InsaneJournal

This was stupid. This was idiotic. This was quite possibly one of the worst ideas he'd ever had. Of course, tonight seemed a prime time for idiotic ideas. First the plan with Augustus, then the discussion with Lily. He glanced around the work room, making sure everything was in a state that he could leave it for awhile. He had just finished locking it up and heading for his office when he heard a knock at the back door. His hair was slicked back, shirtsleeves rolled up past his elbows. Thankfully, he'd already taken off the work apron, but he still looked a man in the middle of his work when he cracked the door open slightly, wand at the ready.

Being greeted by a wand in one’s face late at night in a dark alley that smelled of rubbish was not the way Lily had planned to spend the last hours of her Saturday. At the sight of it, she instinctively reared back, just a little, hand automatically moving to her own wand when she caught herself and a brow dipped in annoyance. “Expecting unsavoury company, Severus?” she asked, forcing her tone to remain dry despite her rapid pulse.

"Trust no one," he said, dropping the wards with a silent flick, his words tinged with years of experience. He opened the door wider for her to come inside, offering a hand out for her cloak once the door was locked and warded once more. The last thing he needed was for one of the Death Eaters to drop by unannounced and see him entertaining Lily.

He hung her cloak on a peg and led the way to his office. "Tea? Or something stronger?"

For a moment, she was tempted to choose the latter given the circumstances of their meeting -- it would help. It would help significantly, she thought, if her instincts remained true and the dread that flowed sickly through her veins was an indicator. “Tea would be nice.”

As she followed him down the dark corridor to his office, she couldn’t help but let her gaze roam over her surroundings, but only the vague shapes of glass vials and cauldrons left impressions in her quick perusal. There was a distinctly different feeling to the shop at night than there was during the day -- empty, clinical, almost desolate. Still, Severus’s office was softly lit, a halo of defiant incandescence against the cold sterility of the rest of the premises. Funny, it hadn’t felt that way the first time she had been here.

"Milk or sugar?" he asked as he poured two cups. He had been tempted to dose the tea with something, but he couldn't bring himself to do that. Not even after all these years. He handed her a cup and took his own, taking a sip so she would know it was unadultured. It was blend he'd made himself and it soothed his nerves slightly, though it could not save him from his own foolishness.

“Just a splash of milk, please,” she said, sinking into one of the chairs and watching him wander about performing all the strangely domestic actions of tea service. Ah, but dynasties could end, governments could fall and empires crumble, but there would always be tea, wouldn’t there? Errant husbands could return and Death Eaters rise up. Lily frowned, lowered her gaze to the almost spartan existence that was Severus’s desk, until the tea was done and she brought the cup to her lips and quietly approved. Didn’t miss his deliberation, didn’t know if she ought to feel insulted or uneasy or dismayed to feel neither. Decided she might as well cut to the heart of the matter anyway. “You didn’t want to say it over the journals.”

"There's no way of trusting their security," Severus said, settling into the chair opposite Lily and sipping his tea. "What is this about, Lily? You amassing a list to give to the DMLE? You don't need my help for them to arrest my housemates once more."

“No. It’s,” she paused, needing to collect her thoughts and calm before she said something she’d regret. “It’s not about that. I’m sure we can all take an educated guess as to likely suspects, though without any proof there’s little the Aurors can do.” Which is why the Order had begun in the first place, really. “Still, still, you won’t answer me. Is that, in and of itself, an answer? Are we just going to repeat ourselves?” There was that day, long ago, when they were both younger and far more naive. And she had asked him these same questions, felt the same anger and fear and nausea. It wasn’t about the slur -- it wasn’t entirely about that -- it was about what she was losing before her very eyes, and, helpless to stop it, she had severed it herself. That’s what one did to a dying, toxic limb, wasn’t it? Even if it was painful, even if one had relied upon it so much, had -- “Haven’t we learned anything?”

