Lily Evans (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lilium_evansiae) wrote2011-06-20 09:46 pm
lilium_evansiae) wrote2011-06-20 09:46 pm
Entry tags:
Monday, 10 October 1976
Lily, brushing her hair Monday morning, stops, focuses on her reflection in the mirror, and smiles.
It's one of those rare, lovely days when her hair falls exactly as it's supposed to, the way neither mechanical or magical means can ever quite achieve. It just has to happen. And it has.
She leaves it down, over her shoulders, even though she has Potions later today, and it'll mean making sure she doesn't accidentially drag her hair into a cauldron or anything like that. Because rare, lovely days when her hair falls exactly as it's supposed to are not to be wasted on plaits.
She leaves Gryffindor Tower in a good mood, which she is not going to let anything change, she decides, not even Perdita's ongoing whinge (three days and counting) about Black 'abandoning' her Friday night to go off with his friends and then spending most of Saturday 'hiding' in his room instead of making it up to her, and then telling her on Sunday to just leave him bloody alone for fifteen minutes, would she?
(Lily had looked up at the huge, round moon hanging in the sky on Friday, and remembered the discussion she used to have with Severus on a near monthly basis -- he's ill; they say he's ill -- and said nothing.)
In short, she feels pretty and witty and bright, on Monday morning, and she takes it as a good sign for the coming day and week.
The mood lasts through breakfast, even when Perdita and Black have a terribly overdone 'reunion' and Cliona rolls her eyes so hard Lily half-expects to have to take to her the hospital wing because she's somehow sprained them.
And then, in Charms, Lily freezes, for just a second. It's the feeling that her mother talks about as someone having walked over her grave. Lily looks around the room, wondering what out what caused it, and then decides she's being silly.
She can't quite shake the feeling, though. The hairs on the back of her neck are ever so slightly on end.
It isn't until lunch that she figures it out.
Well, more correctly, Glynis figures it out.
"Severus Snape is staring at you," she says, frowning, as she passes Lily the pitcher of pumpkin juice.
Cliona looks up, eyes narrowed. "Yes, he is," she says.
"Maybe he's just looking in this general direction," Lily says. She has sat with her back to the Slytherin table at every meal this year.
"No, he's definitely staring," Cliona says.
"It's creepy," Glynis says.
Lily, without really meaning to, turns to look over her shoulder.
Her eyes meet his -- he looks neither down nor away -- just for a second, and then she turns back to her friends. "It's nothing," she says. "Just ignore him."
It makes her skin crawl, though.
He's staring at her like ... like he knows exactly what she's thinking.
(But then, he probably does. They were good friends for a long time. She hasn't changed that much since she last spoke to him, has she?)
It's almost a relief when Perdita drops into the seat on the other side of Mary's a moment later, completely oblivious to anything involving anyone at the Slytherin table, having un-reunited with Black and in the mood to talk about it.
Lily excuses herself from lunch earlier than usual, and locks herself in the girls' lavatory, which is such a cliche she's almost ashamed of the decision, but he can't follow her there.
(Not that he really has been following her -- Charms is as much his class as hers, everyone has lunch at the same time. What's she supposed to do? Tell him off for looking at her?)
She thinks about staying there through Potions -- it's such a small class, and he'll be there -- but she's not the sort to skive off classes. Besides, she's not about to let Severus Snape keep her from attending her best class. Not today, not ever.
She's very nearly late, though, arriving just as Slughorn is closing the door, because she doesn't want any time to hang around waiting for something to happen. She barely responds to Slughorn's cheerful greeting. She responds less than that to the one from Potter, just sets up her things at the other end of the work table they've been sharing for the last month, and gets to work.
She does not turn around to look and see if Severus is in his usual spot, at the back of the room, with the other Slytherins.
She doesn't look around at all.
And she's very glad she left her hair down this morning.
It gives her something to hide behind.
It's one of those rare, lovely days when her hair falls exactly as it's supposed to, the way neither mechanical or magical means can ever quite achieve. It just has to happen. And it has.
She leaves it down, over her shoulders, even though she has Potions later today, and it'll mean making sure she doesn't accidentially drag her hair into a cauldron or anything like that. Because rare, lovely days when her hair falls exactly as it's supposed to are not to be wasted on plaits.
She leaves Gryffindor Tower in a good mood, which she is not going to let anything change, she decides, not even Perdita's ongoing whinge (three days and counting) about Black 'abandoning' her Friday night to go off with his friends and then spending most of Saturday 'hiding' in his room instead of making it up to her, and then telling her on Sunday to just leave him bloody alone for fifteen minutes, would she?
(Lily had looked up at the huge, round moon hanging in the sky on Friday, and remembered the discussion she used to have with Severus on a near monthly basis -- he's ill; they say he's ill -- and said nothing.)
In short, she feels pretty and witty and bright, on Monday morning, and she takes it as a good sign for the coming day and week.
The mood lasts through breakfast, even when Perdita and Black have a terribly overdone 'reunion' and Cliona rolls her eyes so hard Lily half-expects to have to take to her the hospital wing because she's somehow sprained them.
And then, in Charms, Lily freezes, for just a second. It's the feeling that her mother talks about as someone having walked over her grave. Lily looks around the room, wondering what out what caused it, and then decides she's being silly.
She can't quite shake the feeling, though. The hairs on the back of her neck are ever so slightly on end.
It isn't until lunch that she figures it out.
Well, more correctly, Glynis figures it out.
