Chapter Text
When the first rays of sunlight began to filter through the windows, Lily could hardly contain her excitement. Her hands twitched to throw off the covers and shout, but she resisted the urge. She was ten-years-old, for goodness sake! She would never do something so childish as to wake the entire house for her birthday.
That was a lie. She definitely would.
Lily threw open her doors and began running through the hallways, uncaring of the creaks from the old wooden paneling. Her mother was already blearily opening the door, still yawning, when Lily stood with her fist poised to knock.
“Well, well, Lily,” Alba deadpanned. “What has you all excited?”
Lily felt the bubble of joy in her stomach slightly deflate. Her mother could be forgetful, and a little harsh, but she hadn’t ever forgotten her birthday. She had never let Lily know, anyway.
Her mother must have sensed her growing discomfort and smiled wanly.
“Your birthday, Lily. I was joking. I didn’t forget.”
She didn’t forget! How could she forget? Lily chastised herself for letting her imagination run wild. This was just the thing her mother had warned her against since…ever. Too many people had told her that her mother’s heart was too fragile to withstand another heartbreak.
“Where’s Dad?”
Alba’s face tightened in the way it always did when Lily would call her father by those informal, endearing terms. Lily didn’t understand why–whenever she tried to call her mother anything but mother, she’d see her face turn pinched and drawn. Lily didn’t like when her mother looked at her like that, so she didn’t do it.
“He’s down in his study,” replied Alba. “He’s working on his business reports. Do you want to go down to the Snapes’? Clean yourself up first, Lily. Nobody likes a slob.”
Without waiting for a reply, she smiled warmly, and tap-tapped down the fine oak stairs. And even though the suggestion had been laced with criticism, Lily’s morning became just a little brighter.
Oh, she knew the only reason why Alba wanted her to play with Severus Snape was so she could forge some connection with his mother, the mysterious Eileen Prince. The children at the playground always gossipped about her: her lack of participation in all the mothers’ club, her rare public appearances, and, when she was seen, her odd fashion choices. Why, the only reason the Snape family had been permitted into the community at all was their donations to every charity the community supported, the sums typically surpassing those that the mothers’ club had raised. The children had shared quite a laugh over her fashion, especially; Lily felt ashamed that she too had participated in the comments against her peculiar cloak, and sharp, pointed cap. But she knew more now; she was actually friends with Severus Snape.
Severus Snape, or Sev as she liked to call him, was outgoing. She knew he was the boy that made friends easily, that people liked because of his aura. He wasn’t like her, a forced socialite whose friends consisted of the children of her mother’s. Their friendship, however unlikely, went far deeper than the surface.
She and Sev could do magic.
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It had been a warm summer’s day when the two of them first met, the scent of dahlias inescapable. Alba had taken special care when dressing her that morning; her prettiest dress, black mary-janes shined to perfection, and hair tied back neatly with a white ribbon.
Kneeling down to strap Lily’s shoes, Alba began speaking in a low, stern voice.
“Listen carefully, now, Lily,” Alba said. “Today is a very important day, so none of your usual immaturity will be tolerated. You will be polite and befriend Severus Snape, and I will find out what business the generous Eileen Prince has with our little community. Do take care not to pick up any of their… peculiarities .”
There was a heavy silence as Lily processed her mother’s words.
“Well?” her mother asked expectantly, some of the same venom leaking into her tone. “Do you understand?”
“Yes ma’am,” Lily responded quietly, gaze not quite reaching her mother’s.
The smile that spread thinly across Alba’s lips was enough to ease some of Lily’s tension. The car ride to Snape Manor was silent save for the soft piano and violin of the radio–she recognized it as Mozart’s Requiem, one of her mother’s favorites.
Lily could feel the dread begin piling in her chest again during the walk to the front door. She didn’t like the idea of being friends with Severus just to spy on his mother. It felt wrong . But if her mother insists, it can’t be so bad.
Alba’s pale gloved hands clasped the golden knocker, tapping it softly against the imposing dark oak. Lily stared blankly at the roses beside the entrance, trying to distract herself. They were such a lovely color.
