Destined | The Deathly Hallows : Book 7 Part 2

Snape's Tale 3

Harry

And the scene had changed once more... I was standing right behind Snape as we faced the candlelit House tables, lined with rapt faces. Then Professor McGonagall said, "Evans, Lily!"

I watched my mum walk forward on trembling legs and sit down upon the rickety stool. Professor McGonagall dropped the Sorting Hat onto her head, and barely a second after it had touched the dark red hair, the hat cried, "Gryffindor!"

I heard Snape let out a tiny groan. Lily took off the hat, handed it back to McGonagall, then hurried toward the cheering Gryffindors, but as she went she glanced back at Snape, and there was a sad little smile on her face. I saw Sirius move up the bench to make room for her. She took one look at him, seemed to recognize him from the train, folded her arms, and firmly turned her back on him. I smirked. Such a Kiana thing. The roll call continued. I watched Lupin, Pettigrew, and my father join Lily and Sirius at the Gryffindor table. At last, when only a dozen students remained to be sorted, Professor McGonagall called Snape. I walked with him to the stool, watched him place the hat upon his head.

"Slytherin," cried the Sorting Hat.

And Severus Snape moved off to the other side of the Hall, away from Lily, Allison and Ariana, to where the Slytherins were cheering him, to where Lucius Malfoy, a prefect badge gleaming upon his chest, patted Snape on the back as he sat down beside him. . . . And the scene changed. . . .Lily and Snape were walking across the castle courtyard, evidently arguing. I hurried to catch up with them, to listen in. As I reached them, I realized how much taller they both were: A few years seemed to have passed since their Sorting.

". . . thought we were supposed to be friends?" Snape was saying. "Best friends?"

"We are, Sev, but I don't like some of the people you're hanging round with! I'm sorry, but I detest Avery and Mulciber! Mulciber! What do you see in him, Sev, he's creepy! D'you know what he tried to do to Mary Macdonald the other day?"

Lily had reached a pillar and leaned against it, looking up into the thin, sallow face.

"That was nothing," said Snape. "It was a laugh, that's all -"

"It was Dark Magic, and if you think that's funny -"

"What about the stuff Potter and his mates get up to?" demanded Snape.

His color rose again as he said it, unable, it seemed, to hold in his resentment.

"What's Potter got to do with anything?" said Lily.

"They sneak out at night. There's something weird about that Lupin. Where does he keep going?"

He talks to the Moon, just go with it Snape.

"He's ill," said Lily. "They say he's ill -"

"Every month at the full moon?" said Snape.

"I know your theory," said Lily, and she sounded cold. "Why are you so obsessed with them anyway? Why do you care what they're doing at night?"

"I'm just trying to show you they're not as wonderful as everyone seems to think they are."

The intensity of his gaze made her blush.

"They don't use Dark Magic, though." She dropped her voice. "And you're being really ungrateful. I heard what happened the other night. You went sneaking down that tunnel by the Whomping Willow, and James Potter saved you from whatever's down there -"

Snape's whole face contorted and he spluttered, "Saved? Saved? You think he was playing the hero? He was saving his neck and his friends' too! You're not going to - I won't let you -"

"Let me? Let me?"

Lily's bright green eyes were slits. Snape backtracked at once.

"I didn't mean I just don't want to see you made a fool of He fancies you, James Potter fancies you!" The words seemed wrenched from him against his will. "And he's not . . . everyone thinks . . . big Quidditch hero -"

Snape's bitterness and dislike were rendering him incoherent, and Lily's eyebrows were traveling farther and farther up her forehead.

"I know James Potter's an arrogant toerag," she said, cutting across Snape. "I don't need you to tell me that. But Mulciber's and Avery's idea of humor is just evil. Evil, Sev. I don't understand how you can be friends with them."

I doubted that Snape had even heard her strictures on Mulciber and Avery. The moment she had insulted James Potter, his whole body had relaxed, and as they walked away there was a new spring in Snape's step. . . . And the scene dissolved. . . . I watched again as Snape left the Great Hall after sitting his O.W.L. in Defense Against the Dark Arts, watched as he wandered away from the castle and strayed inadvertently close to the place beneath the beech tree where James, Sirius, Lupin, and Pettigrew sat together. But I kept my distance this time, because I knew what happened after James had hoisted Severus into the air and taunted him; I knew what had been done and said, and it gave me no pleasure to hear it again . . . I watched as Lily joined the group and went to Snape's defense. Distantly he heard Snape shout at her in his humiliation and his fury, the unforgivable word: "Mudblood."

The scene changed. . . .

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not interested."

"I'm sorry!"

"Save your breath."

It was nighttime. Lily, who was wearing a dressing gown, stood with her arms folded in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, at the entrance to Gryffindor Tower.

"I only came out because Ariana told me you were threatening to sleep here."

"I was. I would have done. I never meant to call you Mudblood, it just -"

"Slipped out?" There was no pity in Lily's voice. "It's too late. I've made excuses for you for years. None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you. You and your precious little Death Eater friends - you see, you don't even deny it! You don't even deny that's what you're all aiming to be! You can't wait to join You-Know-Who, can you?"

He opened his mouth, but closed it without speaking.

"I can't pretend anymore. You've chosen your way, I've chosen mine."

"No listen, I didn't mean -"

"to call me Mudblood? But you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I be any different?"

He struggled on the verge of speech, but with a contemptuous look she turned and climbed back through the portrait hole. . . .I actually feel kind of bad for him...