His Masterpiece

Chapter 6

Some text is taken from He Knew He Was Right by Anthony Trollope (1869).

*****

Lily couldn't help but let her eyes drift toward Severus, searching for some lingering flicker of that boy she had loved. There was a viciousness to him now; or, rather, it had always been there, bubbling beneath the surface, but tempered by something. Lily's presence maybe. Isn't that a stupid, girlish thing to believe, she snarled within her own mind. 'The love of a good woman changing a man.' Ha! That's for the movies.

Maybe he hadn't changed. Maybe she had.

The world had once seemed so complicated and confusing, only making sense when she was with Sev. Without him, she had felt like a square peg in a round hole. But now that he was gone she felt her corners sanded off to allow her to slide neatly into place, and she wasn't sure if she liked it.

Lily coated her pale lashes in mascara and straightened her hair. She adjusted her skirt, making sure the pleats were neat and even. "A Potions mastery?" Marlene parroted back when Lily told her what her plans were after graduation. Marlene's nose wrinkled at the thought. "Do you really want to come home smelling like fumes and animal guts? I can't imagine a worse turnoff for any man. You're really good at Charms, you should do something with that."

And so Lily had gone to Slughorn, thanked him for the recommendation, but informed him that she would be pursuing a field in enchantment. "What a shame," Professor Slughorn had sighed. "I had rather hoped you would take over for me when I retired."

She would sometimes spot Severus tramping out of the Forbidden Forest, his hair unwashed and covered in leaves, his cloak filled with mushrooms, boots muddy and untied. She thought, he needs to grow up. We're not little kids anymore. Doesn't he know the things people say about him? Lily opened her compact, checked her lipstick, and tried not to think back at how it used to be. Barefoot, jeans rolled up without a care for her unshaven legs, splashing in the muddy waters outside Cokeworth.

Snape. He was Snape now. Only Mulciber and Avery ever called him Severus. Severus or Mudblood, and it made her sick to her stomach to see him roll his eyes good-naturedly at their words.

"He's an idiot if he thinks he'll somehow be different. No matter how much he sucks up to them, he'll always be just another half-blood," Lily growled into her butterbeer, wishing her birthday would hurry up so she could order something a little stronger. Her birthday was January 30. Sev's was January 9.

"Mmm," Remus hummed, knowing that Lily wasn't looking for a response, only a warm body to rant at.

Remus was the only person she could talk to about Sev. Snape. He was oddly tolerant of the subject, compared to everyone else in her life. It was a shame Remus didn't have a girlfriend. He was kind of cute, even with all the scars. Maybe because of the scars. Sev had scars too. Girls would probably flock to him if Remus didn't dress so shabbily. Lily liked shabby. It made him seem... eccentric. Like he had too much on his mind to bother with how he looked. Unlike Potter, whose carefully messy hair reeked of artifice.

"Hey," Lily said, catching his attention.

They were tucked into a booth, sitting side by side at the Three Broomsticks, waiting for their friends. Remus looked up, a quizzical expression marring his yellow-tinted gaze. Lily leaned forward and closed her eyes. Her lips had only just brushed against him when Remus jerked back, looking frantically all around him.

"Don't do that," he scolded. "We can't do that."

Lily narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean can't?" Why was everyone always telling her what she could and could not do?