Harry Potter 1. Chapter 1  Invitation

**A/N: Hi! This is my first Harry Potter fanfiction posted on this site, so I hope you like it. It takes place in the seventh year of the Marauders Era, which means that Lily Evans, Severus Snape, James Potter, Remus Lupin and the like are all in their seventh year of Hogwarts. Anyway, I hope you keep reading! **

**Disclaimer: It's all J.K. Rowling's**

Dear Petunia,

I haven't written you in forever, and for that I apologize dearly. I kid you not when I say I've lost my quill countless times—James, no doubt, continues to 'borrow it', though I believe borrowing entails returning it, and the lender's consent.

I'm not going to go through this charade of writing you much longer, Tuney. You know I love you immensely, but if you continue to act as if I'd perished long ago, I'm not going to continue wasting my time. You're a wonderful person whom I'm lucky to be acquainted with, Tuney, with or without magic. In fact, sometimes I envy the fact that you don't have to put up with magic.

At any rate, how are you doing? I've missed you since Christmas break. Two days seems like forever, which is particular as last week, when I was on break, went by so fast.

I must go, Tuney. I hope school is going well. Hug Mum and Dad for me, please?

Love,

Lily

Lily Evans smiled at the words scrawled neatly on the worn piece of parchment, and placed her quill down on the deep mahogany desk. The buttery yellow sunlight that jetted through the thick glass window a few feet above her burgundy tresses illuminated the nearly unpopulated library. She allowed her jade green eyes to sweep over the letters one last time before folding the paper into crisp fourths and handing it to her tawny owl, Sorafiore. _(So-wra-fee-or)_

She spoke solemnly to the young owl. "This is for Petunia, Sora. Be nice - we want her to like us."

With that simple statement, she took hold of the ornate brass handle on the side of the window and yanked it open. A forceful gust of subzero wind tickled the exposed skin of her arms. Snowflakes cascaded heavily from the dreary grey clouds, and though they fell in large clumps, they swirled delicately as if performing an intricate ballet. The petite owl chirped in agreement, elated for the new and challenging assignment, and hopped out of the window. It plummeted several feet before flapping its long wings, and rising up too far for her to see from the third floor window.

"Talking to birds again, Lily?" Without looking, Lily knew not only who the voice belonged to, but also the slight smirk that would be worn on his face.

She turned to face James Potter with a weary smirk equivalent to half of a regular grin, forgetting the open window behind her. "Hello, Potter."

The lanky Quittich player gasped, placing a hand to his chest, mock-offended. "Potter? Are you implying that I am unworthy of a first name?"

Detestation was by far the hardest habit to break. After Snape had..._broken off_ their friendship a year previous, she had become closer to her formal rival, the pure-blooded James Potter. He'd fancied her for years, it was no secret, but ever since he'd returned from summer vacation he seemed much less cocky and conceited and much more mature. That was because, according to a great deal of gossip among the Gryffindor girls, his father had died over the summer. Lily was unsure about the truth to this; she tried to avoid the touchy subject.

But he was still utterly goofy.

"Certainly not, _James_, I am saying it aloud."

He chortled in response to her snarky tone. "Fine, be that way. Anyway, I've been meaning to speak with you…"

Lily raised her eyebrows in genuine surprise and slid in to her robe, and fastened her burgundy-and-golden scarf around her neck. "Oh?" She faked nonchalance as he led her out of the library. They lapsed in to silence, concentrating on the winding staircases and timing their escape to the ground level skillfully and accurately. After a brief moment, they seated side-by-side on one of the stone benches. They stared at the swooping birds—they were just below the Owlery—for several more moments in a comfortable silence.

Finally, James broke the silence like a cracking through a sheet of glass.

"Would you like to go the ball with me, Lily?"

Severus Snape was having a bad day.

_No, a bad lifetime_, he corrected himself mentally as he crossed his arms across his green and black tie. His golden dish sat untouched in front of him, though the delicious aroma of the feast wafted from around the Grand Hall tempted him greatly to tuck in to the pork chop display directly to his left. However, Severus told himself that he was not by any means hungry.

The cause of his sour mood? James _Freaking _Potter, of course. While most of Severus's irritation, and pain, centered on James's wand, this instance was much more sentimental. You see, Potter loved to one-up the greasy-haired Slytherin boy, whether it was because he was physically unattractive or he knew of Snape's interest in the Dark Arts. For example, when Severus earned an Exceeds Expectations in Transfiguration in fifth year, James easily earned an Outstanding. When Snape proved himself decent with a broom (Not that he'd ever _dream _of playing Quittich, the ruddy sport), James became the youngest Quittich player in _years_ during his second year, playing both Chaser and Seeker.

This was different from schoolyard rivalries, though. This was _serious. _Potter was dating Evans, and that was intolerable. Snape knew he messed up two years ago when he spat out the profanity at Lily—it was a single millisecond of unthinking stupidity, the biggest mistake of his life. He'd hoped his best friend would forgive him, but she took it as the last straw. That was heartbreaking, but not nearly as bad as what he'd witnessed earlier…

"_Hey, Snape, you're coming to Hogshead later?" Avery inquired as the usual pack shuffled down the chilly stone corridors of first-floor Hogwarts. Severus bit his tongue, quite literally, to keep from correcting him aloud: _sneaking_ in to Hogshead, which meant sneaking out of Hogwarts. _

Stop thinking like that, Snape_, he'd scolded himself. He didn't need a conscience anymore, he told himself; the only reason he had one in the first place was for Lily, and she was friendly with Potter's gang now. Beyond that, he was excited, because a couple of real live Death Eaters were rumored to be at the bar that night, and Mulciber's mum and dad had put in a good word for the trio of Dark Arts-fanatics. _

