Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Your Zen Is False
your zen is false
Chapter Four
A Step Back
. ... .
When Lily regains consciousness, she doesn't know how much time has passed. All she knows is that she is lying in a pool of mostly dried blood and the air still hurts. She crawls to a nearby chair in slow stages and pulls herself up - and the cuts on her back break open again, a rush of warmth. She ignores it because she is really starting to get used to the pain and she is zen. Zen.
She manages to stand this time, even though there is a lot of trembling and swaying involved, and she notices for the first time the dark brown that is streaking her inner thighs. She stares at it, touching it tentatively with her fingers. The brown flakes off, and -
She very decisively does not think about it. She searches for her clothes, nausea tight in her throat. Her uniform is pieced together in tatters, but her robe is mostly alright so she slides it on, wincing as the coarse fabric brushes against her abused back. She slips her shoes on sluggishly and takes a moment to lean against the wall (that is stained with a small amount of her blood) and catch her breath before she leaves the room.
What she catches is a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She stares at her sickly white face and wonders for the first time what they are doing. She wonders what the hell got into Bellatrix last night, because it had never been like that before, and she can't remember much but what she does remember does not include the usual redeeming, mind-numbing pleasure. Part of the story is missing, and why...?
She suddenly gets the urge to break the mirror.
Instead, she quietly pushes off the wall and limps to the door. It shuts behind her with a subtle thump.
. ... .
It is a fifteen minute walk through the dungeons. She doesn't know her way around, though - that is why Bellatrix always brings her - and she has been wandering for forty-three minutes when she runs into the last person in the world she wants to see at the moment. She is already in pain, and why does she deserve more? Fuck you too, God is what she thinks when she sees him. (It's not like she hasn't been losing faith since age eleven, though, so the thought is not biting and acidic like it should be - like she wants it to be. It is tired and habitual and a little bitter.)
Severus.
She is dizzy and wishing for a numbing potion and limping heavily. Blood loss is becoming a serious issue at this point, and she wants Bellatrix. (Why did she go so far? Doubts are creeping through Lily's mind, but she is in too much pain to really care at the moment. She pushes them away. Later. She'll think about it later, she tells herself.)
So, yes. Severus is the last person in the entire universe she wants to see. He is clever and observant and too brilliant for her to lie to, and she loves him even though he betrayed her. He was her best friend, after all, and - all she knows, synapses firing at quarter pace, is that it hurts to look at him.
She is distantly glad the dungeons are so badly lit. He can't see what she saw in the mirror.
But the lighting isn't so bad that he doesn't recognize her. "Lily - " and he looks worried for an instant; he really must be worried if he's calling her by her first name, "what are you doing down here?" He seems to recover himself. "Do all Gryffindors have a death wish, Evans?" There is a half-hearted sneer in his voice, but she knows him too well.
It hurts her heart to look at him, so she focuses on the entrancing starbursts in the air between them. "Severus," she greets, and her voice is faint but not obviously so. "How have you been?"
He stares at her. "This is not," he says, his tone faintly incredulous, "the time for polite chitchat. This is the time for you to exit Slytherin territory before Lestrange and Avery find you. They have a nose for mu-ggleborns."
"Why, Severus, I didn't know you cared." Her tongue is heavy in her mouth but the sudden bubble of amusement in her gut is palpable in the air - who betrayed whom? - and Lily does notice the way he stumbled over 'muggleborn.' She doesn't say anything about it, though, and maybe Bellatrix is having more of an influence on her than she thought? (But, no, of course Bellatrix just got carried away. Of course.)
The skinny boy flinches in the wake of the silence. "I don't," he snaps gruffly. "I just don't feel like watching you be played with."
"Oh, Severus." And she laughs so normally - but it isn't the laugh that Severus's blood thrums to. (Severus Snape does not recognize this laugh. He looks closer and does not recognize this girl.) After a beat, she says. "It's all a game, lovely."
His eyes narrow, but the hall is spinning too much for her to care if she has just shown her hand. She doesn't have the energy, as though every word out of her mouth is paid for in thaums of awareness - she doesn't even really remember the words that have just come out of her mouth. She interrupts his thoughts quickly with: "Show me the way out?"
He looks at her again, dark, bottomless (fathomless) gaze unreadable (and she trusted him once and forever but she trusts all the wrong people - all the weak people, the selfish people who don't give enough of a fuck), but nods and begins striding away wordlessly.
She almost gets away with it. But now, as she makes to enter the passage he has just opened for her - now he comes to a halt and instinctively grabs her bicep(secretly in love with her, unable to stop himself from touching her one more time - one last time, he swears on a clover) and she stiffens as his fingers settle into the imprints of Bellatrix's hands, fresh pain immediate and felling. There is a sound that is almost a whimper but not quite, and he pulls his hand away, horrified and confused.
