hugging her. True, she hadn't tried to stop him, but it wasn't something they usually did. Mostly, Harry wondered if he should be ashamed. Ashamed to want more, to want any kind of affection offered. Of course he knew never to ask for it, never to search it out — the Dursley's taught him better than that, but he'd always treasured the hugs from Missus Weasley and the shoulder squeezes from Mister Weasley and the very occasional nudge from Snape.

And yet... he wanted more.

God, how he wanted.

So, he had hugged Lili, and he wondered if he should apologise.

And while he was spiraling out of control, full of anxiety about the Tournament and his friends and Lili herself, the girl scooted over and tucked herself fully against him, so not an inch of space existed between them. He hugged her again for that.

"Tell me a story, Lili," Harry said quietly, moving even closer to her. Please, he added in his thoughts. Chase my fear away. It's crushing my chest. Take us somewhere else, somewhere better.

And so, Lili did.

ANNIE SPEAKS

ϟ

SO MUCH HAS HAPPENED. we kinda did a mad dash and now we're already at the triwizard tournament. oops. i DID warn you that some chapters were going to be plot heavy, right? lol. also, you'll notice that i'm kind of doing a bit of a mix of the plot from the movie and from the book so i hope you don't hate that too much, agh! 

okay, okay, not much to say, just tell me your thoughts???

CHAPTER THIRTY—THREE : 

Before anyone had a chance to respond, Lili suddenly felt a tingling in the air — a tearing almost. She perked up and quickly looked round, "What was that?"

Harry looked confused, but Sev knew immediately, "The wards."

They all quickly got to their feet, drawing their wands, but only Sev stepped towards the door that separated their flat from his office. His voice was rough and low when he ordered:

"Stay here."

"What?" came the voices of two fourteen year olds, "We can help!"

Sev hissed and whirled round to glare at them, "You can help by keeping your mouths shut and yourselves hidden."

Then, with his hand still in hand, her father spun round once more and strode swiftly from their flat into his office. Curiously enough, he left the door between rooms just slightly open. Very curious. Lili and Harry didn't even have to discuss it. They both immediately crept forward and slid as close to the door as they dared, leaning to listen in.

Clunk. Clunk. Clunk.

Lili recognised that sound and who it belonged to: Alastor Moody.

see below for my meme for today!!