At Black Manor

Note: Blue Artemis, thank you so much for the beta!

The picture "Winter Night" I used in this chapter was created by the awesome Lilyhbp.

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"What do you think you're doing, gentlemen?"

James and Sirius froze, then quickly put their wands into their pockets. The corpulent policeman was approaching them hastily, wiping the sweat off his forehead. He drew himself up in front of them in a menacing posture.

"No fireworks in the park! It's written on the placard! No fireworks in the park!"

Lily suppressed a chuckle. To conceal her wide smile, she bent over the pram and checked that Harry was still carefully wrapped in a little duvet. Remus was standing a few steps further, watching them with a friendly indulgence, as though he were wondering how they would settle the conflict this time.

"Strictly speaking, there were no fireworks," Sirius objected with a feigned gravity. "Were there, Prongs?"

"Of course not!" cried James, simulating indignation. "It was just a bunch of sparks! In Latin, it's called fascis scin--"

"You fancy yourself very funny, don't you?" the policeman barked. "Well, I won't need Latin to teach you a good lesson! Your papers!"

Sirius made a confused grimace. "Papers? I have only a piece of parchment with me. Would it be enough?"

"You don't seem to believe us, sir," James added amiably, taking his wand out. "But I assure you, we just made a few sparks! Let me show you. One, two, three!"

A bundle of blue sparks flew from his wand at the very nose of the obese man, who started. With a burst of laughter, the two young men ran to hide themselves behind a row of trees, leaving Lily and Remus – somewhat scandalized, but unable to hide their amusement – there to appease the policeman.

Lily had never been so happy. She tilted her head back, looking at the pure sky. The wind was rustling in the treetops, and yellow and red leaves were falling in a multicolored rain, forming a soft carpet at their feet. They seemed almost white in the sunshine. Like snow.

She blinked. There were no trees. She was staring at the pale winter night sky. The wind was howling in the high vaults of the galleries surrounding the court. Large snowflakes were whirling around her in a frenzied dance, and she had the impression that each one of them was biting her skin. She fastened her airy red robe, but made no other movement. In some way, the pain was liberating. It purified her.

Blankly, she looked at the spacious surface of the court, buried under deep layers of snow. How would it be to plunge into one of the snowdrifts, like in a soft bed, and sleep forever, with no one around but the singing wind? White, the colour of the innocence – of the lily flower. Could the snow purge her spirit after all she had suffered?

Her bare feet stepped on the snow. Strange, she could believe she was walking on red-hot charcoal. Were the fire and the ice made of the same essence, after all? Or perhaps her plea had just been answered, and the white substance had been enchanted to purify her. She saw her destination: there, the soft silky drift. She fell rather than dropped on the mound of snow. The sensation was torturing, but she had to withstand it. It was her punishment for... something she had done. Or had not done. She could not tell at this moment. She was so tired.

At last, the pain was slowly vanishing. She had been forgiven. The wind was singing a quiet lullaby. She smiled lightly, succumbing to the peaceful drowse.

Suddenly, two strong arms yanked her from her refuge. They draped a cloak over her and then carried her away from the wind, from the snowy symphony. She wanted to protest, but had no force to do so.

After a while, she was laid under a pile of blankets. To her astonishment, she was shivering. A warm body entered in contact with hers. Instinctively, she leaned into the embrace and almost sighed in relief. Feeling gentle kisses on her hair, she opened her eyes, only to see the Dark Mark flash in front of her face. Promptly, she closed them again, repressing her tears.

***

The first thing Lily remembered after Apparating to Black Manor in Severus' arms was the vibration of magic around her neck. Her collar had been removed, and Snape's wand was swishing in the air in a series of complicated spells. She was now wearing a jade on a delicate silver chain.

"Much better," he had smiled. "It matches exactly your eye colour. You can go anywhere in the house, including the gardens. But first, get some rest."

As soon as Lily had recovered, she left her quarters to walk in the other parts of the manor. Incapable, with her mind lost in reverie, of noticing anything she was seeing, she was wandering in the rooms and the corridors like a red ghost. It seemed she had been condemned to wear red until the end of her days. Naturally, Severus had not failed to assure her she was allowed to wear nothing when they were alone. Her life was now about paying for her crimes. For being a Gryffindor, for being a Muggle-born. For having given birth to a child with James' traits.