Had they? In the years since school, oh yes, Severus had learned much. Learned the extent of cruelty men and women were capable. Learned how schoolyard loyalties and prejudices continued into the halls of the Ministry. "I've learned to protect myself, not to trust easily, lest I be betrayed or tortured," he answered matter of factly. He paused and took another sip. "Why should I trust you now? Once, I did. I trusted you with everything, but we have both lost our innocence, Lily. We are not those children anymore."

“Oh, you trusted me with everything, really.” And no, no she did not want to get dragged down into this, she really didn’t, but still found she couldn’t help herself. There were too many hurts and time had only seemed to compress them, not ease them. “You pushed me away first, Severus. Was it because I wasn’t good enough for you and your new school friends? Was it because my blood was not really that pure, not even by half. What was I supposed to do when my friend, my best friend in the whole world decided to join an organisation whose primary goals was to kill people like me? Conveniently overlook that while I invited him around for tea?”

"I told you things that I have never told anyone." Things about his home life when they were still both children lying in the grass near Spinner's End, when she was the light that kept him going, that made it possible for him to ensure his father. "You were more than good enough for me, Lily. You were all I ever wanted." Raw, honest, words that threatened to make his world come crashing down around him. All I still want, conveniently left unsaid. "I would have given it all up for you. All of them, with their knowledge and customs. All my career, for you. Is that what you want to hear?"

He set the tea cup carefully down on the table, no semblance of being out of control in the slightest. "I've made some mistakes, but the world is not so black and white as Gryffindors wish. Magic is not light or dark. Magic is magic and it is the person who uses it for good or evil. I couldn't be around you when you were around them." A long, deliberate pause in which to gather his thoughts, to formulate a plan. "Let me look into your mind, let me know I can trust you, and I'll answer your questions if you swear you will keep my secrets."

Her initial instinct flared up: a clear, offended NO! The very thought of letting Severus, anyone, into her mind felt like such a gross violation of her sense of self. From a small home filled with parents and a shared bedroom with her sister to a large castle filled with hundreds of students and a dormitory she shared with three other girls to an admittedly large ancient family estate still yet shared with house elves, talking portraits, and, not least of which, a rambunctious child she raised on her own and had demanded nearly all of her attention, Lily did not often have the space and time simply to be herself. It was her internal world which buoyed her, the one thing still left that was her own. And yet here Severus was, asking for it too.

Only, she was still left a bit reeling from his words. She couldn’t deny she knew in the way girls knew she’d at least been aware of his affections, up until at least he had called her a mudblood to her face, nor his earnestness in the way he, years later, sought her forgiveness but was still condemned by her anyway when he admitted his Death Eater associations. But these things had never been given stark, doubtless voice now and could not be taken back or at least muddied. Severus did not often make himself so vulnerable, and possibly the last time he had, she had been there too.

This is Severus. He’s my best friend, she had declared loudly to the neighbourhood children, no more than a proud child of eight herself. And then she had punched anyone in the face, or at least had kicked their shins hard, who dared to sneer in contempt. She had told him things too, the pressures of expectation from her parents, how hurt she felt by her sister’s disgust of her -- though the life she lived had been significantly more charmed, so she had been content to listen, to encourage, to say, Don’t worry, Sev, when we grow up, we’ll be witches and wizards and we’ll be better than them all. Severus and Lily against the world, had been their pact.

She wanted to trust him again, but she had to trust.

“...fine,” she said before she could change her mind.

Severus took her hand in his, drew his wand and audibly cast "Legilmens." No need to let her know he didn't need a wand or a voice to use it. He hadn't been expecting this much trust from her so easily. But without much effort, he was tumbling into the depths of Lily's mind.