"_Yeah, course." Snape smiled eagerly, hiding his resentment. "Lucius is meeting us there, right?"_

_Lucius Malfoy was a couple of years older than Snape and his crowd, and rather close to the Dark Lord. He was in charge of recruitment, according to Mulciber, and was big in Muggle torture. It was crucial to be on good terms with Lucius if you wanted in with the Death Eaters. _

"_Yeah, but don't call him Lucius. I won't have you messing this up for me, you hear?" Avery retorted. Snape crossed his arms, not pleased with his companion's tone of voice—he was, after all, a seventh year and was not very fond of being addressed as a dog would. _

_Peeling his upper lip, murmured the incantation for the Pumpkin Head Jinx (Melofors) under his breath, but Avery cast a nonverbal counter-curse to avoid any unwanted head-encasing with an amused smirk. The pair quickly shuffled outside, and in to the courtyard. What Snape saw made his jaw drop, leaving a literal inch of space between his molars. _

_Lily, _his_ Lily, was situated next to James Potter, the disgustingly cocky James Potter, with his arm draped around her waist casually. She was grinning widely, as was he, and then—oh, Merlin no!—she twisted on the stone bench to peck his cheek with her full, rosy lips. _

_Avery merely chortled. "Tough luck, Snape." _

Severus sighed; glad he was on the side of the Slytherin table so that he would not have to study James and Lily being all _in love._ By now, three classes past when he'd originally spotted the two _cuddling _in the courtyard, it was common knowledge that the school's head jock would be escorting prefect Lily Evans to the Yule Ball. Thanks to Potter, it was also a well-known fact that Snape was attending unaccompanied.

That only left one thing to look forward to—Hogshead tonight.


	2. Chapter 2 Remus

**Chapter Two; Remus's Warning**

"Is it true, Lily? Are you going to the ball with James _Potter?_"

Mary MacDonald was not the first person to frantically whisper this question to Lily as if it were a detail crucial to their survival, nor would she be the last. The redheaded Gryffindor sighed and flipped a page in her Transfiguration book, forging her interest in the animate-inanimate transfiguration incantation she'd mastered long ago. If she was asked this question again, this particular jinx might come in handy…the imaginary smirk disappeared before it had a chance to claim her lips. Misusing magic was best left to the Death Eaters.

She wouldn't have minded the questions so much if she could figure out the answer. Not the immediate answer, because that was always a confirmation of fact, but _why _she was going to the ball with Potter. It wasn't that she fancied him; of course not. After the hell he'd put her through for their first six-and-a-half years of Hogwarts? No, never. _It could have just as easily been Remus, _she told herself, _or Sirius. _It was merely a coincidence that James asked her first, and they were going as…friends?

Lily Evans was beginning to doubt herself, an unusual occurrence.

So, she merely nodded in response. "Yes."

Mary seemed to sense she'd hit a nerve, but her dull brown eyes shimmered at the possible gossip. "You're so lucky—I know Hestia would murder for a chance to kiss James Potter goodnight."

Lily gasped, repulsed, and wrinkled her nose dramatically. "Mary, we're just going as friends."

She threw a sideways glare at James, who was obviously eavesdropping on the conversation. He smirked disobediently when his hazel eyes locked on her malevolent green ones before turning back to complete the assignment. Peter, the youngest member of the Marauders who Lily privately thought looked like a troll, snickered.

She rolled her eyes but smiled before turning back to Mary and murmuring, so low she could barely hear her own voice, "At least for me."

Professor McGonagall, who Lily had turned her attention towards, nodded in approval of James's charmwork, her muddy brown bun staying firmly in place atop her bony head, and addressed the class in a strident voice, "I admit myself impressed with your work; no homework today. Class dismissed."

Smiling in relief at her luck—no homework at all today, a rarity for Hogwarts' tough curriculum—Lily strapped her leather book bag across her chest and made to exit the large classroom. However, a hand gripping her elbow gently held her back, and she whirled her head around to see who had stopped her. It was Remus Lupin, whose mousy brown hair seemed a little flatter this week. Lily had speculations about this, but kept them quiet in favor of letting the group come out and tell her when they were ready. It wasn't like she wasn't sure that the Remus was a werewolf. She was a clever girl capable of figuring things out herself.

"Lily," Remus said hurriedly. "I want to talk to you very quickly about James."

Lily, feeling overwhelmed by his rushed and frenzied voice, nodded silently, causing her red ponytail to bob up and down vigorously. "Yeah, sure. What's up, Moony?"

Remus flinched at the nickname bestowed upon him by his fellow Marauders, unaccustomed to hearing it used by an outsider, so to speak. "Look, I know James fancies you. _Everyone _does." Lily blushed and glanced down, knowing the truth to this statement. "Not only that, but he _cares _about you…ugh, I donno how to explain it. Just…just promise me that you'll be careful, alright?"

A smile overcame her lips at his words, and she repressed an unladylike snort. "You think that I'm going to fall for James Potter just because I'm attending a ball with him?"

"Well…yes, I do."

_That won't happen,_ Lily promised herself there and then. She would not fall for the boy who ruined her life, who indirectly ripped her best friend from her life. He'd taken Severus and dumped him out, and that move had earned him heaps of caution on Lily's part. She wouldn't allow him to claim her affection, too. Because, while James was good-looking and smart, he would always be that arrogant arsehole he was in first year.

With a competitive smirk, the redhead replied, "I promise you that I will _not_ fall for Potter. It's just a ball, Remus."