Harry... She had constantly the feeling she could hear her baby's sweet laughter from the corners of the corridors. Sometimes, there were echoes of James' calls or of Remus' and Sirius' exclamations. She followed the source of the voices, unable to reach it, then always found herself in unknown chambers, confused and frustrated. Once, she had glimpsed a little knife put on a writing table. It was used to cut parchment. She had grasped it febrilely, but at the same moment, it had flown from her hand. A little female house-elf was standing behind her, an embarrassed look on her face. She had stuttered out excuses, explaining that she had been commanded to follow Lily everywhere in order to prevent her from harming herself.

There were hardly any nights when she did not suffer from nightmares. Regularly, she woke up in a cold sweat, her mind full of the visions of a black dog killing a stag in a cage flooded with blood. Then Severus' arms closed around her and pulled her back on the pillows. He would stroke her until she fell asleep again.

Two weeks after their arrival, he had left her alone all day ("I'm sorry, my sweet, I have to go to Lestrange's wedding. I'm sure you wouldn't enjoy it. Don't worry, I'll be back in the morning."). That night, she had woken up shuddering. In her dream, she had been encircled by a crowd of masked dark silhouettes, with the Dark Lord laughing demonically. Wrapped in a blanket, she had lain awake until the sunrise. Despite her relief to have avoided Snape's company for once, she felt helpless without him. It was a devastating feeling.

***

The voices were getting closer, more distinct than usual. As Lily followed them, they changed fluidly. It was no longer the Marauders' call, but persistent cries. She quickened her pace, nearly running after the wailing creatures. They were yelling, no, screaming with all the force of their lungs, as if submitted to Cruciatus. She spotted the door the sounds were coming from and burst inside, panting for breath.

Severus raised his head from the voluminous book he was consulting, and which was tirelessly trying to close under his hands. He snapped it shut, and the screams stopped immediately.

"Lily," he breathed, visibly pleased.

She sighed and dropped on the nearest couch, exhausted. She heard his robes billow in the air as he approached to sit beside her. Suddenly, she felt she could not take it any more.

"I can't live like this, Severus," she confessed, much to her own surprise.

He pulled her on his lap, cradling her like a child. She waited for words of comfort, but none came.

"Please, let me die," she muttered against his shoulder.

"You know I won't."

She sighed again. "I'm going mad." Could he not see it?

"No, Lily, it's just a difficult period for you. It's inevitable, but it will pass. You will be happy again."

This was a blasphemy. A particularly impertinent one.

"I'll make sure you will," he affirmed. "I'll protect you. I'll give you everything you want. All you have to do is to give in to me."

In other words, she had to try to love him in spite of the fact that he had engineered her husband's and her friends' death and that he served as her son's murderer. If she were ever to do so, she would deserve to be publicly lapidated, and her name to be forever struck out from history.

Snape looked at her attentively. "That's not what I am trying to say, my love. You must not feel ashamed to accept your fate. It's the only reasonable thing to do."

Who cared about being "reasonable?"

"How can I accept it if you treat me like an object?" she asked coldly. "Like some kind of property."

"But you are my property, Lily," he replied gently, as though he were explaining an elementary spell to a child. "You always were. You just didn't know it."

Had she not been so desperate, she would have wondered how it was possible for a man to be so twisted.

"I love you, Lily," he whispered, clasping her in his arms. "More than you can imagine. I love your name. So pure and melodious. I love your skin. It's soft and fair like your entire personality. I love your fragrant hair, your lovely lips, your eyes. So Slytherinesque by their colour, so Gryffindorish by their expression. So unadapted to Occlumency. You can't know how intoxicating their innocence is."

No, but the pressure she could feel against her thigh made it quite clear. His hand moved over her chest. Unwilling to listen to a litany about how arousing the other parts of her body were, Lily tried to lift herself, and her hand came across something solid in the folds of his robe. His wand. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized it could be her chance to put an end to her pitiful situation.