It was almost a monumental task to keep her gaze level with Severus’s, to meet and hold his dark, depthless eyes. She wanted to imagine she could feel him rooting around the furthest corners of her mind like a niggling insect, but she couldn’t -- he, at least, would do this circumspectly. What he looked for, though, she couldn’t say, and the unknown quantity of that made her nervous. Did he see things she didn’t even know herself? The mind and all of its ridiculous ways it hid truths from one’s self. There would be the obvious things, the things that made her uncomfortable for anyone to know, the things she had only recently allowed James to know only very summarily--

Years upon years of that loneliness. Abandonment. Others could assure her James was a fool for leaving her like that, but it couldn’t change the growing sense of self doubt he had found something left wanting within her or she had made the wrong choice and could only suffer for it now. How sometimes she wondered what would happen if she simply set the whole Potter estate on fire, took Harry and packed it up for parts unknown, names changed, histories washed clean. She could pick something fun to call herself -- Ms Betsy Davis, and her son, Frank Martin, had by some famous crime lord. She could work in a nightclub in Shanghai or Buenos Aires, the ginger haired girl who always wore the sunflower in her hair. Silly, stupid fantasies.

Only now, he was back, full of promise and commitment. There was a flush of zeal in his features again. However terrible this war, its dreaded prospects and countless victims, James Potter lived for the battle. She had once told him, You do not know who you are when you’re not fighting something. He was almost how she remembered him: a little more mature, a little more humble, still engaged, a man committed to doing good, who would throw himself on the front lines, half because he was stupidly, courageously Gryffindor brave in wanting to protect others and half because he simply loved being there. There was all of that, for now, and Lily refused to think about after, what happened, if, Merlin help them, they both managed to come through this alive, if that was it again and gradually, day by day, she’d see the light in those eyes fade and the listlessness set in and then one day, he’d simply be gone. Again. Despite assurances and this renewed commitment now, she still couldn’t trust James Potter when he said it wouldn’t happen again.

The Order itself, reformed, a bit more patchwork than before. Dumbledore, for all of his significant faults and utilitarian philosophies, had been the consummate chess master who had held them together. He had the broadest view of the board and its players, they had all been the pieces who had moved as directed and had so very rarely questioned their orders. Now, though, now came somewhat more equitable, democratic leadership. Fabian wasn’t, couldn’t be, even a tenth the wizard Dumbledore was in terms of sheer power, wisdom and insight. It was messier but there were assurances in place now that they wouldn’t be sending each other off to Azkaban. There was still the commitment to stop all of this from happening again, just like before. They were all still willing to die for it.

So much so, she’d reconnect with an old, longstanding bruise from the past: the oldest, the first, friend. It may have started from a very practical place: Severus had been at the very least associated with known Death Eaters. He was very clever. She had no doubts he would have cultivated and, more importantly, maintained those connections himself because Severus was, above all, a survivor. She hadn’t been willing to talk to him before, but maybe, maybe now… and that first glimpse, after all those years, had hurt far more than she had anticipated. She couldn’t help playing that useless and despairing game of what if?, starting at present, working backwards. What if she had forgiven him anyways, on that last day they had fought? Inspite of his associations, if she had compromised some part of herself to do so? What if she had punched him in the face when he had called her a mudblood and demanded he take it back instead of going cold, cutting him off for several years yet? What if she had worked up some of that infamous Gryffindor courage to have said, earlier that year, that James Potter sod won’t leave me alone and I don’t like him, Sev, because I think I like you--?

Severus did not notice time passing while he worked, sifting through the images, thoughts and emotions in Lily's head. He passed through them carefully, as though his long fingers were delicately skimming over the keys of a piano. He did his best not to disturb. This was the sort of care he had not usually taken when in Voldemort's service. This was gentle, loving almost, as though paging through a favourite book. The image of the ginger haired girl with the sunflower in her hair, he filed away to remember, one that would bring him comfort in dark days ahead. But it was the uncertainty at the end that gave him hope, a fool's hope. But if she was thinking about the what ifs, then perhaps he had a chance. His feelings for her were complicated. Love and adoration in the past, tinged more recently with pain and betrayal that had festered since Hogwarts. For better or worse, it was enough that he wanted to trust her.