* * *

A wide beam had conquered Snape's thin lips for most of the day, though the pleasant expression was marred by his permanently-furrowed brow and greasy curtains of black tresses that hung in his face. He grinned throughout breakfast and all during his classes. Questioning of his sanity was voiced from Mulciber when his grin refused to fade in History of Magic, his dullest class by far, but no one else seemed surprised—when had Severus Snape _ever _made sense? He certainly wasn't starting now.

The cause for his joyous attitude was simple: acceptance. In his seventeen years of life, not once had he ever felt in place, wanted. His father resented him in his house, Severus's mother's magical pedigree for creating 'another _devil spawn_,' causing Sev to avoid the house as frequently as possible. He was constantly antagonized by James Potter's gang and their worshipers at Hogwarts, maiming his memories there for the worse. But, Lucius Malfoy had said that Snape woud be "a definite fit" for the Death Eaters.

Only when he snuck away to visit the boy's lavatory at his pre-lunch free period did he dare to dig in to his pocket, his fingers sensitive for the scrap piece of parchment. Biting his lip eagerly, he pulled out the note and reread it carefully.

_66 Knockturn Alley, the Crypt _

The meeting at Hogshead had gone better than expected; Malfoy, shared interest in the deep ways of the Dark Arts, and seemed impressed with his vast knowledge of the subject. Avery had managed to impress him with his clean ancestry, and Mulciber's parents were held in high esteem by Malfoy. He'd entrusted the trio with the whereabouts of an Unplottable safe house at Knockturn Alley, with instructions to meet him there a week later.

"I've heard of the Crypt before," Mulciber mentioned as he stuffed half a slice of French toast in to his wide mouth at supper. "Not by name, just in passing. It's also called the Final Hall."

Snape raised his eyebrows, chilled by the name. "Why's that?" He demanded, layering his tone in indifference to hide his slight fear. This was _exciting_—he would get to meet all kinds of people who knew more about the Dark Arts than he ever dreamed existed! But his eyes kept trailing back to Lily Evans where she sat, mingling with a Hufflepuff girl that Mulciber hexed last week. He knew that Lily would disapprove greatly. But that didn't matter, because Lily was a separate entity now.

"Because you either come out with the Dark Mark or don't come out." Avery snickered, his yellow eyes shining with anticipation.

Snape narrowed his black hole eyes at the brunette boy and whispered, "That doesn't make any sense. You are aware that the Dark Lord must be present at the time one receives the tattoo, right? Anyway, a Dark Mark is an unspeakable high honor granted only to the Dark Lord's inner circle."

Avery goggled at him, obviously at loss for how the Snape boy knew this. But, unlike many of the other Death Eaters-to-be that roamed Hogwarts' passageways, Severus had a vast knowledge of the Dark Arts—he knew what he was getting himself in to, which made the prospect even more welcoming. If only he could get out of this _ruddy school_…

Mulciber began chuckling to hide his shock. "Alright, Snape! Paying attention in DADA, are we?"

Snape nodded slowly, although this was not true. Dumbledore would be damned if the students of Hogwarts learned that much alluring detail about the Death Eaters. "Yeah, I have."

It wasn't rare that Severus felt remorse over his expansive knowledge of the Dark Arts, mainly because of the ethics his ex-best-friend had installed in him over their five years of strong friendship. But this warning alert in his head that what he was doing with the Dark Arts was wrong was different. He could almost hear Lily's gentle tone voicing his own thoughts: _This is much more serious than playing around with childish curses, Sev. This is He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named we're talking about._

Snape's cheeks colored in anger. "You're not my mum—you're just a Mudblood!" He hissed under his breath, not believing the words at all. He wasn't Sev anymore; he was _Snape_, and he didn't belong to Dumbledore, or his neglectful parents, or even Lily Evans: he would be the Dark Lord's, because the Dark Lord _understood_ the Dark Arts. He would be the best teacher, the best employer and the supreme master. He was the side that Snape preferred to be on.

**A/N: Thank you so much for all the positive feedback! I really didn't expect it, though it means the world to me. Next chapter will be up soon, hopefully. :] **


	3. Chapter 3 Of Cats and Miracles

**Chapter Three; Of Cats and Miracles **

"Hey, Lily! Wait up,"

Lily sighed and squeezed her eyes shut in frustration, coming to a stop in the middle of the crowded corridor. Shooting an apologetic smile to Howie Hendricks, with whom she'd been discussing the N.E.W.T. Potions class, she excused herself and pivoted slowly on her heels to see James Potter hurrying towards her, the Marauders on his heels. Of _course_.

"Hey, Lily Flower." James greeted a blushing Lily, who thanked the heavens that no one was in hearing range, with the exception of the Marauders. "What's up?"

Frowning deeply, Lily struggled to keep her tone light and cheerful. "I'm sorry, James; I was just on my way to study in the common room."

Sirius smirked at her. "Ah, ah, ah, that's not polite, is it? We chose to spend our break hour with you and you _refuse_? Doesn't sound like good manners, Miss Head Girl."

Responding for Lily, James flicked his wand towards Sirius, whose russet locks instantly turned a vivid shade of pink. Peter gripped his side in laughter, while Remus merely beamed into his book, and even Sirius had to crack a smile at the absurd shade of his hair. "Lay off her," James warned, his menacing charade marred by a smile.

Lily laughed with genuine amusement, and James couldn't help but compare her giggle to a melodic wind chime. "Certainly you can locate a first year to mess with, Padfoot?"

He shrugged and snapped his fingers, silently changing his hair color back. "Exceedingly true, but you can't use our nicknames, Lee, until you've been initiated."

"Initiated?"

Remus glanced up from his book with an interested light to his eyes, and translated Sirius's words for Lily. "Initiated, yes. You've got to pull a prank."