"Severus Snape is staring at you," she says, frowning, as she passes Lily the pitcher of pumpkin juice.
Cliona looks up, eyes narrowed. "Yes, he is," she says.
"Maybe he's just looking in this general direction," Lily says. She has sat with her back to the Slytherin table at every meal this year.
"No, he's definitely staring," Cliona says.
"It's creepy," Glynis says.
Lily, without really meaning to, turns to look over her shoulder.
Her eyes meet his -- he looks neither down nor away -- just for a second, and then she turns back to her friends. "It's nothing," she says. "Just ignore him."
It makes her skin crawl, though.
He's staring at her like ... like he knows exactly what she's thinking.
(But then, he probably does. They were good friends for a long time. She hasn't changed that much since she last spoke to him, has she?)
It's almost a relief when Perdita drops into the seat on the other side of Mary's a moment later, completely oblivious to anything involving anyone at the Slytherin table, having un-reunited with Black and in the mood to talk about it.
Lily excuses herself from lunch earlier than usual, and locks herself in the girls' lavatory, which is such a cliche she's almost ashamed of the decision, but he can't follow her there.
(Not that he really has been following her -- Charms is as much his class as hers, everyone has lunch at the same time. What's she supposed to do? Tell him off for looking at her?)
She thinks about staying there through Potions -- it's such a small class, and he'll be there -- but she's not the sort to skive off classes. Besides, she's not about to let Severus Snape keep her from attending her best class. Not today, not ever.
She's very nearly late, though, arriving just as Slughorn is closing the door, because she doesn't want any time to hang around waiting for something to happen. She barely responds to Slughorn's cheerful greeting. She responds less than that to the one from Potter, just sets up her things at the other end of the work table they've been sharing for the last month, and gets to work.
She does not turn around to look and see if Severus is in his usual spot, at the back of the room, with the other Slytherins.
She doesn't look around at all.
And she's very glad she left her hair down this morning.
It gives her something to hide behind.
no subject
He's even been able to bear Sirius and Perdita's constant not-really-a-break-up fights (which are loud and obnoxious, and very, very frequent as of late) knowing he could talk to Lily about it if he didn't feel like doing so with Remus or Peter or Cliona.
So when Lily comes into Potions class that afternoon, seeming a little distant, he's rather confused.
He goes back to his work, just for a moment, then unable to help himself, he looks up and leans in.
"Hey — Evans, are you all right?"
no subject
"Yeah, I'm fine.
"It's, um, well, it's a difficult Potion, isn't it?"
(Not particularly. Not for her, anyway.)
no subject
... yeah.
Something is up.
no subject
And goes back to cutting up her nettles with a great deal more care or precision than is required.
no subject
In between stirring crushed snake fangs into his cauldron, he rewinds back to the past ten days and every conversation he and Lily have had in that time.
It can't have been anything he did.
(Can it?)
He didn't actually do anything ... that he knows of.
And then, just before his potion turns deep blue when it should be pale, he looks up, just past Lily — and sees him.
Snivellus Snape.
Their eyes meet.
no subject
Either someone has just spilled a bottle of testosterone or ...
Well, the staring down across the classroom is kind of hard to miss, if you're essentially standing in the crossfire of it.
"James, don't make this worse, please," Lily says, very quietly, and looking over at him without turning her head.
no subject
Of course, not before the pure loathing in his black eyes reaches James Potter.
"How long has he been watching you like that?" James asks, shifting his glance back to Lily.
no subject
"I don't know. Lunch.
"Charms, maybe."
(Since before she actually met him, but she doesn't know that.)
"Just ignore it."
no subject
That would be like —
Like seeing a bludger come right at you and being told to 'ignore it'. It won't go away, and it won't stop smashing your face in unless you do something about it.
"But it's bothering you," he says.
His voice is gentler.
no subject
"Any kind of reaction is just going to make it worse. It's what he wants, right?"
Some kind of interaction?
no subject
(His potion has now turned deep emerald green and not the pale blue he was supposed to be aiming for at all.
But that is hardly on his mind.)
It's not right.
"There's always another option," he finally says.
no subject
Lily shakes her head.
"No.
"Please just ignore it."
She nods toward his cauldron.
"And if you add those doxy eggs, your potion is probably going to start releasing fumes that'll render you unconscious before I can get over there to put the lid on your cauldron."
no subject
She's right.
"Bugger." He grabs his wand and mutters, "Evanesco."
His cauldron is promptly as clean as the day he'd pulled it out of Remus' trunk. He'll have to start his potion again, but he doesn't really care.
"I'll talk to him."
no subject
She can't imagine any way that doesn't make things worse.
no subject
Seeing her now and having seen her just this morning at breakfast — they're two completely different Lilys.
And it bothers him that he can't help in some way.
"Ignoring him won't fix a thing."
no subject
Her chin comes up just a little.
"So he can stare all he likes. It doesn't change anything."
Lily pulls her hair back, over her shoulders and out of her way.
(And out of her face.)
"Right," she says, briskly. "Try using half again as many nettles as it calls for, and only let it sit for three minutes, not three and a half, before you add the snake fangs."
no subject
James straightens in his seat and reaches for the ingredients to give his potion another go, almost unable to hide the smile on his face.
That's more like the Lily he knows.
James doesn't even look back at Snape again, this time.
Because she's right.
It doesn't change anything.
no subject
She might even be smiling again, by the time Potter's potion is (almost) the right shade of pale blue.