❝ 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—nine :
you can start a family or you can start a war began with good intentions now you don't know what you're fighting for
ϟ
Things changed after that.
They got... better, day by day.
Lili got re—acquainted with the comforts of home and the familiarity of the people round her. There were shared meals and after—dinner conversations and round the fire discussions, and even when she woke screaming from nightmares, she had Harry to soothe her back to sleep. She no longer hid herself away from those who loved her; she let herself be welcomed well and truly home.
Tonight, Hermione was brushing her hair.
So, so tenderly. She could hardly remember ever being treated with such gentleness. Lili relished in it. Nowadays, her hair was like a black noisy ocean down her back. There was just so much of it, hard to contain as always, crazy and untamed — falling over her body like a protective cape. It no longer stunk like dirt and concrete, dungeon and dust, making her feel sick. It smelt of mint now, glossy and shiny since it had been washed properly.
Lili closed her eyes and listened to Hermione humming softly as she stroked the bristles through that wild ocean.
When she first started Hogwarts, Lili was determined not to make friends. She walked round those frigid halls in her black velvet dresses, her fishnets, her dragonhide boots, tangled plaits, and thick, messy eyeliner because no one ever taught her how. And she thought she would have no one — always, 'til Hermione. Because she chose her. Hermione, brilliant and bold and nervous Hermione, insisted on being her friend. And when Hermione Jean Granger put her mind on something, there was very little one could do to stop her.
They could tell one another anything, and they did. She learnt that underneath that big brilliant mind was a girl who never had any friends either, and Hermione used to cry about it. And she confessed that she loved the nickname 'Lili', even if her name was really 'Lilium', but oh Merlin, don't say it in front of Sev, because for some reason it made him sad and she wished she understood him, and her father would have a fit, an absolute fit, 'Mione!
'I kissed Harry' and 'Then help me understand, Lili!' and 'We could have gone to ol' Sluggy's party together!' and 'Oh, wow, Lili, your magic. Did you do that? It's kind of beautiful. It makes me a little scared, but it's so very beautiful.'
And in their dorm, with the hanging red drapes and so many flowers and a moving constellation ceiling, Hermione read books and Lili laughed loud and they taught each other how to put on eyeliner.
And that was that.
Her own very best friend.
The two girls sat cross—legged in the small sitting room, drinking tea and eating stale Nice biscuits — apparently favoured by Ron's elderly aunt. Lili breathed in the comforting smell of Hermione; like cinnamon and old books — she could breathe her best friend in forever.
