❝ 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 FOUR, chapter sixty—two : oh, won't wave my white flag, no this time i won't let go i'd rather die than give up the fight
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19 july 1997 — it would have been their seventh year.
"THESE ARE DARK TIMES, THERE IS NO DENYING. OUR WORLD HAS PERHAPS FACED NO GREATER THREAT THAN IT DOES TODAY. BUT I SAY THIS TO OUR CITIZENRY...
"WE, EVER YOUR SERVANTS, CONTINUE TO DEFEND YOUR LIBERTY AND REPEL THE FORCES THAT WOULD SEEK TO TAKE IT FROM YOU.
"YOUR MINISTRY REMAINS STRONG!"
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A blood red moon.
Two specks — night birds or bats, perhaps — approached rapidly.
Far below, a black sea of treetops swayed eerily.
Two plumes of smoke cut through the frigid air, sailing over the trees to reach a narrow moonlit lane. These two shadows rippled across the ground like a kite made of water as their forms shifted into a solid state, forming blood and bones and tissue. Father and daughter. Two pairs of boots touched down upon the graveled lane, passing through the locked gate untouched, turning to mist at their very touch. Black cloaks fluttered behind the stiff shoulders of a wizard and his witchy daughter, matching black hair splayed across their windblown collars.
Moonlight illuminated their pale faces.
They didn't speak. Didn't say a word between them. They hardly spoke at all these days.
Their boots crunched on a long gravel path towards the large Manor beyond, dark and cold, as if it had seen better days. The front doors glided open at their arrival. As they entered, dark eyes in torch—lit portraits tracked the father and daughter from above. Atop the long marble staircase, a tall set of familiar double doors loomed at the end of the grand corridor.
The world she lived in looked unfamiliar — unfamiliar manors, unfamiliar roads, unfamiliar trees, even the black and emerald sky looked unfamiliar — but Lili was used to that. She had never really felt at home anywhere. Hogwarts was her home, her father and her professors and her friends, and perhaps the courage she once had.
She was homeless now.
At the great doors, the Snape's hesitated for mere a heartbeat before pushing open the doors and entering the new war room. Two dozen figures sat silently at a large ornate table, illuminated by the flickering light of a fireplace. Lili studied the scene and then her black eyes rose. Revolving slowly near the ceiling, as if suspended by an invisible rope, was an unconscious woman whose face she couldn't see.