A boy around Lily’s age opened the door with a creak. He was dressed oddly, in loose, dark clothing that seemed to dwarf him almost as much as the door. His face, though almost unnaturally pale, was pleasant enough, but he donned a disinterested, borderline annoyed, expression. Not to mention his hair. Goodness, his hair! Not only was it chin-length, but it looked like it hadn’t been brushed in weeks. Lily could see the twitch of her mother’s eye, signifying her distaste for his appearance, and she could have sworn she heard Alba mutter something about the boy’s unruliness , but the thought of her mother breaking etiquette was unthinkable. Lily watched as her mother’s painted lips peeled upwards into her “entertaining smile,” the plastic one used for public appearances.
After an uncomfortable silence, the boy opened his mouth.
“Who are you and what do you want?” he scowled, eyebrows furrowed.
Alba’s eye twitched.
“Young man, don’t you know it’s disrespectful to ask for someone’s name before offering your own?” Alba forced through her smile. Lily knew her mother had never had much of an affinity for children, let alone those who disobeyed her.
“Oh, sorry ,” he said with a not-so-subtle roll of his eyes. “My name is Severus Snape, and you?”
There was a sharp intake of breath from Lily at his blatant disrespect. The sheer nerve of this boy.
“Well met, Severus,” she said calmly, her pleasant smile plastered back on her face. “We are guests of your mother. I am Alba Evans, and this is my daughter, Lily. Your mother and I figured your closeness in age might make you good playmates.”
“Ah,” Severus said, understanding dawning on him. “Right this way, then. I’ll guide you to the sitting room—mother was just about to take her afternoon tea.”
Severus led them through what must have been a beautiful foyer, based on Alba’s stiffened posture, but Lily’s eyes could only stare dumbly at the shimmering marble floors.. Their perfect visit had already turned sour.
Lily heard her mother clearing her throat and glanced up to see who she could only presume was the infamous Eileen Prince. Eileen was rather beautiful, but she wore the same strange, unflattering clothes as Severus and her hair was a greasy mess, as if it hadn’t been washed in months. Lily had to restrain herself from wrinkling her nose in disgust.
“Missus Evans, oh and darling little Lily too, what a pleasure it is to have you here,” Eileen was polite enough, but her voice carried a certain undertone of mockery. “My sincerest apologies for my current state. I had completely forgotten about our meeting today. You are still welcome to join me for tea, of course.”
“Oh, it’s no problem at all, Miss Prince,” Alba crooned. “And please, you must call me Alba—all my friends do.”
“I’m sure they do, Missus Evans,” Eileen replied slyly, like a cat playing with its food, Lily noted.
Alba’s smile grew impossibly stiff. Lily, sensing the tension forming in her mother, chose that moment to act.
“Miss Prince, ma’am, pardon my forwardness, but I wanted to say that you have a lovely home,” Lily said softly, forcing as much sweetness into her voice as possible. “And might I add that the gallic roses by your door are impeccably cared for. The morning dew makes them sparkle just so. You obviously have a green thumb.”
The stunned silence in the room was enough for Lily to realize she had spoken out of turn. She risked a glance at her mother’s fingers, now digging into her arm, and knew it was best that she prepared herself for harsh scolding from Alba upon their return. Lily watched uncomfortably as her mother opened her mouth to apologize, but it was Eileen Prince who spoke first.
“Thank you, dear,” Eileen said, genuine interest warming her voice for the first time. “I’m surprised you could tell. I’ve just had them imported from France, so it’s been a lot of work getting them acclimated to the gloomy British weather, but I’m glad to see my effort has paid off.”
Alba’s grip on Lily’s arm immediately loosened, and Lily could feel the relief sinking into her bones. She had done well.
“In fact, why don’t I have Severus take you out to the garden to see my new dahlias, I’d love to hear the opinion of someone with your knowledge,” Eileen said. “Leave the boring “adult talk” to your mother and me. Children are meant to be children, after all.”