In a quick, feverish movement, she took it out of his pocket and cast the Full Body-Bind Curse nonverbally. Nothing happened. Snape's hand did not stop fondling her breasts, and he looked at her with an expression which resembled curiosity. She tried again, with more energy and insistence, and felt a strange pulsation around her neck. Her necklace! It had been enchanted both to restrain her magic and to prevent her from escaping from the manor.

Severus nodded. "Yes. It's a pity you were taking me for a fool."

He put his wand back into his pocket and embraced her as if nothing had happened. She wanted to cry in frustration.

"There were times when you admired my magic," she reminded him with sadness, her head on his shoulder again. "And not my body."

"True," he admitted. "But you can't use magic any more. It's for your own sake, my love. You are a M... Muggle-born."

Why did it still hurt?

"I can't change your social status," he stated. "It would have been different if you had married me. But you didn't."

Of course. Everything was her fault.

"What would your precious Malfoy and your dearest Death Eaters say if you married a Mudblood?" she asked sarcastically.

The thought seemed to amuse him. "They would be a bit repulsed, I guess. But despite the nonsense the Order used to disseminate about us, we stand by each other. If it can benefit us, we are able to tolerate certain divergences from the rules. And Lucius is my best friend."

"Why?" The friendship between two wizards of such different origins and characters – though she was beginning to doubt they were really that different – was too bizarre not to arouse curiosity.

"That's an interesting question. He has always supported me. He introduced me to the Dark Lord, who appreciated my abilities for what they were and gave me the chance to prove myself. He didn't spurn my services, like Dumbledore did. Thanks to Lucius, I could develop my knowledge and gain access to power. He has also overlooked the fact I wasn't a pure-blood, which is not easy for a Malfoy. And he has never betrayed me."

Here they were again.

"He has even agreed to be the godfather of our children," he added contentedly.

"What?" She was not expecting this. Children? Their children?

No, she could not take it any more. She slid down from the couch and ran out. A moment later, screams resounded again, which meant he had returned to his book.

***

In her indignation, Lily was unaware of the direction she had taken, and she entered the little door leading to the kitchen without noticing the surprised group of house-elves, who rapidly abandoned their task. They seated her enthusiastically at a small table and offered her tea with sweets. She had eaten nothing since her capture, thus being forced to drink a glass of nutritive potion every evening, and at first, she wanted to decline. However, their radiant expressions touched her, and to not upset them, she took a small cup of tea with a biscuit. It was stunning how quickly she had forgotten the taste of the food. She found it insipid and could not help feeling sick. Nonetheless, she thanked the elves and promised them she would soon come again.

To her surprise, one of the female elves she had seen in the kitchen Apparated to her chambers in the evening. She had brought a tray with a light dinner and stayed to entertain Lily during her meal. She launched into a description of the different members of the House of Black and the way they treated their servants. The manor had at first been supposed to belong to Sirius, but had been inherited by Regulus when the elder son had fallen out with his family. It was the only thing Lily retained while eating her vegetable soup reluctantly. It made sense. She was sure Snape would never have set his eyes on such a residence, had it not been a part of Sirius' inheritance.

The elf returned in the morning, then at noon. Manifestly, Severus had been informed of her visit to the kitchen and had assumed it was a way to accustom her to the food again. He joined her in the evening. They dined in silence, with Lily trying to ignore his presence, his dark eyes boring into hers. No water had been offered to her, and the small amount of wine she had drunk went to her head. She could not tell when he had changed his place, but before she knew it, he was sitting beside her. He dipped his fingers in honey and rubbed her lips with the gold liquid before pulling her into a kiss. Passively, she submitted herself to him, as she did every night. He gently pulled her robe off her shoulders, pouring more honey on her torso, and laid her on the carpet to taste her sweetened skin. She succumbed to the pleasure his adept hands and lips were arousing in her, opening up to his touch. And she came... with James' name on her lips.

Severus' rage was almost tangible in the eruption of magic in the air. The small fire flickering in the hearth swelled dangerously, and the flames spread onto the curtains. But Lily barely noticed the accident. The ferocity of Severus' stare had paralyzed her. His mask of composure had slid off, and she saw the Death Eater's nature in all its monstrosity. His eyes, furious and merciless, were burning with a dark fire. His hands were clasping her arms with an inhuman force, his nails deeply sunk into her skin. It was the look of a murderous, despotic creature. Hypnotized by the sight, she gazed back, trembling with fear. It looked as though he were going to attack her, to strangle her to death. But he withdrew.

