Lily Evans (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lilium_evansiae) wrote2011-01-17 08:20 pm
lilium_evansiae) wrote2011-01-17 08:20 pm
Entry tags:
Professor Slughorn's Easter Party, 9 April 1976
It turns out it's quite difficult to contract dragon pox at Hogwarts.
Which is probably just as well, under ordinary circumstances, but it does mean that at 8:00 on 9 April, Lily has absolutely no viable excuse for skipping Slughorn's Easter party.
(And she can't just pretend to be sick, because Perdita would never let her hear the end of it.)
She meets Severus in the hallway outside Slughorn's office.
"You look very nice," he tells her.
"Thank you," she says. "So do you."
"Shall we, then?"
"Yes, let's," she says, going through the door before he can do something like offer her his arm.
The party is a bit of a disaster from the start. Lily gets the feeling that Professor Slughorn tried to throw it together a little too quickly. The food, of course, is excellent, but there don't seem to be nearly as many dazzling former members of the Slug Club as there had been at Christmas. The band he hired is late, though on the plus side, that means Lily doesn't have to think of a reason not to dance.
She and Severus spend twenty minutes talking to Professor Slughorn about the upcoming Potions OWL, which hardly feels like party talk, but at least it's something easy to talk about. And someone they can both talk to, and there aren't many of those. He doesn't seem anxious to spend time with Cliona and Fenton, and she certainly doesn't want to join the knot of Slytherins in the corner.
Mostly, they just stand around, waiting for something to happen. And while there have been any number of times Lily has talked to Sev for hours and not run out of things to say, tonight no topic quite takes hold, fizzling away to awkward silence after a moment or two.
Twice, she sees his eyes dart away from her to his Housemates and their closed conference in the corner.
After about an hour, Lily is ready for a break.
"Would you excuse me for just a moment, Sev?" she asks.
"Of course," he says.
She tells herself that she does not hear relief in his voice.
Tells herself that she doesn't hear it in hers, either, when she says, "Thanks. I'll be right back."
She lingers longer in the ladies than she planned to, because she can. Because it's easier than going back to the party, which doesn't really deserve the name. 'Gathering,' maybe. Or 'event.' 'Function.'
But not 'party.'
Finally she looks at herself in the mirror. "Hardly acting like a Gryffindor, here, Evans," she tells her reflection, sternly, and then heads back to find Severus.
He's drifted away from where she last saw him, towards the knot of his Housemates in the corner. She isn't really surprised, but she's also not about to go join them. She doesn't want to any more than they want her to. Perhaps, though, if she goes to stand near enough for him to see her, he can excuse himself and come join her. She'll give it a minute, she decides, and then go talk to Cliona.
She's almost reached the spot she picked out when a voice cuts clear across the surrounding murmur.
"Really, Severus, what were you thinking, bringing a Mudblood to our Head of House's party? It's an insult."
Lily, still half-hidden from the group by a palm tree in a gaudy pot, freezes.
She doesn't have to see his face to know the speaker is Rafferty Gibbon, a seventh year Slytherin, whose father is well-enough placed at the Ministry to garner his son an invitation to these events.
She can't make out Sev's mumbled reply, but there's no way to miss Gibbon's laughter in response.
"Come on, Severus. Don't kid yourself. The bitch is never going to spread her legs for you." Gibbon turns and looks directly at Lily. "Isn't that right, gorgeous?"
For one moment, Lily feels like she's going to throw up.
The smart move here, she suspects, is just to walk away. Not to dignify that with a response, just to leave.
But then, she's in Gryffindor, not Ravenclaw.
So instead she steps out from behind the palm tree, into full view of Severus and Gibbon and the other half-dozen Slytherins.
She's not sure how she manages to keep her voice completely steady, but she does. "That'll be fifteen points from Slytherin, Gibbon. For language."
"Language?" he drawls, tone amused, falsely inquisitive. "Do you mean 'Mudblood' or 'bitch'?"
"Thirty, then. Do you want to go for forty-five?"
"You filthy little ... "
"Forty-five," she says. "Sixty?"
She's expecting it, when his wand comes up. But Lily learned in second year that being left-handed has certain advantages. And one of them is that if your opponent doesn't know you're left-handed, chances are, he's watching the wrong hand.
"Expelliarmus!"
Gibbon's wand arcs through the air, hits the wall behind Lily, clatters to the floor and rolls until it hits the shoe of Crispin Rivers, Head Boy.
He does not look amused. "What the hell is going on here?"
"Nothing," Gibbon says, smoothly. "Bit of harmless fun."
"Funny, because from where I'm standing, it looks like you just insulted and then tried to curse a prefect." Rivers looks quickly from Gibbon and the other Slytherins over to Lily. "Are you all right, Evans?"
She nods. "I'm fine."
But she's not. She can feel her hands starting to shake.
River picks Gibbon's wand up out of the floor, but does not offer it back to him. "Gibbon, you and I are going to go have a little talk with Professor Slughorn. Blane," he calls.
Fenton Blane comes over to join them, Cliona a few steps behind him. "Yes, Rivers?"
"Would you please see that Evans gets back to Gryffindor Tower without incident?"
Fenton nods. "Of course."
"I can do that," Severus says, quickly. It's the first thing he's said since Lily stepped out from the behind the tree.
"Thank you, Snape," Rivers says, "but I think Blane has this in hand. Gibbon, let's go."
"Lily, please, I -- " Severus says stepping away from his Housemates and toward her.
"Not now," Lily says. "I can't."
She can't even quite bring herself to look at him.