And _that_ is how Lily Evans ended up, clad in the most extraordinary magical item she'd encountered during her seventeen years of life, crouched in the middle of the corridor next to James Potter. James called the cloth an Invisibility Cloak, the exact one from that old story written in The Tales of Beedle the Bard. When worn, the wearer faded into completely invisibility.

As it happened, the cloak fell into James Potter's hands, a terrible mistake of fate given his record as a chief prankster of the school. Currently, Lily and James were squatting under it in a sixth floor corridor. Lily privately marveled at the power pulsing through the cloak.

"This is the _craziest _thing you've ever done," Lily hissed in James's ear.

His hazel eyes shimmered from beneath his glasses. "No, probably not,"

Lily silently concurred. "Anyway, what do you plan to do with Mrs. Norris once we _kidnap _her?"

James beamed at hearing the plan being spoken aloud. It was all pure brilliance—_borrow_ Filch's cat with a ransom note demanding a pound of Ever Flavor Beans be left in the Owlery. Not one of their more serious pranks, but suitable for a first-timer such as Lily.

"Once we _borrow _her, we can put her Myrtle's bathroom," He said.

Lily smiled. "That might qualify as animal cruelty, James."

He laughed sincerely and continued to gaze at her. It still seemed surreal to him that, after seven years of chasing after Lily Evans, she was sitting right next to him, having a civil conversation with him. Maybe that was all he would ever get; friendship. He could settle for that, though he certainly would _not _give up without a fight. Lily's eyes slid over to his, and she found herself staring.

Without planning it or realizing what she was doing, Lily reached down to where James's hand rest on his leg and seized it in hers. He inhaled sharply at the warm feeling that engulfed his core at the touch, as if he'd recently downed a mug of cocoa, and allowed his fingers to intertwine with hers.

_Remember what Remus said! _Lily was screaming at herself, her logical nature overtaking her for only a second. Instead, she recalled him saying that James cared about Lily atop of fancying her. _That's a big step forward. _

Lightly, in the background, a gentle meow could be heard, quiet as if Mrs. Norris was trying, in an uncharacteristic moment of kindness, not to ruin the moment.

* * *

_Miracle is a funny word_, Snape speculated as he treaded silently up one of the blasted magical staircases, which was moving under his feet. Except for the bluish-white light emitting from the tip of his fourteen inch elegant wand, the castle was utterly black. Snape liked it better this way.

What was the actual definition of the word miracle? Snape didn't care enough to look it up in one of those wretched Muggle dictionaries, whose pages missed words critical to the Wizarding World (Snape took time to spit over the railing when his mind produced the word 'Muggle'). The definition would be erroneous, because loads of magic would clarify as miracles to Muggles.

On the other hand, a lot of it would also appear like demon's work. That was the type of magic Snape was interested in.

"_Snape, if you can do that, then you're a miracle worker."_ Malfoy had graced him the compliment after Snape presented his hunch.

"_I can see a Dark Mark in your future," _Nott had seconded, _"If you manage to succeed, that is. If you fail, I will personally see to your punishments."_

Snape grinned, exhilarated by the risk. _This_ was why he was slated to become a Death Eater, assuming his vague thought became an elaborate plot, because he liked the thrill. He was a Prince, after all, pure-blood on his mother's side. "Pure blood…" Snape whispered aloud.

A withered voice that did not belong to him startled Snape out of his musings. "Often, we wish for things out of our reach simply because we know they are unobtainable."

Severus gasped, and his head snapped up from his hunched posture. A man was standing before him, and not just any man, but the headmaster himself. Dumbledore was taller close-up, with wispy strands of white hair falling from his chin to his chest. He was fully dressed, wearing exquisite lavender robes, and a wide, friendly smile.

"Hello. My name is Albus Dumbledore." He continued to an aghast Snape, as if he wasn't completely aware that he was speaking to (or rather, being spoken at by) the headmaster of Hogwarts.

Snape quickly composed himself, thinking up a decent excuse. "Severus Snape, sir."

_This is the enemy, _Snape reminded himself. This was the leader of the other side, the side that wanted his hero murdered, or stopped of his heroic deeds at the very least. It was a shame, Snape mused, though; Dumbledore was a powerful wizard, no doubt. How had he gone so askew? Surely Dumbledore, of all people, could appreciate the power of the Dark Arts.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Severus, though I would have preferred it under more permissible circumstances. May I inquire what you've been doing in the corridors of Hogwarts at this hour?" His tone wasn't accusatory, merely curious.

Snape was silent for several seconds, considering his answer. He must not underestimate the enemy—Malfoy had told him that. "I got claustrophobic and couldn't sleep."

"So, naturally you decided to take a stroll up to ground level corridors." It was a good point, seeing as Snape's fingers would brush the curved ceiling above him if he jumped. The corridors on the ground level were worn and bent from the weight of the castle, though magically ensured not to crumble to bits.

Trying to look guilty, he bit his lip and bent his head to that his slimy dark hair masked his eyes. "I was heading up to the kitchens, sir. I…I got hungry."

Dumbledore merely smiled, nodded in a gesture that plainly stated 'if you say so', and strode off without another word. Snape stared at the place where his lean frame had been moments ago for quite some time before turning around and rushing back to the Slytherin dormitories.