He rose, grasped his wand and extinguished the fire with an angry movement that made the curtains fall in shreds. Then he left. Lily pulled her robe around her and cuddled up against the wall, massaging her arms, where his nails had left bloody marks. The manor quaked in a rapid succession of intense shocks, and bright green light inundated the chambers. She curled up even more, but the silence set in again. It lasted all night.

***

In the morning, Lily came to the Eastern Wing, where she knew Snape lingered most of the time, brewing or working on new spells. She found him writing a letter in a smaller room. He looked up at her, and she saw he was already fully in control of himself.

"Good morning, Lily," he said casually. "I'm afraid the breakfast isn't ready yet. We'll have to wait a few moments. Meanwhile, you can read if you wish."

He pointed at the pile of books on the table. She sat down and watched him finish his letter, which he handed to an owl with a strict instruction, "To Malfoy Manor."

"Why should we wait?" she asked timidly.

He glanced at her and opened a large volume. "I've asked Lucius to lend me several elves until I get some new ones. They should be here in a half an hour."

Lily's heart sank. He had massacred the house-elves. All because of her absurd declaration. He knew it had not been intentional, but this had only increased his fury. She felt faintness.

"I'm... not hungry," she mumbled, standing up.

"Stay where you are."

She dropped on her chair again. They sat in silence until a loud crack resounded through the room, indicating the Apparition of a group of house-elves. Snape barely raised his eyes from the book.

"Clean the kitchen and prepare breakfast."

Lily forced herself to take a thin slice of bread with a gulp of tea, then ran away precipitously. She spent hours standing at the window in one of her chambers, watching the snow-covered hills and the frozen lake. She could see nothing of it.

***

Malfoy came later that evening. Lily heard his arrogant voice carrying from the largest hall. She looked over the doorstep and saw him sitting opposite Snape by the fireplace, his walking stick in one hand, a glass of Firewhisky in the other.

"The wizarding community needs dynamic reforms," he was saying importantly. "Once we have disposed of the Mudbloods, we'll have to scout out and arrest the blood traitors. My father has always claimed they are the most dangerous part of the society, and that Muggle-lover Dumbledore and the mess he created in the hierarchy are the best example of it. Father has prepared a complete and structured political program for the next year. If, with these preparations, he doesn't win the elections, it will be the greatest scandal in the Malfoy House since 1799. But I'm certain that toad Umbridge has not the slightest chance against him."

He took a sip of his drink and continued, "Honestly, the pure-blood families are no longer what they used to be. Look at the Blacks. I dare say Narcissa is the only respectable Black of her generation. Sirius was a renegade, Regulus was odd, Andromeda was a blood traitor and Bella is a degenerate. And the others? The Crabbes and the Goyles are idiots, the Parkinsons are deranged, the Flints and the Bulstrodes are brutes, the Macmillans and the Weasleys are dunglickers. Fortunately, I don't have to count the Potters nor the Longbottoms any more. It makes almost the half of pure-bloods! Oh, and the Lestranges! The Lestranges, Severus! Such wimps! You should have seen the way Rodolphus was nodding at everything Bella said when she came to grant us her stupid advice!"

"You couldn't expect Bella's husband to be particularly virile, Lucius."

"I'm sick of them, Severus! Why do I have to have such relatives?"

Disgusted, Lily was going to pass by when Snape called her. She hesitated.

"Come in, Lily. You can listen to us here."

He was extending an arm. Feeling Malfoy's dismissive look on her, she obeyed and regretted it instantly, as Severus pulled her swiftly on his knees and ran his hands over her body. She wriggled, her embarrassed face as red as her robe. He could not do this. He had already had his revenge. He could have it again later, anytime. But please, not in front of Malfoy!

"What are you doing?" she whispered to him, but he put a finger on her lips.

"Shhh," he murmured in her ear before nibbling her earlobe lightly. "You were saying, Lucius?"

Malfoy snorted and changed the subject abruptly. "Ahem... So you do agree to organize the next party here?"