"Come on, Lily," Cliona says, putting her arm across Lily's shoulders. "Let's get out of here, okay?"
Lily nods.
They don't talk on the way back to the dormitory.
What is there to say?
Which is probably just as well, under ordinary circumstances, but it does mean that at 8:00 on 9 April, Lily has absolutely no viable excuse for skipping Slughorn's Easter party.
(And she can't just pretend to be sick, because Perdita would never let her hear the end of it.)
She meets Severus in the hallway outside Slughorn's office.
"You look very nice," he tells her.
"Thank you," she says. "So do you."
"Shall we, then?"
"Yes, let's," she says, going through the door before he can do something like offer her his arm.
The party is a bit of a disaster from the start. Lily gets the feeling that Professor Slughorn tried to throw it together a little too quickly. The food, of course, is excellent, but there don't seem to be nearly as many dazzling former members of the Slug Club as there had been at Christmas. The band he hired is late, though on the plus side, that means Lily doesn't have to think of a reason not to dance.
She and Severus spend twenty minutes talking to Professor Slughorn about the upcoming Potions OWL, which hardly feels like party talk, but at least it's something easy to talk about. And someone they can both talk to, and there aren't many of those. He doesn't seem anxious to spend time with Cliona and Fenton, and she certainly doesn't want to join the knot of Slytherins in the corner.
Mostly, they just stand around, waiting for something to happen. And while there have been any number of times Lily has talked to Sev for hours and not run out of things to say, tonight no topic quite takes hold, fizzling away to awkward silence after a moment or two.
Twice, she sees his eyes dart away from her to his Housemates and their closed conference in the corner.
After about an hour, Lily is ready for a break.
"Would you excuse me for just a moment, Sev?" she asks.
"Of course," he says.
She tells herself that she does not hear relief in his voice.
Tells herself that she doesn't hear it in hers, either, when she says, "Thanks. I'll be right back."
She lingers longer in the ladies than she planned to, because she can. Because it's easier than going back to the party, which doesn't really deserve the name. 'Gathering,' maybe. Or 'event.' 'Function.'
But not 'party.'
Finally she looks at herself in the mirror. "Hardly acting like a Gryffindor, here, Evans," she tells her reflection, sternly, and then heads back to find Severus.
He's drifted away from where she last saw him, towards the knot of his Housemates in the corner. She isn't really surprised, but she's also not about to go join them. She doesn't want to any more than they want her to. Perhaps, though, if she goes to stand near enough for him to see her, he can excuse himself and come join her. She'll give it a minute, she decides, and then go talk to Cliona.
She's almost reached the spot she picked out when a voice cuts clear across the surrounding murmur.
"Really, Severus, what were you thinking, bringing a Mudblood to our Head of House's party? It's an insult."
Lily, still half-hidden from the group by a palm tree in a gaudy pot, freezes.
She doesn't have to see his face to know the speaker is Rafferty Gibbon, a seventh year Slytherin, whose father is well-enough placed at the Ministry to garner his son an invitation to these events.
She can't make out Sev's mumbled reply, but there's no way to miss Gibbon's laughter in response.
"Come on, Severus. Don't kid yourself. The bitch is never going to spread her legs for you." Gibbon turns and looks directly at Lily. "Isn't that right, gorgeous?"
For one moment, Lily feels like she's going to throw up.
The smart move here, she suspects, is just to walk away. Not to dignify that with a response, just to leave.
But then, she's in Gryffindor, not Ravenclaw.
So instead she steps out from behind the palm tree, into full view of Severus and Gibbon and the other half-dozen Slytherins.
She's not sure how she manages to keep her voice completely steady, but she does. "That'll be fifteen points from Slytherin, Gibbon. For language."
"Language?" he drawls, tone amused, falsely inquisitive. "Do you mean 'Mudblood' or 'bitch'?"
"Thirty, then. Do you want to go for forty-five?"
"You filthy little ... "
"Forty-five," she says. "Sixty?"
She's expecting it, when his wand comes up. But Lily learned in second year that being left-handed has certain advantages. And one of them is that if your opponent doesn't know you're left-handed, chances are, he's watching the wrong hand.
"Expelliarmus!"
Gibbon's wand arcs through the air, hits the wall behind Lily, clatters to the floor and rolls until it hits the shoe of Crispin Rivers, Head Boy.
He does not look amused. "What the hell is going on here?"
"Nothing," Gibbon says, smoothly. "Bit of harmless fun."
"Funny, because from where I'm standing, it looks like you just insulted and then tried to curse a prefect." Rivers looks quickly from Gibbon and the other Slytherins over to Lily. "Are you all right, Evans?"
She nods. "I'm fine."
But she's not. She can feel her hands starting to shake.
River picks Gibbon's wand up out of the floor, but does not offer it back to him. "Gibbon, you and I are going to go have a little talk with Professor Slughorn. Blane," he calls.
Fenton Blane comes over to join them, Cliona a few steps behind him. "Yes, Rivers?"
"Would you please see that Evans gets back to Gryffindor Tower without incident?"
Fenton nods. "Of course."
"I can do that," Severus says, quickly. It's the first thing he's said since Lily stepped out from the behind the tree.
"Thank you, Snape," Rivers says, "but I think Blane has this in hand. Gibbon, let's go."
"Lily, please, I -- " Severus says stepping away from his Housemates and toward her.
"Not now," Lily says. "I can't."
She can't even quite bring herself to look at him.
"Come on, Lily," Cliona says, putting her arm across Lily's shoulders. "Let's get out of here, okay?"
Lily nods.
They don't talk on the way back to the dormitory.
What is there to say?