**A/N: This chapter is…eh. The first part was fun to write, but I'm unsure about the quality of the second part. I promise there will be more Snape-centered action next chapter. **


	4. Chapter 4  Rumors

Chapter Four; Rumors

"'Et's 'eave da note on Sad-er-day," Sirius, the commanding officer of Mrs. Norris's abduction, suggested, his words barely comprehensible through the dozen sausage links stuffed in his mouth. Lily had grown accustom to the incoherent nature to the boys' words when they ate and was able to interpret: _let's leave the _[ransom]_ note on Saturday. _

The Marauders and Lily were gathered around prefect area at the head of the Gryffindor table, though technically Peter and Sirius weren't allowed. Luckily, the cafeteria was nearly empty given the early hour and no one was close enough to overhear the Black boy.

"Why Saturday?" Peter wondered aloud.

Remus answered, "So we can spy on Filch without worrying about our classes, obviously."

Lily smiled at the amount of thought put in to this. She could see that, to the boys, it wasn't just pointless pranking—it's _fun_, and somehow simultaneously academic. The thrill-factor tickled her stomach every time she thought of the prank. Sure, Mrs. Norris and Filch weren't benefiting like she was, but the two were certainly deserving of the punishment. Sirius had said it best, when they'd locked Mrs. Norris in Myrtle's bathroom: _"For all the kids Mrs. Norris has ever peed on!" _

"Don't you have a Quidditch match that day?" Lily directed the question at Sirius and James, the stars of Hogwarts' best Quidditch team.

"Nope, it's Ravenclaw versus Slytherin, and I'm siding with the geeks on this one." James laughed—it was true that the Ravenclaw students had a reputation for being brighter, but also less, erm, socially active.

Lily shared, "The Sorting Hat considered putting me in Ravenclaw, you know. But it decided I was too cheeky."

James put an arm around her shoulders while delivering the punch-line, "And that's what we love about you." As everyone laughed, he glanced sideways towards Lily, smile fading. His glance was so dependent on her responding one, so vulnerable—_is this okay?_ He was asking.

Yes, Lily wanted to answer. It's most definitely _okay_. But, no, it wasn't. She had boundaries. She always had—the ones before her friendship with James had been a bit absurd, true. But either way, James Potter was not allowed to put his arm around her shoulders. He had never earned that right.

He retracted his arm, and conversation flowed easily for the rest of breakfast.

Later that day, when talking to Emmaline Vance, a small tidbit of gossip reached Lily's ears. Emmaline had been talking about Terry Reed, her date to the Yule Ball, being captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, when Mary had dragged her away, claiming she "had something important" to tell her. Once they reached a more private section of the crowded Gryffindor common room, Mary began whispering.

"I don't think it's true," She began, her voice hushed, "But I'm going to ask anyway. Lily, are you or are you not cheating on James with Severus Snape?"

"_Pffht-what?" _

"Don't ask me. I heard it from Amy who got it from Hestia. I guess James is really torn up about it, too, so if it's true—you've gotta make things right, girl. My mom once told me that boys rarely show emotions because their even more insecure than girls, so you've got to—"

Lily interjected the seemingly endless monologue once she regained the ability to think in coherent sentences. "Mary, it's _not true_! I'm not even dating James; I'm just going to the ball with him. And as for Severus, you know fully well that I will _never_ even consider giving that prat the time of day."

Mary nodded. "I know that, Lily, but other people…they don't know that. I think the damage has already been done with this one. James has probably heard by now."

Snape wanted to be left alone. He wanted to be left alone, in a private room, to _think _and write and scrawl out notes. His head wasn't large enough to contain all of these ideas, thoughts, facts (Though the Marauders would promptly assure him that his head was _plenty _large, and he shouldn't blame his stupidity on that). He needed a place to hide out his Saturday, away from Avery and Mulciber and all those bloody Gryffindor.

He needed the Room of Requirements.

When he arrived at the place the door was most commonly found, Snape merely had to pace a few times, chanting the mantra 'I need a place to think' before a wooden door appeared on the wall. He yanked it open by the cool brass handle and stepped inside.

It was the most magnificent place Snape had ever seen—ceiling-tall bookshelves filled with volumes that had titles like 'Secrets of the Dark Arts,' a desk with piles of parchment, and windows with magnificent views of the grounds. Snape would have gladly lived there, dwindled away the rest of his life in the magnificent room.

He sat down at the desk and began to think things through. First, the meeting at Hogsmeade with Lucius. It had gone well, yes, but one thing Malfoy had said stuck with him: _The Dark Lord has an abundance of accessible, yet dim-witted, Death Eaters. You three must be different. _

Well, Snape wasn't making any bets on his two companions, but he _was_ different. He would not only deliver, but prove himself to the Dark Lord. But how? The Dark Lord was, in fact, a _lord _of _Darkness. _How does one impress a lord of Darkness?

That wouldn't get him anywhere, because the Dark Lord was more than his title. He was looking for gain: something, anything, that would help him win this war. How could Snape help accomplish that?

The answer came easy: Hogwarts. The Dark Lord must be eager to gain control of the school. He, and a dozen other wannabe Death Eaters, were already inside, the perfect spies. They were all looking for a chance to prove themselves. If Snape could get just _some_ Death Eaters in to Hogwarts, with assistance from the future Death Eaters already inside, overpowering the staff would be an easy feat.

But what about the students? Snape would not underestimate their willingness to fight back, but that would only hold true if they had some sort of leader. That would be the staff. If the staff didn't (or couldn't) lead the students, sure, some foolish Gryffindor might try to fight, but they would be quickly overpowered. So, it followed logically that the student body and staff had to be separated.

But how? When were the students all in one place? Mealtimes in the Great Hall, sure, but that lacked the dramatic flair both the Dark Lord and Snape favored. All the students would be leaving for Christmas break soon…

That was it! Merlin, Snape was brilliant! The Yule Ball would be the _perfect _time for an attack. The students and staff would be unprepared and unsuspecting; some wouldn't even be armed with their wands! It was the single most brilliant thought Snape had ever had, rivaled only by the idea he'd had so many years ago, when he first saw Lily, that she might be nice.