"Yes," Severus replied, leaving sucking kisses down Lily's neck while his hand was sliding to her center despite her attempts to stop it. "But don't expect me to install any fluffy Christmas decorations."

"Narcissa loves the little reindeers of fire," Malfoy commented dreamily, then shook his head as to wake up. "I mean, no problem."

"Excellent," Snape purred, more to Lily than to his friend. He was already fully aroused.

The scene was obviously starting to affect Lucius. He took another sip of Firewhisky, watching them curiously, his fingers kneading his walking stick.

"How are the potions going?" he asked with a conspiratorial wink.

Severus let out a throaty laughter and cupped her breasts through the light fabric. "Splendidly..."

"Stop it!" Lily protested in a whisper. For all response, he sank his teeth into her shoulder.

Malfoy closed his hands on his cane, visibly fighting the urge to touch himself.

"Hmm... Lucius, would you mind if I..."

"No, not at all."

Unhurriedly, Severus unfastened his trousers and pleasured himself, ejaculating on the carpet. Panting heavily, he grinned at the fascinated Lucius. "Feel better now?"

"Merlin." Malfoy lifted himself uneasily in his armchair. "I think I'll go."

"Good night, Lucius."

He had molested her to arouse Malfoy? To comfort him? Incredulous, Lily watched the blond wizard reach for a branded leather pouch and take carefully a handful of Floo powder out of it, which he threw into the fireplace.

"You know," he said jokingly, turning once more to Snape, "you should think of sending some photos to the redaction of The Insatiable Chimaera. It would be even better with the collar. We could call it 'The new headmas--'"

"Just go, Lucius."

With a chuckle, Malfoy disappeared in the emerald flames.

Lily turned slowly to Severus. This was beyond all limits. Boiling with rage, she smacked him with all the force she could muster. To her fury, a lazy smile made his way across his face.

"At last."

He rose from his seat and dropped on the ground, pinning her beneath him. He took her quickly, forcefully, but took care to give her pleasure.

When it was over, she felt more dejected than before. The feeling was so intense that she had no force to cry. She stared at the high ceiling decorated with the emblems of the Black family, at the ornate font of their motto, Toujours Pur.

"Please, never do this again," she begged.

He stroked her lightly. "I won't."

They lay silently for a long time. She was starting to relax in his embrace and to plunge into slumber when he added into her ear, his voice barely louder than a whisper, "But don't you ever dare mention his name again."

***

The white surface of the lake was shining in the sunlight. In the Muggle world, the hills would be scaled by children, and young skaters would be crossing the ice. Here, the landscape was deserted, but it still was beautiful. The fresh air of the morning was certainly delicious. The fresh air...

A soft pop indicated to Lily a house-elf had Apparated with her breakfast. She glanced at him as he put the tray down on the table. It was a little creature with globular eyes similar to two tennis balls. She had already seen him once. Dobby, that was his name. She remembered him being mistreated by Malfoy during the celebration. In some way, their conditions were alike. Even though his magical abilities had been preserved, he was not allowed to use them freely. There was nothing he could do freely.

"Thank you, Dobby," she uttered with melancholy.

The elf's eyes popped in surprise. For a minute, he gazed at her, unable to speak. Then, to her horror, he burst into tears.

"Never has a wizard thanked Dobby," he repeated again and again, sobbing inconsolably, then punching himself with his little fist. Apparently, Malfoy had forbidden his elves to talk to her.

Dobby Disapparated with a deep bow. When she returned to the room later, she found a vase full of lilies on the table. With an absent look, she stroked the flowers, and a strange, half-forgotten feeling of hope was starting to rise in her chest.

The elf returned at noon with a very full lunch tray and another bunch of lilies. He presented it to her with enthusiastic jumps, then left to let her eat calmly. Lily made an effort to finish all the meals, thinking feverishly. Could Dobby help her? Would he disobey his master's order and bring her a weapon she could use against herself?

When he came to take the tray away with the zealous question "Is there anything else Dobby can do for Mistress Lily?", she took a breath, ready to formulate her wish. Then her look fell on his small hands, and the words died on her lips. His arms, his palms, everything was covered with scars. The warmth she had felt bloom in her chest froze.

"N-no, Dobby. Just tea, please. Thank you."