Lily looked to her mother for approval, finding it in the subtle nodding of her head.
“Shall we?” Severus asked, gesturing toward the patio door, his tone still as bored as before.
“Certainly,” Lily replied, following closely behind Severus. “Thank you for this kindness, Miss Prince.”
Eileen’s eyes crinkled around the corners, and an amused smile played at her lips.
“Go on now, Lily. We won’t chase after you.”
Smiling anxiously, Lily focused her eyes on the marble floors again, watching their patterns, flowing and connecting. Severus’ feet moved quickly, and his abrupt stop before the door led Lily to almost bump into him.
“Watch it,” he snarled. They were out of the earshot of the adults now.
Severus yanked the patio door open, the golden light of the afternoon shining through gaps of the frosted glass doors. The plants, so widely varied, grew as they wished, many overgrown past the confines of their large wooden boxes. There didn’t appear to be an order to the plants–Lily noted a flowering plant with purple petals next to a cactus-like creation–but each was labeled. But the names! Some she had heard, like dittany, but whatever was monkshood ? Mandrake ?
Lily didn’t think she had ever seen anything quite so nonsensically beautiful. Her own mother had reduced the value of gardening to a simple task to compliment the external appearance of the Evans home; it was the job of humble laborers, and so Lily had never been able to play in the gardens as she wished. But despite all the glory before her, one oddity niggled at her. Why were so many exotic plants able to grow in Britain’s infamous plant-killing climate?
“Se–How’d you get all these plants to grow?” Lily blushing furiously. How would she look, addressing the child of her mother’s obsessions by his first name, as if they were best friends? Whatever the neighborhood children said of the Snape family, she knew she at least had to win their favor.
Slam! Lily jumped as the patio door banged heavily. Severus strode towards her, each step purposeful and angry.
“You–Lily–shut up. I know how you talk about her. I KNOW HOW YOU TALK ABOUT MY MOTHER!”
Whatever euphoria Lily had felt from the view of the garden had dissipated. Her limbs felt frozen in place, as if a thick sack of mud had replaced the pleasant breeze from just moments before. Her mouth felt incredibly dry–not unlike when her mother yelled at her. She swallowed uncomfortably, knowing that she had seconds to respond before another barrage of verbal insults would assault her.
“Severus…please…” She flinched at her own weakness. Poor, little Lily Evans, who couldn’t even say a word.
“You know what they say about you, Lily?” Severus’ angry tone had softened to a whisper. A cunning smile played over his lips, not unlike a wolf stalking his prey. “They say you’re brainless. They say you couldn’t hold up a fight for a day. They say–”
A low, rumbling noise interrupted his words. Before them stood a large, black dog, with its teeth bared and haunches raised.
The mix of horror and unrest wrought by Severus’ words quickly made way for panic, her legs giving way under her, her senses becoming numb. Two hands tugged desperately at her sides, attempting to drag her away, but she couldn’t move. All she could feel was the deep growl of the dog before her, as it reverberated in her very bones.
And then it stopped.
She felt two hands that were shaking violently. And as she opened her eyes, she saw the black dog frozen, its eyes in a maniacal stare, teeth bared. Frozen?
“What did you do?!” Lily turned to look at Severus. He was looking at her. No, not just looking. It was something Lily didn’t know the name of, but if she had to come close, it was the way her mother and father looked at the cross at each Sunday church gathering.
“You’re magical.” It wasn’t a question.
“Magic?” Lily’s eyes widened impossibly more, her hands quivering. “What do you mean? Magic isn’t real. This can’t be happening. I don’t underst-”
A pair of hands grasped her own, forcing her breathing becoming more even; Severus was holding her hands. She breathed in harshly through her nose, attempting to steady herself with a shudder. Calm down, Lily. This is all some sort of practical joke. Her hands were still shaking.
“Severus, if this is some sort of joke to get back at me, I assure you it’s very funny,” Lily said shakily.
