Severus adjusted the frayed strap of his battered school bag, half-expecting it to snap under the weight of his heavy books. He could only hope that the information about Greg McMahon's secret meetings with his father would be valuable enough for Lucius to send him some money. With that, he planned to invest in a new bag—and, if there was anything left over, a few pieces of clothing.
The real problem was getting the message to Malfoy. He was instructed not to contact him directly and the fourth-year had no idea when he might see his former housemate next. An inconvenience, especially since Severus desperately needed a few Sickles for a new quill. He had patched up his old, broken one with Spellotape, but it was far from sturdy, and writing with it was an exercise in frustration.
As he made his way from the Ancient Runes classroom to the Great Hall for dinner, the young wizard couldn't help but think about how much he longed for a proper, high-quality quill—like the one Plantier had lent him the day his had broken. The image of the black-haired girl's tear-streaked face flickered in his mind. He had no idea why she'd been crying that time, and, in all honesty, he didn't care. Yet, something about the sight of her jade-green eyes, red and swollen with tears, filled him with a strange, almost ecstatic thrill. It was a confusing sensation, one he didn't have the energy to analyse. To him, Catherine Plantier was merely a nuisance. Unlike Potter and Black, she was tolerable when she kept her mouth shut, but he still wished he could avoid every single Gryffindor—especially Greg McMahon.
Severus sighed heavily, his pace slowing. The cuts from his recent skirmish with the aristocrat had faded, but his pride remained bruised. True to his Slytherin nature, he had pretended to accept Lily's ultimatum about not meddling in her relationship and being happy for her. But pretending and feeling were worlds apart.
'Like I could ever accept her being with another guy!' – the wizard scoffed inwardly – 'I just need to be patient. He can't possibly appreciate the gem Lily is. He'll break up with her eventually, and I'll be there to comfort her.'
A twinge of guilt crept into his thoughts, forcing him to question if taking advantage of Lily's impending heartbreak was truly the right course. But his longing to be with her was too strong, pushing any doubts about his methods aside. In his ideal scenario, she would fall head over heels for him, but deep down, he knew better. His looks, his personality—none of it would ever be enough.
A darker thought slithered into his mind, bringing an image of his mother with it. The idea of manipulating Lily struck a disturbing chord.
'It's not the same!' – he reassured himself, a surge of panic in his chest – 'Lily is not your mother, and you're not your father.'
The mere thought of Tobias Snape twisted Severus' stomach. It felt unreal that the man was gone. Part of him felt a cold, vengeful satisfaction, a release from years of torment. Yet, another part of him couldn't shake the nagging question: Did I kill him? The possibility gnawed at his conscience, each memory of that day sending fresh waves of anxiety through him.
By now, Severus had come to realise that he could somehow control the wind, though the power was erratic and unpredictable. He was no Elementalist, so it had to be something else. But the truth remained: when his emotions overwhelmed him, he became dangerous. And that lack of control terrified him. The more he thought about it, the tighter the knot in his chest became, threatening to spiral him into further panic.
Fighting the urge to vomit, heart hammering in his chest, the Slytherin stumbled into the nearest boys' bathroom. Cold sweat slicked his skin as he splashed handfuls of icy water onto his face, gasping for breath. The shock of the water seemed to help; his pulse gradually slowed. After a few deep breaths, he glanced into the mirror, reassuring himself that he looked no different than usual.
Just as he turned to leave, a faint noise caught his attention. Severus froze, straining his ears. The sound had come from one of the stalls. Cautiously, he approached, peeking inside.
His stomach twisted.
Lily lay sprawled on the grimy floor, her limbs magically bound and her lips sealed shut. She was half-covered in what appeared to be the toilet's contents, completely helpless. Her clothes were dishevelled, and her face and neck were smeared with slurs, scrawled in a brownish-red lipstick: slut, cunt, scrubber. A muffled noise came from her throat, the only sound she could make.
Severus' heart plummeted. Horror, rage, and a sickening fear surged through him. He yanked out his wand, his hands trembling. What if someone else had found her like this? His eyes locked with hers, green and wide with pain, terror, and tears. It felt like a physical blow to his gut. He needed to do something—anything—but he was paralysed. All he wanted was to comfort her, to hold her tight and tell her she was safe. But what if he made things worse? What if he frightened her even more?
'I need help!' – the wizard thought in utter panic and bolted out of the bathroom like a madman. He sprinted down the corridor, rounded a corner, and nearly collided with Catherine Plantier, who was trudging toward the Great Hall, her eyes fixed on a piece of parchment.
"Quickly!" - he panted, grabbing her wrist and yanking her in the direction he'd come from - "You have to come with me!"
"Are you fucking nuts?!" – Catherine snapped, stumbling as she tried to pull away, but his grip was iron-strong.
"Lily's hurt!" – he choked out, his voice almost breaking. That was enough. The girl stopped resisting, her expression shifting from irritation to shock as she followed him without another word, not even hesitating when he dragged her into the boys' bathroom.
She quickly assessed the situation, drew her wand and pointed it towards the other girl. "Finite Incantatem!"
Lily's limbs twitched as she slowly regained control, her mouth opening with a weak whimper that quickly turned into sobs. Catherine knelt down and wrapped her arms around her friend, unfazed by the mess on Lily's clothes. She patted her back gently, whispering calming words until the redhead's sobs began to subside.
"Snape, make yourself useful. Find a cloth or something to clean her face." – Catherine commanded, her voice like a whip – "It's alright, Lils. Not like it's the first time they've left you helpless in a bathroom, is it?"
"Shut up!" – Severus hissed as he returned with a wet piece of cloth, the torn remnant of his own shirt – "How can you be so cruel to her after everything she's been through?"
To his surprise, Lily let out a shaky laugh through her tears. "It's fine, Sev." - she said, managing a brave smile - "Daisy's right. They try to break us, but they won't succeed. This is nothing."
Catherine shot Snape a smirk as she carefully wiped away the degrading words from Lily's face. The Slytherin watched in disbelief. What kind of crazy attitude was that? He might have expected it from Plantier, but not from Lily. As the immediate panic began to fade, anger surged inside him, threatening to boil over.
"Who did this to you?" – he asked quietly, his voice so soft that it sent a shiver down Catherine's spine. She glanced at the boy and froze; his face was ashen, with lips drained of colour. His black eyes glinted with a darkness that seemed to reach deep into the abyss.
"Some of your lovely housemates, who else?" – Lily replied bitterly – "I've never thought girls could be so cruel to other girls."
"But why?" – Catherine demanded, already running through potential revenge plans in her mind – "Is it because of that Muggle-born bullshit again?"
"Partially." – the other witch muttered, her eyes cast downward – "I think it's more about a Mudblood like me daring to date an aristocrat who 'deserves' a pure-blood girlfriend. I'd assume one of them…"
"I knew it!" – Severus snarled, his voice trembling with rage – "Being with McMahon will only bring you trouble!"
"Cut it out!" - Catherine snapped, turning on him with fire in her eyes – "Who were they? I'm sure Lavinia was part of this! Who else?"
"Drusilla Rosier and Aelia Greengrass." – Lily admitted hesitantly – "But it doesn't matter. I'm not giving them the satisfaction of playing their game. And promise me you won't tell Greg. He'll be livid."
"More than him?" – the other girl asked, tilting her head toward Snape, who had leapt to his feet, murder blazing in his eyes. Before either Gryffindor could react, he stormed out of the bathroom, wand in hand.
'It's strange when he's that mad at other people and not me.' – Catherine thought with a smirk, as she and Lily made their way back to Gryffindor Tower.