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Lily Evans (just_lily) wrote in silverage,

"Nearly nineteen," she protested, which was the most ridiculous of the points to quibble over. She was going to be telling people she was nineteen, at any rate, should any of them ask. It was just another month and week off, technically, if she hadn't been displaced, and what was a few weeks when everything else was so completely twisted up.

She couldn't honestly say she was completely surprised when he mentioned he was three years her senior. He had looked a little different, and his voice had been a little older. It was disturbing though, and he made her wonder -- what if James showed up, but he was thirty, or forty, or fifty? Or eleven? Or any age but the age she knew him?

This was a nightmare.

Her lips parted as she tried to find words -- and tried not to demand he tell her her future. She didn't think he'd feel right about doing it, and she wasn't going to push. If he volunteered, on the other hand, that was a completely different matter all together. "Have we won the war yet then?" She asked, even as she wondered if he'd consider answering that. She almost wasn't certain she wanted him to answer; if she knew they were in for another three years of war, maybe she wouldn't be in such a rush to stumble back in where she'd been taken from.

"This is queer," she decided. She also wondered then how old Severus was. Older than sixteen, at least, otherwise his reaction would have been a little more welcoming. She was half-tempted to write a note and stick it on the board, but she reasoned it would sit there, unanswered, and simply collect dust.

Not quite sure where to take the conversation from there, she decided to just let him answer the questions, and ... well, go from there.