❝ he and i are closer than friends, we are enemies linked together, the same sin binds us ❞ | in which lilium snape is bound to harry potter by fate, destined to stand on either side of a war that will soon be waged. she is cursed by prophecy, or so...
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ACT THREE, chapter fifty—five : one eye broken and one eye bruised 'cause i gave myself away for you you liar, you don't love me too
losing you is easier than lying to myself that you love me
ϟ
Lili's plan to avoid Severus failed within twenty—four hours.
Because it was time. Again.
When her Mark burnt for the first time this school year, Lili found herself moving — almost calmly, moreso numbly — to Severus' office. Her father anticipated her arrival once more, standing before the fireplace with his cloak and his white mask in his pocket. They didn't speak when they stepped through the Floo and then into the darkened streets of Hogsmeade.
Severus' face was eclipsed in shadow when he rumbled, "Are you prepared?"
Lili didn't respond apart from taking her father's arm and letting him Disapparate them away.
The Dark Lord awaited them.
This time, he hadn't called them to Little Hangleton but to the top of an unfamiliar hill, overlooking a Muggle village. A burning Muggle village. Buildings were crumbling, people were screaming, flames were licking the sky. Lili resisted the urge to cover her nose at the scent of sulfur and blood, the stench of burning flesh.
The girl was sure somewhere down below was her mother and the others that bore the same Dark Mark that branded her own arm, terrorising innocents simply for the fun of it.
Above, the moon was little more than a crescent, and the sky was a devastating red, boiling and burning. Ashen snowflakes of the burning village fell so beautifully that Lili was nearly tempted to stretch out her tongue to catch them, to taste them. They would have scorched her lips. They would have cooked her mouth.
Lili would have welcomed the pain.
It was no easier to bow before the Dark Lord than it was the last time. Bile flooded the taste of her mouth when she dropped to her knees in the damp grass, dark cloak surrounding her in a pool of thick black fabric. It was only then that the girl noticed someone on the ground, separating the Snape's from their Master.
Instantly, she knew: a Muggle.
Gasping for air, body twitching, bleeding out in the grass.
The girl could nearly smell the man's fear, sour and bitter in the frigid air. She wanted to reach out to him, to help him, to save him from dying at their feet like a creature of prey. But she buried that deep behind her diamond shields, knowing just how dangerous her thinking was.