_Stop it, Snape. _His thoughts were always returning to her, even when on _completely_ unrelated topics. But…Snape wasn't going to deny that he'd heard a rumor floating around about the two of them, he thought with a grin. Today, Anabel Peridot and Bethany Travers approached him during free period. It had been a weird exchange…

"_I hear you got back with your Mudblood girlfriend." Anabel sneered. Her obsession with blood purity was a trait commonly shared among Slytherins._

_Snape, who'd been walking alone in the corridor, furrowed his brown at them. Mudblood girlfriend? Who could they possibly be...oh. "What?"_

_Bethany rolled her tawny brown eyes and sidestepped in between Anabel and Snape. She set her hands on his shoulders, demanding his focus. "Look, Severus, is Lily Evans or is she not using you to cheat on James Potter?"_

_Snape's confused expression softened and became a small, Snape-equivilent of a grin. "Does it matter?" He avoided the question. The more hurt he could do to Potter, the better, and it didn't matter if it involved lying about getting with Lily._

_Anabel squealed. "Yes! It's true! I knew it, Bethany. Ooh, he's going to be crushed!" _

_The two hurried away without another word, leaving Snape alone to his thoughts. Would this be the best chance of revenge he would get at James Potter?_

Snape was able to grin now, not only at the memory, but at the thought that this plan, the Yule Ball invasion, just might be the real greatest chance of revenge he would ever get on James Potter. He would get the last word, and the last sound James Potter would hear would be Snape's maniacal laugh.

**A/N: Muchos apologies for the much too-long pause in between chapters, but I assure you I am up and writing now! My life got super-hectic with the beginning of school again, and I just haven't had time, though now that basketball's over I promise to write much more. **


	5. Chapter 5 Old Nicknames

**Chapter Five; Old Nicknames **

Lily felt bad for James Potter.

This was a rare event, unique even. Usually, whatever pity she may have felt for the black-haired boy was canceled out by the hell he put her through in their previous years at Hogwarts. She didn't feel bad for him when he was publicly dumped by Amelia Miles fourth year, nor when Hestia Jones spread the rumor that he was secretly a female after he turned her date offer down. In fact, Lily had been heartlessly rejecting James Potter for the past six years without a second thought.

But this was different.

Because they were friends now, because it was a more personal blow. But maybe because, for the first time Lily could remember, James was vulnerable in a huge, public way.

After receiving the news from Mary, she set off in search of James or the Marauders. They weren't anywhere to be seen in the common room, so she headed to the library. There was a good shot Remus was there, and where there was one Marauder, there was usually more. Luck struck her, though, when she literally ran in to Sirius upon exiting the common room via the Fat Lady.

"Whoa there, Red." He said, utilizing his irritating nickname for her. "You don't want to run over any first years."

"Sirius!" She breathed, relieved. "Do you know where James is?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Probably off, gazing sentimentally out a window somewhere as he laments over the fact that his first love has cheated on him." His whimsical tone stopped then, to be replaced with his normal one. "Why do you ask?"

Realizing that the only way she was getting a straight answer was by force, Lily retracted her wand from her cloak and poked it menacingly in to his neck. "Sorry about this, Sirius. I'm sure you like your eyebrows un-bedazzled. Anywho, you were saying where James was…?"

Sirius merely laughed. "Surprisingly bad ass, Lily. He's in Myrtle's bathroom, with Mrs. Norris, for whatever reason."

Lily took off sprinting, barely pausing to call thanks over her shoulder. The halls were mainly empty, as most students were in their common rooms and teachers in their offices, so she was able to maintain a full-fledged dash through the halls and five flights of stairs. By the time she reached the door, her ponytail was messy and she was out of breath. Not hesitating a moment, she shouldered the door and took a few tentative steps inside.

He was leaning against a sink, his arms propping him up. His head was bowed, causing his dark hair to fall in to his obscured face. He wore his white Hogwarts shirt, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, and his tie loose around his neck. Mrs. Norris was rubbing against his legs, meowing angrily at the lack of attention paid to her.

"James," She called quietly to him. He didn't turn. "James, please, talk to me."

He didn't move, but said in a shaky tone, "_Why_ are you here?"

It was a good question. Honestly, she'd considered no other option after receiving the news. She had to make things right, set things straight.

"To talk with you. Please, James…" She said, taking a few more steps closer. Now, in the mirror above the sink, Lily could see James, hair still covering his face, with her behind him, so close they were practically touching.

She, very timidly, placed a hand on his shoulder. "James, it's not true. I don't know what exactly you've heard—"

He wheeled around on his heels, standing straight. The distance between them was thin, so much so that their noses were a mere two inches apart. "Oh, I've only heard that you're sleeping around—with _Snape!" _

_Ouch_. His tone was like a whip to the cheek, loud and stinging, and Lily's reaction was fitting—she recoiled, hand covering her mouth and nose, truly feeling as if she'd been slapped by his words. Tears pooled in her eyes, but she bit back the sob that rocked through her body like a tremor. Did he really think so little of her, as to believe that?

"James, it's not true." She repeated. "I wouldn't. You were there last year. You saw…No. Snape has clearly chosen his side. I don't have any feelings for him."

James still didn't break. "I don't know, Lily. I _don't know._"

Snape had a mission.

Sort of like a dying wish, only backwards—it was the last thing he would wish for before beginning his life as a Death Eater. There weren't many things he would stop at to achieve this goal, either. It was so serious that it earned priority over the Yule Ball invasion planning.

He was going to talk to Lily Evans.

