Chapter Text
Lily knew by the birds in the window, the sun in her eye and the lack of her sisters grumbling that this day would be too good to be true. It might have been very pessimistic of her but when you live a life as a witch where every year back at Hogwarts is worse than the last it starts getting to you. She supposed she’d also spent too much time in the wrong company and it made her quite pragmatic.
Cracking her eyes open, she winces as the crumbs of sleep cling to her lashes, her freckled hand rising to rub it off. Her eyes arduously adjusting to the new light that pierced her room through dusty smelling curtains. The brightness drenching the dull pink in her room to a muted beige.
She sits up, blankets falling to her lap as she gives up on adjusting her eyes to the window, instead peeking at the suitcases packed prettily atop one another. Her stomach swims briefly, jew flexing, as she pushes up from the warm embrace of her bed. Lily didn't pack lightly and yet she swore that her bags never looked more lonely.
The brilliant thing about sleeping is that you tend to forget your waking life while your eyes are closed. Even better she gets allowed a few non pressing minutes of just being alive, adjusting to being conscious, her mind blank of any troubles she might’ve had yesterday. She walks, tripping over a dress shoe and doesn’t have it in her to get upset, her mind isn't caught up with her body. She can feel the relief of that even still.
Lily barely registers her hand reaching for her toothbrush, her using the bathroom, or her bathing regimen. Unfortunately it doesn’t last long, she catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror, red hair wild, tangled and puffy as if mocking her eyes that are of a similar state. Memories come rushing after that, of course. Crying, all night, on and off between fits of ugly rage. Staring into her reflection she’s remembering why she was crying all over again. Groaning, she realized it wasn’t the muddiness of sleep that had her throat sore and cheeks burning with salt trails. The first holiday out of the country and she looks like a Flobberworm. The first holiday out of the country and she couldn’t share it with him.
Lily gives herself a moment of glowering at the mirror in front of her only to jump three feet in the air as harsh, incessant banging booms on the bathroom door. “Lily! Get out this instant! I need the bathroom and you’re hogging it! You’re hogging it!” The shrill voice that could only belong to Petunia shrieks, slapping her hand against the wood like a drum band.
Lily sucks her teeth, hurriedly grabbing everything she can’t leave behind up in her arms and turning the knob. “Petunia I can’t get out if you grab it at the same time.” She sighs, breathing for patience unnecessarily as it’s never worked a day in her life.
“You let it go first.” Petunia said from the other side. Lily yanks her hand away, turning in a frustrated circle. “Fine! Come in.” she sing songs and with a self satisfied grin Petunia enters with her clothes in hand and blonde hair suspiciously perfect. “Get out.” She says, giggling to herself as Lily shoved past her.
At a certain point Lily had stopped caring too much about how Petunia felt towards her as it seemed like it was changing daily, with every hour Petunia had another odd emotional mood swing. Lily learned to take them as they happened, and typically with more grace. But today she finds herself marching back to her room, slamming her door open just as Petunia had the bathroom. She still needed her hair brushed, and her toothbrush put into one of her suitcases. She planned to do so very angrily only to find herself turning on her heel and marching once again down stairs. “Dad!” She shrieks perhaps as shrill as Petunia, an impressive feat surely.
A skinny middle aged man tries not to smirk into his coffee, blue eyes looking at his wife who leans on the other side of the counter, rolling her eyes. “She doesn’t like you touching her things, I wish you wouldn’t provoke her so, Oliver.” Delilah Evans says with her own mug in her hands.
Lily looks to her father with furrowed brows, her anger taking up a rather sweet impression of an irritated baby duck. Oliver nods vaguely in the direction of the entryway. “Put them by the door.” He says, stifling a laugh as Lily storms past to shove her things into a random pocket. “I can bring them down on my own. I don’t like you touching my stuff.” Lily complains, grumbling. “That’s why I do it.” Oliver sighs as if it was a great weight upon him, not bothering not to laugh as his wife hits him lightly across the shoulder as she’s moving past.
Lily does mind it but she’s humored anyway, making eye contact with him she just fixed her face more upset so he doesn’t get the satisfaction of knowing she still loves him. Or something. Lily takes her time purposefully carrying each of her bags to the car and fitting them in the trunk. Only spending a few seconds each time to try and peek over the creek that flowed a few blocks down. Something she’s done since the ripe age of nine years old and consequently something that’s become a rather nasty habit now that she has no reason to do so.
Her shoes grit against the gravel as she trudged her way back inside. Nearly toppling over with two new bags waist height in her way, unique in their yellow and green flora. “Don’t forget those.” Petunia smiles in a way some might call pleasant.
“You’re a big girl.” Lily cooed, patting the suitcase and side stepping it. “Perhaps you’re in a bad mood because there’s no breakfast to be seen.” Petunia jabs but it was aimed far more at their parents than Lily, so she lets it pass with a halfhearted glare. Oliver raises a dirty blonde brow of his own as he lifts Petunia’s bags for her, one in each hand, and proceeds to the car. Delilah followed with a small smile on her peachy lips. “Mum, you know Petunia hates the train food.” Lily complains, mostly because she hates the train food. “And Lily hates trains!” Petunia adds, mostly because Petunia hates trains.