She sat there for an hour, staring at her cup. She did not regret her decision. If she condemned to torture or death the only creature who had been kind to her, she would be worse than the Death Eaters. She would rather suffer.

At this thought, something indefinite moved inside her. It was so much easier to suffer for someone.

***

"What is that supposed to be?" Severus frowned at the Christmas tree towering in one of her rooms. It was decorated with festoons of crystal lilies with a luminous glass firefly inside each one of the flowers.

Lily did not reply. She hoped Dobby was already back at Malfoy Manor. He might be mistreated there, but his master did not kill his servants out of jealousy.

"It's actually tasteless. But the intention was touching, no doubt," Snape stated suspiciously.

"If you are jealous of a house-elf, then I feel sorry for you."

This seemed to cool him down. He turned away from the tree and sat on the couch she was lying on. As she had suspected, he had come to offer her a Christmas present.

"Lily... is there anything you wish? Anything you know I would give you?"

She had thought about it. There was only one thing that could relieve her. Only one that could give her a positive memory. And if she had one happy memory, she would find enough courage to suffer everything that was yet to come. It would be enough to illuminate her life, which, hopefully, would be short.

"I want to see my sister."

For the first time, she saw Snape completely taken aback.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I want to see my sister."

He was staring at her, and she discerned in his eyes a familiar glint, which expressed jealousy. For Merlin's sake.

"Your sister," he repeated, expressionless.

"Petunia Dursley. 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey."

Another glint.

"Why do you want to see her?"

"Because she is my sister. She is the only family I have."

A dark silence. She should have chosen her words more carefully, but she did not care any more.

"A sister who despises you?" Severus asked scornfully. "A sister who pretends you don't exist? A sister who thinks of you as some sort of anomaly? A sister..."

"YES!"

Lily sat up brusquely, facing him. Until now, she had not realized how weary she was. One more word from him, and she would explode.

"I need to see her, Severus. If I mean anything to you, do it for me. I promise I'll never ask you anything again."

He contemplated her for a few moments. Then he slowly extended his hand and removed a stray auburn lock from her face.

"Very well, Lily," he said finally, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "I'll bring her here for an hour or two. But you must understand that I'll have to Obliviate her before sending her back. Or even to Confund her."

"Why? You know she is not a least bit dangerous."

It was going to be a shock for Petunia to see her sister at such place after such a long time. Lily did not wish to unsettle her mind even more.

"Do you really want her to remember the way you are living now?" he asked calmly. "Personally, I don't believe she cares that much, but it could disconcert her. It could ruin her perfect little Muggle Christmas and even make her undertake some nonsensical actions. Provided you tell her the truth, of course."

There was no way she could tell Petunia the truth. In spite of their arguments, Lily knew her sister had always cared for her. She would not spoil her life by showing her her suffering. It would be almost better if Petunia thought Lily was dead.

Severus had apparently been reading her mind. "I think so, my love. So you do agree to my conditions?"

She bent her head. "Yes."

"Good."

He brought her hand to his mouth and put a kiss on her palm, then reached for her lips.

"What are the potions Malfoy was talking about for?" she asked when he finally pulled back. She hoped her presentiment was unfounded.

"Oh," he said, standing up, "nothing important. Just a way to make sure my wish will come true as well, and as soon as possible."

***

The arrival of the Death Eaters to Black Manor was like the return of an old nightmare. Lily stayed obstinately in her rooms, but she could not avoid hearing the din they were making during their endless "Christmas" party. Unlike Malfoy's residence, Black Manor did not have the Silencing Charm on its walls. Perhaps it had been lifted by Snape at their arrival. For what reason, it was not hard to guess.

The first evening, she heard Rookwood and Dolohov get through the corridor leading to the Northern Wing. They seemed to be looking for a closet containing BDSM equipment. Their familiar hoarse voices gave her goose bumps.

"Are you sure it's here, Augustus?"

"He said the third door on the left."

"It would be interesting if the Blacks still kept some of their medieval stuff. To when do they date the origin of their 'Noble and Most Ancient House', anyway?"

"To the twelfth or thirteenth century."

"Yes, something like that. Do you think he uses some of those tools with his Mudblood?"