Snape knew it was a long shot, but if he could single-handedly plan the infiltration of Hogwarts, this should be a breeze. Plus, there were so many things he had to say to her. Apologize for last year, warn her about James, and apologize for what he would do in the future. They would be on two separate, very distinct sides soon, enemies even, and now was the time for…closure. Okay, who was he fooling? He was going to beg her to forgive him, to change sides for him. He _would_.

He first needed to spot her without James on her hip. This seemed to be happening more often now: Severus rarely saw them together anymore, and if they were, it was with the other mindless gits that called themselves the Marauders. That had to be a good sign—a sign that Lily was coming to her senses, anyway.

The next step was mustering the courage to actually talk to her. Chances were, he'd get assaulted and screamed at, and voluntarily walking in to that sort of thing went against Snape's nature. Nevertheless, he did it. They shared a break hour, and when he spotted her heading up to the Gryffindor common room alone, the opportunity seemed perfect.

"Lily!" He called, jogging to catch up with her. She turned around at the sound of her name but wrinkled her nose and rolled her eyes when she saw him.

"Go away or I hex you, Snape." She said, continuing to hurry forward. God, she had a fast pace, especially when she was angry, something he'd forgotten about. He practically had to run to keep up.

He replied, "Lily, look it. I just want to talk."

Lily glared at him irritably. "You know very well I would never agree to that. Especially now, with all the rumors…No. Go away."

"What? You're precious Jamie-kinz can't take the competition?"

She came to a stop abruptly, cheeks aflame. He couldn't help but stare at her—even angry, she was beautiful, with her rich red hair and dazzling smile and sparkling, huge emerald eyes…It was a sick, twisted thought, but perhaps the one thing Severus Snape had in common with James Potter was taste in women. (Well, _woman_, as he was pretty sure Lily Evans was the only girl either boy had ever truly adored.)

"There is _no_ competition, Snape." Her voice was surprisingly soft. "I…I have feelings for James, Sev. And, thanks to you, he's now avoiding me. So, if you'll excuse me…"

She'd admitted to liking Potter, then. Also, in the same sentence, she'd called him Sev. When was the last time that happened? A year ago? It felt nice to hear, but he was sure that the torture of the first event cancelled out the glee of the second, leaving him feeling empty, emotionless.

Now that he thought about it, he had sort of indirectly sent her in to the arms of James Potter. Maybe…no. That wasn't better. _His_ arms were better. James Potter was just looking for a trophy to one-up Severus. That was the only reason James had ever fancied Lily: because Snape had, and he wanted to win. Competition, that was it, and now Snape needed to warn her before he dumped her out like expired butterbeer…

"Lily, I have to warn about James. He—" Snape began to explain this to her, but she interjected.

"No, Snape, you don't. We're not friends, we're not even friend_ly, _so you're not going to warn me about anything." She snapped, eyes furious again. "Now, please, leave me alone."

With that, she turned around and whisked away. Snape stood there for a good portion of his break hour, merely standing in the hallway. In his mind, he could only hear Lily's voice, as if on repeat, referring to him as Sev for the last time. And he cried.

_A/N: Oooh, drama! The first part sort of just came out, like word-vomit (Mean Girls reference, anyone?), so I honestly have no idea how that's going to play out, short-term. I like the ending of the second part, because I'm sure Snape wasn't always bitter. Thanks so very much for the reviews/story alerting (Not a verb, huh? Haha) – you're awesome! _

_Side Note: Merry Christmas Eve! If you don't celebrate Christmas, merry Friday! _


	6. Chapter 6 Plot

**Chapter Six; Plot**

"I _hate_…I _can't believe_...with _him_…"

"Come on, mate, this is pathetic." Sirius said, leaning against the post of his bed.

Peter nodded in agreement. "She's just a girl, James."

Remus shook his head at the two. "You're all ridiculous. Except for Sirius."

"Sirius-ly?" Peter questioned cheekily, his eyes set on Sirius.

A Remembrall was thrust with spectacular aim at the plumpest boy's forehead. "Don't pun my name!"

Remus shook his head. James, who was watching this unfold with a troubled expression as he sat cross-legged on his bed, took a deep breath and plastered on an obviously forged smirk. Usually he was the one turning his friend's name in to an unwanted jibe, but that duty had been taken over by Peter as of late due to his…unfit condition.

"Yes, Sirius is right. This _is _pathetic." He turned his attention to James. "James, I know Lily."

There was a several second pause where Remus drew breath, and all eyes focused on the thoughtful expression of James. The only perceptible change was a slight darkening of James's brownish eyes. But, as usual, the silence did not last long between the Marauders.

At precisely the same moment, Peter muttered, "He Sirius-ly does," and Sirius hollered a string of profanities at Peter while flinging a sock at his head.

"She's not doing Snape!" Remus exclaimed, exasperated. Did he _always _have to be the sane one of the bunch?

Sirius sighed in relief. "Just as I suspected, Moony, old pal! I theorized, after hanging out with us for all this time, she would have better taste."

James rolled his eyes at his best friend and directed his attention towards the most intellectual of the bunch. "So you say, Moony. Would you like to provide some proof?"

As it happened, Remus _would_. Possible reasoning was that James was his friend. But, also, Remus was a freaking werewolf at a wizard's school and he'd be damned if he didn't believe in magic at this point. Dumbledore always said love was the most powerful kind of magic. Why not test the old man's theory out a bit?

In the end, it took the combined efforts of Moony, Padfoot, Wormtail and Red—Sirius insisted they call each other by their codenames for the duration of the "mission"—to come up with a plan. It took a little convincing to get Lily involved, because the plan was sort of dangerous, even for the Marauders, but she eventually agreed. This was in her benefit, anyway.

