Work Text:
She heard him before saw him, that cocky, arrogant bark of laughter she was all too familiar with. Neatly dispatching her opponent, Lily whirled around, searching the battlefield for—there, at the edge of the forest, that hateful mop of windswept hair. All at once, the rest of the battle, death eaters and order members alike faded away, and Lily charged with a howl of fury, her world reduced to nothing but herself and James fucking Potter.
"Sectumsempra!"
Spotting her spell, Potter threw himself out of the way, but not even his quidditch reflexes could match the force of Lily's anger. Blood sprayed through the night air as Potter's left leg buckled underneath him, sending him crashing to the ground, and his wand tumbling from his hand. Stalking forwards as Potter scrambled for his wand, Lily raised her own once more as she stood over him, rage and loathing burning in her veins.
Her hood had fallen back, freeing her wild red hair to curl around her shoulders, and she saw with relish the way his face paled as he realized who it was behind that death eater mask. "Evans?" He whispered, horrified, and Lily snarled to see her own name on Potter's lips.
"Crucio!"
Potter screamed, pain lancing through his nervous system like lightning. Again and again, Lily cast the unforgivable, trying to soothe the agonizing hatred in her heart, to no avail. Watching Potter writhe, thought, she knew that nothing ever would.
Not that that would stop her from trying.
"Legilimens," she snarled, meeting Potter's gaze, and forced into his mind every memory and nightmare she'd suffered through in Azkaban. Severus, face pale, chest and belly torn to shreds on that hospital wing bed; the shocked look on Black's face as he fell backwards; Lily leaping towards him, her teeth and nails elongating into something feral, something beastly, ripping and rending and tearing at Black's body, blood splattering on a face that still wore that haughty, cruel smirk. Underneath her, Potter's screams took on an anguished quality, and her face split into a vicious smile.
"Confringo!"
Lily's head snapped up at the shouted spell, and barely managed to get a partial shield spell up before the blasting curse threw her off her feet, sending her flying into a tree. There was a sickening crack as Lily crashed into the unyielding wood, and her vision went white as pain spiked through her side.
All around her there was shouting, and Lily shook her head, trying to clear her vision and get her bearings. All at once, a hand closed around her arm, and Lily nearly blasted her assailant before recognizing the white mask. "Get up, mudblood, we're retreating," he snapped, and dragged her to her feet. Lily groaned as she felt her broken ribs shift, but managed to get up with the other death eaters help.
The order was closing in, but not fast enough. Still holding on to Lily's arm, the other death eater turned, and disapparated, leaving the battlefield behind.
Lily hissed in discomfort at the feeling of side along apparition with broken bones, but managed to focus enough not to splinch herself, appearing in a luxurious waiting room. She had just enough time to register the sofa they'd appeared next to, before the death eater took two steps away from it, and unceremoniously dropped her onto the floor, wiping his hand on his robes.
Crumpling to the floor, Lily groaned in pain. "Very graceful, Mulciber," she muttered, wand twitching in her hand.
Mulciber ignored her, snapping his fingers as he removed his mask. A house elf appeared, quivering in fear as he proffered a drink tray towards his master. Plucking a bottle from the tray, Mulciber dismissed the elf, and poured himself a glass of wine, acting for all the world like he was alone in his manor.
Dragging herself to the sofa, Lily propped herself up against it, ignoring the disgusted look Mulciber sent her. "Going to share?" she asked dryly, pocketing her own mask.
"As if I'd waste a vintage this fine on a mudblood lush like you," he sneered.
Rolling her eyes, Lily raised her wand to her own side and began running a diagnostic spell, content to ignore her pureblood 'compatriots' as long as they ignored her. It seemed today, though, was not her day.
"You were quite fixated on Potter, back there," Mulciber said, idly swirling the wine in his glass as he went to sit in a nearby armchair. When Lily didn't respond, he tipped his head to the side. "Funny. I'd have thought he'd have much more reason to hate you than the other way around."
"I realize it's been some years, but you do remember whose testimony it was that sent me to Azkaban, right? I have plenty of reason to hate Potter."
"Even so, you're alive, aren't you." Mulciber waved his hand dismissively. "Whereas he..." Mulciber's eyes settled on her in a piercing gaze. "He saw you kill his best friend right in front of him. Much better reason to hate someone than a measly two year sentence in Azkaban."
Lily sighed, her wand trailing over her ribs as the bone knit back together. "It was a fifteen year sentence, and you have until I finish healing to get to the point. Tick tock."
"Very well then," Mulciber sneered. "I find it curious that two students died on the same night. Both killed by wild animals, although only one got caught."
She rolled her eyes again, the insult sliding off her back easily. She was long past the days where such slights could hurt her. "I'm not hearing a question anywhere in that sentence."
Mulciber pursed his lips. "Why did you kill Black, that night? The same night that Severus Snape died?"
Lily stilled, then smirked. "I guess money can buy you two brain cells to rub together. You seem to have a solid theory of your own. Why should I tell you anything?"
"Whatever you think of me, mudblood, he was my friend too."
They sat in silence for a long few minutes, until Lily's ribs were fully healed. And still, she sat there on the floor of Mulciber's sitting room, mulling over his words.
"It was Lupin, I think. Severus had a theory the marauders—" she spat the name like a curse "—were hiding something in the Shrieking Shack. He was sick every full moon... it wasn't believable."
"I remember." Mulciber said curtly. "Severus was obsessed with finding out what they were up to."
"It was a full moon the night they both died. Black had deliberately let slip how to get into the shack, and Sev..." She swallowed thickly. "I've had a lot of time to think on it—I think Lupin was a werewolf." She'd never said any of this out loud, not since she'd been thrown in prison. And now she was spilling her guts to Mulciber, of all people. "Sev must have caught him after the transformation." Lily laughed dully. "Can you believe, Potter and Black had the audacity to come and talk to me over his dead body. To try and tell me that they were sorry, that they didn't mean to kill him. Like they hadn't been trying to kill him since first year." She shook her head. "Black tried to tell me it had just been a joke."
"So you killed him."
It had been an accident, but she didn't say that to Mulciber. It didn't really matter anymore.
Lily stood, and brushed off her robes. It was time for her to go.
"Evans."
She stilled, stunned at the use of her name. She turned, just in time to catch the bottle of wine Mulciber tossed her way. She glanced at the label, and raised an eyebrow. A fine vintage indeed.
"Go drink yourself into a stupor," Mulciber said dismissively.
Lily met his gaze, and nodded. She raised the bottle slightly. "To Sev," she said softly, and disapparated.
Mulciber sat alone for a long while, before standing and going to the window. "To Snape," he said to no one, and drained his glass.