"To tell you the truth, Antonin, I don't know, and it matters little to me. The Mudbloods leave me supremely indifferent, even the domesticated ones."

"That's not what you said when we were dealing with the Fenwicks."

"Oh, that was Igor's idea, not mine. All I did was neutralize the blood traitor."

"Some might object it was the most evil part of the plan."

"Yeah. Evil me."

There were imperious female cries. "Hey, you there! Hey!"

"My name is Augustus, Bella."

"Whatever... Where are the bathrooms?"

"It's a Black Manor, you know. You should tell us."

Bellatrix left with a loud snort.

"Incredible! 'Where are the bathrooms?' As if she were going to a spa."

"Calm down, Augustus, and help me find that damn closet."

"Wait, this door is already the fourth one on the left. It should be there."

"Great. Alohomora! Let's see... Merlin's balls! And Regulus never said anything!"

"The snobs! They have restraints with diamonds?!"

For an unbearable half an hour, they stood there discussing and evaluating the different items of the equipment. Eventually, Mulciber came to hurry them up, and they levitated the tools to the main hall.

The next day, a group of Death Eaters passed quickly through the gallery. Snape's voice was irritated.

"Why don't you try to organize something yourself, Crabbe?"

"Merlin, no!" cried Malfoy, laughing. "Bad idea!"

"Yeah," added Avery with a snicker. "Don't even think of organizing anything! It would be just as disastrous."

"Very funny!" barked Crabbe, offended.

The steps faded out at the end of the corridor.

These were however the only times they came near to her quarters. She could stay all alone, even though Snape had given her his permission to join them, assuring her no one would touch her. As if she were missing them.

***

On the appointed day, Lily waited for Severus to come to her rooms. She could barely master her nervousness.

"Could you tell me her address again, my love?"

She did so, though she had the impression he remembered it perfectly.

"Very well. When she comes, don't let her leave the room. Most of my colleagues are drunk, and if they see a Muggle here, she will probably die under twenty simultaneous Cruciatus Curses."

He Disapparated. Less than five minutes later, he was back, holding a thin blonde woman scared to death. Judging by the flour she had on her hands and her apron, she had been roughly abducted while she was baking. Snape released her dismissively and wiped his hand on his cloak, almost exactly like Malfoy used to do.

Petunia glanced around her with her pale eyes full of fright. She spotted her sister and looked to be near to faint. Without waiting for a reaction, Lily threw herself to her and hugged her heartily – a gesture Petunia did not reciprocate. Over her shoulder, she saw Severus exit with a look which clearly meant 'I told you.'

After a while, Petunia disengaged herself and stood back. She was studying her sister apprehensively, distrustfully.

"Lily?" Her voice was unnaturally high and squeaky.

"It's me, Tuney."

It was more difficult than she had imagined. So much more difficult. But she had asked for it, and there was no way back now.

"I'm so happy to see you." She let the words come freely, without calculation. It was so liberating to talk openly again, without her mind being constantly invaded, without receiving twisted answers. "I'm very sorry to disturb you, to have made you come here without warning or asking you. But I absolutely needed to see you. Please, Tuney, let me talk to you, just for a moment."

Still perplexed, Petunia let Lily seat her in an armchair beside a little table where an elf had set a teapot with two cups and a plate of biscuits. She looked around her again while Lily was pouring her some tea.

"Where are we?" she asked feebly.

"In Severus Snape's house."

Petunia's eyes dilated with horror. "Snape? You mean... that Snape? It was him?"

"Yes."

Her hands shook, and she nearly spilled her tea on her knees. Lily could not help smiling sadly at how ridiculous her unease was. How could she ever be able to hear the reality?

"And where is... your family?"

At that word, Lily felt her chest clench tight.

"They... they are not here. I would have loved to show you my little Harry. But you see... I'm here for a visit. They couldn't come with me."

Petunia was gazing at her. She was obviously starting to feel something was wrong.

"What happened, Lily?" she asked. "You are... so pale. So gaunt."

Despite the bitter laughter trying to make its way up her throat, Lily felt warmth spread in her veins. It was the first time since years her sister had looked at her with such a concern.

"I... nothing important, Tuney. I just don't feel very well. I've had problems with my magic. But it will pass."