Deftly and gently, he withdrew from her mind, squeezed her hand and stood, heading to a cupboard and returning with a piece of dark chocolate which he set on the edge of her saucer.

"I trust you." The words soft and kind, recalling the young boy who had told her all he knew of the wizarding world. "But I don't trust them. Especially Black and Potter."

Lily blinked several times, battling against the dryness of her eyes. It took a moment to re-orient herself with the world again and shake off the last vestiges of fugue she had fallen into while letting Severus in. And now after all had been said and done, she didn’t know how she felt, warily watched Severus move as if she could divine any clues as to what he had found. Perhaps mercifully, he revealed nothing, and the words he said next were warm and reassuring. Whatever test there had been, she had passed.

She stared at the chocolate, then picked it up and bit into a corner. Perhaps she should have gone with the something stronger after all. “Fair.”

Severus returned to his seat, watching her with a look that betrayed little but was full of fondness. "I am willing to uphold my end, and answer your questions, but I would like your assurance that you will not tell them, or the Order. They will not give me a chance."

She’d have protested that -- there were good people in the Order, though open-mindedness came in varying degrees -- but with Sirius and James playing such large voices, the rest may never get to that point. This, then, like the sunflowers, like the chocolates, would stay between them. She didn’t necessarily like secrets, but Severus was right in that they were older and wiser now. It wasn’t so black and white.

“I won’t tell the Order about you. Any incidental information you say, though, that would prove helpful to us, would have to be passed on and acted upon, if possible, in all good conscience. I promise to keep you completely free of it though, and to never jeopardise your safety or well-being.” At least, not intentionally, she hoped. “I would never do that anyway.”

Severus watched her in silence, trying to judge her words and intents. She was speaking the truth. "I took the mark in seventh year. It afforded the chance for knowledge and opportunities to further my research. And there were few other avenues open to me."

They had all been stupid children then, but their decisions had defined their lives. "I was not involved in the attack on the Wizengamot and I knew nothing about it. I put no value on blood purity, nor have I ever. It is about survival for me. And I would just as soon have this over so I can go back to my research and my life."

She closed her eyes against the confirmed admission. It was one thing to speculate, it was another to know for certain. How could you, she wanted to yell at him. Research over hundreds of lives? It still made a strong thread of anger course through her. But, it was in the past, wasn’t it? What was done was done and nothing, not her useless anger for what could have been, would change it. “Had you ever....killed anyone?”

Severus paused and with a silent grace, got to his feet and moved towards a cupboard, activating a hidden lock before pulling out a simple decanter of Amber liquid, pouring two glasses and returning. He passed one to Lily.

"When it could not be avoided." He was not proud of it, no, and his eyes reflected both shame and the knowledge that he would have to live with this for his entire life. "I take no pleasure in it. I avoid it when at all possible. I have made many mistakes, Lily, but it is not an easy world to survive in for a halfblood in Slytherin."

She nodded, expected as much, really. The amber filled glass suddenly took up her attention. She immediately took it and downed its contents in one go, intent upon its burn all the way down her throat, pooling as blossoming heat in her belly. It was probably too good to have done that, knowing Severus, but at the moment, she hardly cared. “They’re starting again, though. Have they...asked...or assumed, you’ll come back?”

"Threatened." One word softly spoken. He took a long slow sip of the brandy and watched her, hoping she wouldn't leave.

“Why don’t you....” she shook her head. “So you’ll...you’ll go back, because you have to. You’ll do what they tell you to do.”

"I've told them what they want to hear," Severus said quietly, raising an eyebrow, silently asking if she wanted a refill on her drink. "But they do not have my loyalty and I will avoid what I can."