Delilah only keept walking, Petunia pouting after her as Lily locks the door behind them.
“Silly girls.” Delilah hummed as if there was a very obvious answer both Petunia and Lily were neglecting. Green and blue eyes watch their mother in her flowy floral dress open the passenger door. “Severus likes trains doesn’t he love?” Oliver asks loudly from the driver's seat. “And you know they don’t feed him well over there… I was thinking of buying breakfast while we’re out.” Delilah said, sitting herself delicately in the car while her daughters stood shoulder to shoulder, with matching faces of utter shock.
The pause is long and begins to be quickly awkward on Lily’s part. “I thought you two broke up!” Petunia complains oh so loudly right in Lily’s freckled ear. “And he still thinks he’s coming with us? A whole day on a train with a boy who smells like the creek!” Lily shoves at her, suddenly a lot less open to her constant complaining. “I told him he’s not going with us to Italy.” Lily snarks “very, very clearly. I… just might’ve forgotten to mention it to mum and dad.” She shrugs, crossing her arms and looking away from Petunia’s expression of utter horror. The silence grates again and Lily throws up an irritated hand, fast pacing towards the car, her navy bell bottoms dusted with soot from the gravel. “They’ll find out when Snape isn’t packed for a trip.” She huffed before bordering herself inside the car, face as red as her fiery hair.
Petunia folds her arms, before dropping them and walking to the other side of the car, flipping a curl out of her face, prepared not to talk to Lily for the rest of… forever actually. “And we didn’t-“ Lily drops her voice to a whisper “-‘break up’ I’d never date him.” She muttered but Petunia’s look of mild disbelief only upsets her more.
The passing by of house after look-alike house was a boring yet familiar sight. Chipped paint on the walls but well cared for plants in front of them. They all quickly turn to murky brick, and garden planters with only rubble, the butts of rolled cigars, and indiscernible cans of who knew what anymore. Cracked windows leave shards of glass on the pothole ridden street.
“Ugh…” Petunia snorted derisively, honestly Lily couldn’t help to agree, it seemed as if each time they made their way to Spinner's End the place got worse and worse. Petunia is chided for her rudeness but Lily doesn’t hear it. Her eyes focused at the house she knew Severus would not be standing out to wait from. She didn’t want to see him again, she wasn’t supposed to see him again after what had happened. They park right in the center of the street, a feral cat scrambling past them, a raggedy dog chasing it down an alleyway as if this all wasn’t depressing enough as it was.
They wait a few minutes and as Delihla starts to look at her watch, Lily pulls up the courage to tell her parents that Severus would not be joining them this year. Or any year ever again.
“It’s like you freaks want to make my life hell.” Petunia hissed suddenly, pointing past Lily’s confused expression to the window on their mum’s side. A wiry boy could be seen, shouting- no screaming to the inside of his house, face contorted into an ugly sneer. He’s got one measly duffel bag and his Hogwarts trunk thrown at his feet. They can’t hear what’s being said but Severus’ face gets redder and his lanky arms fly with the spit from his jeering mouth. A man steps out then, a beer gut making an appearance before he did and who’s spitting just as much vitriol back at him.
Both Petunia and Delilah find themselves gasping in a state of shock as the man pulls back his hand and brings it down so hard over Severus’ cheek the teen's head snaps to the side. It’s then that deep, wintry black eyes focus on their car, before then soon onto Lily in the backseat. A myriad of emotions cross over them until seeming to decide that settling on indifference was the safest route. Lily tries to work up indignation over this but it simply does not work.
Oliver is already out of the car, kindly yet firmly breaking it up, explaining, presumably, where he’d be taking Severus and picking up the moth-eaten duffle. His shoulders are broad enough to completely swallow the sight of Severus and Lily doesn’t get a peak of him until her dad turns around, looking exasperated, and leading the limp haired boy behind the car. She feels the slight rocking motion of the trunk being opened and, defeated, moves to the middle seat just in time for her backseat door to expose a face she swears she hadn’t missed.
It's got bags under its eyes, bruises on its nose and a blooming red mark on its cheek, curtained by inky black locks that made it look more spare than ever.
“You look like a drowned rat,” Petunia says as soon as Severus shuts the door behind him. Before she could be chided by an adult Lily hears his voice, raspy from using it so harshly. “Was the ugly little grandma suitcase yours Petunia? Careful, you’re beginning to act your age.” He says so fast Lily doubts he ever even thought about it. And honestly isn’t that bright? Does Severus ever actually think about anything before he says it?
Lily bites her own tongue, caught in between the need to defend her sister and the need to laugh at Severus’ bite. The car began to pull off and Lily sat back, both Petunia and Severus looking out of their respective windows, fuming for their own reasons and it’s like nothing ever changed at all.