The excuse was poor, but it was all Lily could imagine. She shook her head, forcing herself to smile.

"Please, tell me about yourself. I've missed you so much."

It took a half of an hour to reassure Petunia and to ease her tension. Finally, she started talking about her family – her husband Vernon and her little son Dudley. Her cheeks turned pink and her eyes softened as she expanded on the baby, who was of the same age as Harry. Lily studied her face, touched by her exaltation and hardly perceiving the meaning of her words. Petunia seemed beautiful to her at that moment, as much as a women, a mother, could be. She genuinely loved her husband and her child, and the rest did not matter. Their past conflicts were so insignificant. Now that they were reunited, reconciled, she felt the peace settle over her. She had a sister she loved and who cared for her, and she had a sacred memory no one could take from her. It would help her withstand all the difficulties.

Time passed quickly, so quickly that Lily was put out of countenance when she felt Severus' black stare fixed on her. He was standing at the doorstep, his face blank and inscrutable. She had no idea for how long he had been listening. Not that it mattered.

Imperceptibly, and with great reluctance, she nodded at him. He lifted his wand immediately, aiming it at Petunia.

"Confundo."

The blonde woman froze, and the look in her eyes became vague, unfocused. He came closer, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

"You will remember this: your sister was killed with her husband and child on 31 October in Godric's Hollow. You were informed about it shortly after it happened, and you already mourned for her as the conventions required."

Lily repressed a sob. She had lost her last family member. But it was for Petunia's good, and hopefully, she would keep a positive image of her younger sister.

She raised her eyes at Severus, who was watching her with a thoughtful, calculating expression. She expected him to lower his wand, but he did not. Suddenly, he turned back to Petunia.

"You will never speak of her again. You'll behave as if you were an only child, like you have always desired."

Lily scowled. She did not understand what he meant, nor what he was getting at.

He continued, "You have always been jealous of Lily, no matter how much you tried to bottle it up. You parents preferred her over you, and you knew, deep inside, it was for a reason: you have never been half as beautiful, gifted and clever as she was. You have hated her, as you have hated yourself."

No. No. NO. This was not happening.

"Severus! Stop!"

Lily leaped from her armchair, but he raised his free hand, and she fell on the seat again, bound with invisible ropes.

"No! You bastard!"

He gave her a self-satisfied smile before turning to his victim again.

"Now, you have the chance to get on with your normal life, away from any kind of freaks and anomalies, and without anyone ever learning about your past."

Lily was nearly crying. He was there, perverting her sister's mind in front of her, destroying their relationship, soiling her last moment of happiness.

"Severus, don't! I beg you, don't!"

"Seize the occasion. Your sister exists no more for you."

"Severus, please!"

"Is it clear?"

"Yes," drawled Petunia, her voice distant and impersonal.

"SEVERUS!"

He grabbed Petunia's arm and Disapparated. Lily felt as though her chest were going to explode from rage and pain. She was suffocating, her throat contorted. Why could she not die, then and there? Why would her heart not stop pounding?

Snape returned two minutes later. He put calmly his wand into his pocket, then took out a handkerchief to wipe his hands, looking at Lily with the smug expression of a Slytherin who had just succeeded in a very sophisticated ruse.

You are a monster, Severus, she told him with her eyes, too shaken to be able to speak. You have ruined the only good thing I had. You set my sister against me, while she could help me surmount my grief and even get me used to this nightmare. Why are you doing this? I could have found a way to accept what you call "my fate"!

"Lily," he said almost wearily, "when you are ready to accept it, you will do so for me and for yourself. Not for Potter, not for your sister, not for Lucius' house-elves. For me. Until then, you will suffer."

"I hate you, Severus." It was all she could say, all she felt.

His lazy smile returned.

"I love you too, Lily."

He removed her bonds with a snap of his fingers, then quickly shut the door behind him to avoid the teapot she had thrown at him. It shattered into pieces, the gold-brown liquid trickling down the massive wood.

She heard him cast the Locking and the Silencing Charms on the entry to her quarters and flung herself to the door, unable to hold her burst of despair any longer. When exhaustion overpowered her, she slid down on the floor, pressing herself to the wooden entry. And there was nothing but the wind howling outside of the window in the high vaults of the galleries.