But that didn't mean she liked it.

The first step was the bait, as Remus called her. This was the most humiliating and cruel part of the plan, she thought, but didn't complain outwardly. Still, she was having a terrible bout of second thoughts as she manned her post just outside of the dungeon, the seventh year Slytherins' class.

When Snape emerged, she pounced. "Snape!" She called when she saw the top of his greasy-haired head. He glanced over at her, eyes confused, but it worked—he approached her.

"Lily?" The Slytherin asked his former friend, apparently at loss for any other words.

_Time to test out my acting, _she sighed mentally. "I want to talk to you…"

As the two argued—about the validity of Snape's earlier warning—they walked down the hall. Though Snape didn't seem to notice where they were going, Lily very carefully directed them up a pair of stairs, towards a supply closet.

When they reached the door, Lily coughed two loud hacks. The signal worked—the door to the supply closet swung open forcefully and two men flung themselves out. They attacked Snape in a blur and dragged him in to the closet, with Lily close on their heels. She had to admit, if this wasn't terribly angsty and against school rules, she would be laughing rather hysterically.

Inside the storeroom, Remus sent a stunning spell at Snape with a casual flick of his wrist, and the Slytherin collapsed in a heap when the red jet of light hit his chest.

"Nice work," Remus told Lily briskly as he and Peter heaved Snape's unconscious body in to a wooden chair placed against the wall farthest from the door.

As the two Marauders were securing Snape to the rickety chair with a series of Sticking Charms, the door opened again and Sirius and James squeezed in to the already tightly-packed closet.

"The hell?" James eyes questioned his friend's sanity as he took in the scene—Remus and Peter casting charms over Snape's limp body, with Lily staring at the floor guiltily and Sirius cracking up, all of which was happening in a supply closet. He'd seen some pretty weird stuff in his seventeen years of life, but this sort of took the cake.

Remus, the designated speaker, rushed to explain. "James, look. You think Lily is secretly dating Snape," Lily's blush deepened, "And you sort of told me you wanted proof. Well…here you go."

James frowned. "How is a lifeless Snivellous proof of anything?"

Lily cleared her throat, "He's actually just stunned. I nicked some Veritaserum from Slughorn. Couple drops and he'll tell you anything you want to know."

Oh. If James wasn't humiliated, confused and shocked, he might have congratulated his friend's brilliance. This was reckless yet well thought-out, the tell-tale sign of the Marauder's work.

James stepped forward and hesitantly took the eye dropper from Lily, not meeting Lily's eyes. "Should I just…?" He asked her, the most skilled in potions, but kept his eyes warily on Snape's body.

"Two drops will do. You should do it now, before Remus does the counter-curse. The potion works best if the drinker is unaware, because then they can't fight it off." She explained, and James's eyes flickered over to her, remembering earlier in the year when she'd helped him study for a Potions test. The way she taught stuck with him.

He nodded and poured two of drops of the clear, thin liquid in to Snape's mouth, then nodded to Remus. He stepped forward and said the counter-curse clearly ("Renneverate!") and with a burst of blue light, Snape snapped back to consciousness.

"What is going on?" He yelled, but Peter, Lily, and Sirius all aimed their wands warningly at him. He quieted himself, repeating in a whisper, "What the hell?"

James shook his head, either clearing it or warding off the question, and glanced at Remus. "Okay. Snape…are you and Lily dating?"

The answer came after a pause, in which Snape made a strangled noise. "No."

"Have you ever kissed?"

He gagged, but unwillingly spit out, "_No_."

"Have you ever done anything to qualify you as more than friends? Physically, I mean."

The pause was longer this time, and Snape glared at James with a fire that almost frightened the Gryffindor, though he did not back down. Finally, he growled, "No."

That was it. James nodded, looking neither relieved nor at all different, and Sirius clasped his hands together. "That went swimmingly! Now, I would like to take this opportunity to formally apologize to Sir Snivellous Snape."

Lily couldn't believe her ears. Was one half of her life—the present, and possibly the future—going to meet the past? If Sirius was apologizing to Snape for years of torture and dislike, then maybe they would be able to…be friends again? Or, be civil? Could this be the chance to steer her former friend clear of the Dark Arts?

"For what I am about to do. Snape, have you ever kissed a girl?"

Oh. Of course. Lily was being silly to think that Snape and the Marauders would ever be even polite to each other. No, for the past seven years they'd been taking every chance to make the other's life a bit worse, and that would not end today. Still, she couldn't help feel disappointed. That had been a welcoming prospect.

"Or a guy." Peter added, and even James laughed at that one. Lily crossed her arms.

As they continued to ridicule Snape—which, Lily knew, would go on until the last of the Veritaserum wore off—Lily's emerald eyes floated to meet James's. He cocked his head towards the door, sending a clear message: _Wanna get outta here?_

As she nodded, she felt something shimmer inside of her, but smothered it almost unthinkingly. Hope had no place here - in a time filled with death and murder, Dark Magic and Voldemort himself. Good things would continue to go on - every day, beautiful babies were born, bright flowers bloomed and birds sang harmoniously - but they would all be draped in darkness.

**A/N: This is sort of a mesh of the usual Lily and Snape halves that centers on James more than anyone. For the record, I don't particularly like this, especially the super-random place it ends, but I'm proud I managed to encorperate my seemingly-haphazard title. :] For those of you wondering (Probably no one, but I like to clarify things), Remus was planning to do a minor Memory Charm. Snape might break the affects, but by then all other evidence would be "mysteriously" vanished.  
**

**I appreciate the reviews so much, by the way. Thank you! **


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Harry Potter, Drama, Romance