For the first time, Severus looked at her with genuine concern. He composed himself first. He needed to be the mature one here. How else could he introduce her to magic? Merlin , he had never met someone magical other than his mother.
“Lily, it’s okay,” Severus whispered gently. “I’m magical too. Look.”
Lily watched as Severus reached down for a seed, her eyes drawn to the glow in Severus’ palm. There, in his hand, a perfect, white petunia. Beautiful , Lily thought.
He smiled gently.
“Lily. You try.”
Without a word, Lily stretched her hand out for the flower. As soon as the seed made contact, the petals began to wave in and out, but at a much faster speed. The two children watched, astonished, as the petunia’s petals moved so quickly that it briefly lifted off of the taut skin of Lily’s palm.
Severus turned away, pretending to be preoccupied with the still-frozen dog. A muggle-born? With that level of magical skill? Eileen Prince had never outrightly stated it, but it was evident in her attitude that the muggle-borns often lacked intelligence, let alone innate magical skill. It wasn’t a sentiment lost in her own son’s attitudes.
Suddenly noting a lack in Severus’ reaction, Lily burst out of her reverie.
“Severus! Look!” All hints of Lily’s porcelain politeness had shattered, each word she uttered like a firework exploding from her chest. Her eyes were sparkling in the way they only did when a child was truly happy.
Severus’ heart ached.
But before either child could speak again, the patio door opened slowly.
“Lily, it’s time for you to go.” Eileen seemed uncomfortable, but still grinned at Lily’s enthusiasm. “You know, you’re welcome to come by anytime. Severus really only likes to spend time in the garden when I’ve got something cooking.”
“I’d love to,” exclaimed Lily. As her initial exhilaration slowly died down, a sense of calm, more muted contentment rose to replace it. As Eileen turned to head back, Lily leaned close to Severus.
“You have to tell me more!” Swallowing hard, Severus nodded his head; it was a movement so slight, so imperceptible, that there was a chance someone would miss it. From the smile that played on Lily’s lips, he knew she had seen.
During the walk back to the front door, Lily was finally able to pry her eyes from the ground, noting the crystalline chandelier that almost seemed to float and the many art pieces that decorated the walls of Snape manor. Various candles lined the halls, though no wax dripped to the floor. She watched the flames curl and twist, mesmerized by their movement, their unstopping dance. Her mother coughed gently.
Alba Evans’ expectant figure stood, lonely, at the end of the hallway. She wasn’t smiling anymore, hands clutching a black leather purse in a white-knuckled grip.
“Let’s go, Lily.” Alba Evans’ tone had lost its usual bite, and seemed almost pensive. “We’ve got to go on ahead now.”
Lily nodded once, and followed her mother out. She desperately craved to make eye contact with Severus, just once, just once to make sure he would tell her about the intricacies of this new world. Of magic.
She couldn’t. She couldn’t do anything with her mother around, and for the very first time, she sensed something might be very, very wrong with how her family interacted.
“Lily,” started Alba Evans. “Edward…”
She snapped her head reflexively in shock. Her brother’s name wasn’t one the family liked to bring up, and anytime it was, his inexplicable goodness , his charitable nature, were always brought up. God, if Lily were even one ounce like Edward the world would be a better place.
“Edward was just like you,” continued Alba, her eyes growing the slightest bit shiny. “He loved to garden, and because of that, he and Eileen Prince were good friends. I can’t imagine what they had to talk about, but it didn’t matter because I didn’t have to. ”
Here, she paused, and stared into Lily’s enraptured eyes.
“He was my spy, Lily.”
Lily felt her jaw drop. Is that what her mother wanted? For her to really and truly take on Edward’s role?
“Mother, is that what you’d like me to do too? To be just like Edward?”
“Goodness, you can be so slow sometimes Lily,” Alba said exasperatedly. “You can never be Edward. You are yourself, and that’s all you’ll ever be.”
She sighed, realizing the harshness of her words.
“Yes, Lily. I’d like for you to take on Edward’s role.”
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And at ten-years-old, this was Lily’s perpetual struggle; she had yet to commit fully to either world.