In response she pushed her empty glass towards him. “How far does it go, Severus? We have to stop this, before it can become worse.” Last time, Voldemort had been a formidable opponent, so much so that it felled the great Albus Dumbledore himself. It should, theoretically be easier now -- truly great wizards only happened once in a lifetime, or so she desperately wanted to believe. Whoever or whatever Lady Noir was, Lily certainly didn’t get the feeling she was anything remotely approaching great.

"A bunch of children who think they know what they want but really just need their ears boxed," Severus retorted wryly, refilling Lily's glass. "Some of the old guard. Some are not invested in the cause, but the consequences are dire. Take Lestrange. That was most certainly done by one of the death eaters."

“So not all Death Eaters are unified under the great cause.” The second glass was picked up, and swirled contemplatively. This time, she took it slower, savoured it. “Are they following Lady Noir’s command like Macnair?”

"They are far from unified," Severus admitted. "Lady Noir is a curiosity to the old guard, not much more. She is nothing like He was. Plenty are suspicious of her."

“Well that’s one small relief. I would have found it difficult to believe Death Eaters would have accepted a downgrade of their tactics from torture and murder to a non-lethal poison and roses.” So the Death Eaters were still a scattered morass of conflicting values. That was good. The lack of cohesion, of a leader, meant they couldn’t truly mobilise, at least not yet. “Sirius and James want to try and trap Lady Noir.”

"So do many of the Death Eaters. They want her unmasked, to know who they're dealing with." Severus watched her, the way she sat so gracefully in the chair, the curve of her fingers around the brandy glass. That Sirius and James were still foolish and headstrong did not surprise him. "She may be an ally or a threat. No one knows yet which way it'll go. Some want her to take up the mantel, but there may be jostling for power."

“Suffice to say: she’s no Voldemort. She isn’t even a Bellatrix.” In one smooth motion, she finished the last of her glass, felt a loose unfurling within her limbs (how long had it been since she had more than a glass of wine here and there?) and smiled at Severus, open, full, before frowning again and glancing away. “It’s late. I should go.”

"Sometimes I think Bellatrix was worse," Severus admitted, a small hint as to what he had seen and suffered over the years of the last war, consequences of his actions.

"Lily-" He began, wanting to keep her here, at least for a moment. "You know I regret it, don't you? Calling you a-" He waved his hand, indicating the word he had avoided since that fateful afternoon at Hogwarts. "I am still incredibly sorry. Can you ever forgive me for being a stupid little boy who did stupid, idiotic things when in love with a beautiful girl?"

“I know,” she said quietly. “I think I’ve known for awhile but by the time I really had, it was too late.” The lines had been drawn, she had already been dating James for several months -- had been to his parents’ over Christmas break. It was, by all accounts, a Serious Relationship then. “For whatever it’s worth now, though: yes, yes I forgive you.”

"It is worth more than you know." He took her hand and brought it to his lips; a brief moment of tenderness for the girl who had stolen his heart when they were but mere children. He still loved here, but there was so much pain. She may have forgiven him for calling her a mudblood, but he was unsure if she'd ever be able to forgive him for the mark upon his arm or what he had done in order to stay alive. Perhaps, if the plans he and Augustus were making came to fruition, he would not have to worry about this much more.

"Lily," he began once more, not releasing her hand yet. "I want you to know you can trust me. I will do whatever I can to protect you."

It might have been a tender gesture, but all the feeling and intimacy wrapped up in the act skirted the lines of--she shied away from the thought. Her heart already thudded painfully in her chest and had Severus not held her hand so closely, it would tremble. “Yes, but who will protect you?”

The question seemed so absurd to him in that moment. He released her hand gently, setting it back on her lap. He sat back in his chair and let his eyes drop. "Do not worry about me."

“I worry,” she said anyway. “You’re still my first best friend. My…” Where that thought would have lead, she didn’t know. It trailed off and she found she didn’t have the voice to encompass the chaotic churn of thoughts in her mind. Instead, she stood up and, after a moment, bent back down to kiss his cheek before making her quiet exit from his office.