"Lily - "
She cuts a hand sharply, eyes closed against blindness and air tripping through her dry mouth. There is fear and fury and alarm and painpainpain curled in a tight ball in the base of her lungs. Her voice is strangled and foreign to her ears when she says, "Don't." What goes unsaid is: You cut your ties and chose your side and - and you chose, and what you chose was not me.
He stares for a split-second (for the millionth time - one last time, one last time, he swears on a clover) and finds himself mute. He turns around curtly and says, throat thick, "Follow me."
She has managed to get hopelessly lost, so it takes twenty minutes to reach a secret passageway that leads to the second floor. She leaves Severus without a word and heads to the Prefects Bathroom.
He stands in the half-light of the open passageway and looks at the dried blood staining his hand. Lily's blood. (Muddy blood.)
It's all a game, lovely.
But he had chosen, and what he had chosen was not her.
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Chapter Four
A Step Back
. ... .
When Lily regains consciousness, she doesn't know how much time has passed. All she knows is that she is lying in a pool of mostly dried blood and the air still hurts. She crawls to a nearby chair in slow stages and pulls herself up - and the cuts on her back break open again, a rush of warmth. She ignores it because she is really starting to get used to the pain and she is zen. Zen.
She manages to stand this time, even though there is a lot of trembling and swaying involved, and she notices for the first time the dark brown that is streaking her inner thighs. She stares at it, touching it tentatively with her fingers. The brown flakes off, and -
She very decisively does not think about it. She searches for her clothes, nausea tight in her throat. Her uniform is pieced together in tatters, but her robe is mostly alright so she slides it on, wincing as the coarse fabric brushes against her abused back. She slips her shoes on sluggishly and takes a moment to lean against the wall (that is stained with a small amount of her blood) and catch her breath before she leaves the room.
What she catches is a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She stares at her sickly white face and wonders for the first time what they are doing. She wonders what the hell got into Bellatrix last night, because it had never been like that before, and she can't remember much but what she does remember does not include the usual redeeming, mind-numbing pleasure. Part of the story is missing, and why...?
She suddenly gets the urge to break the mirror.
Instead, she quietly pushes off the wall and limps to the door. It shuts behind her with a subtle thump.
. ... .
It is a fifteen minute walk through the dungeons. She doesn't know her way around, though - that is why Bellatrix always brings her - and she has been wandering for forty-three minutes when she runs into the last person in the world she wants to see at the moment. She is already in pain, and why does she deserve more? Fuck you too, God is what she thinks when she sees him. (It's not like she hasn't been losing faith since age eleven, though, so the thought is not biting and acidic like it should be - like she wants it to be. It is tired and habitual and a little bitter.)
Severus.
She is dizzy and wishing for a numbing potion and limping heavily. Blood loss is becoming a serious issue at this point, and she wants Bellatrix. (Why did she go so far? Doubts are creeping through Lily's mind, but she is in too much pain to really care at the moment. She pushes them away. Later. She'll think about it later, she tells herself.)
So, yes. Severus is the last person in the entire universe she wants to see. He is clever and observant and too brilliant for her to lie to, and she loves him even though he betrayed her. He was her best friend, after all, and - all she knows, synapses firing at quarter pace, is that it hurts to look at him.
She is distantly glad the dungeons are so badly lit. He can't see what she saw in the mirror.
But the lighting isn't so bad that he doesn't recognize her. "Lily - " and he looks worried for an instant; he really must be worried if he's calling her by her first name, "what are you doing down here?" He seems to recover himself. "Do all Gryffindors have a death wish, Evans?" There is a half-hearted sneer in his voice, but she knows him too well.
It hurts her heart to look at him, so she focuses on the entrancing starbursts in the air between them. "Severus," she greets, and her voice is faint but not obviously so. "How have you been?"
He stares at her. "This is not," he says, his tone faintly incredulous, "the time for polite chitchat. This is the time for you to exit Slytherin territory before Lestrange and Avery find you. They have a nose for mu-ggleborns."
"Why, Severus, I didn't know you cared." Her tongue is heavy in her mouth but the sudden bubble of amusement in her gut is palpable in the air - who betrayed whom? - and Lily does notice the way he stumbled over 'muggleborn.' She doesn't say anything about it, though, and maybe Bellatrix is having more of an influence on her than she thought? (But, no, of course Bellatrix just got carried away. Of course.)
The skinny boy flinches in the wake of the silence. "I don't," he snaps gruffly. "I just don't feel like watching you be played with."
"Oh, Severus." And she laughs so normally - but it isn't the laugh that Severus's blood thrums to. (Severus Snape does not recognize this laugh. He looks closer and does not recognize this girl.) After a beat, she says. "It's all a game, lovely."
His eyes narrow, but the hall is spinning too much for her to care if she has just shown her hand. She doesn't have the energy, as though every word out of her mouth is paid for in thaums of awareness - she doesn't even really remember the words that have just come out of her mouth. She interrupts his thoughts quickly with: "Show me the way out?"
He looks at her again, dark, bottomless (fathomless) gaze unreadable (and she trusted him once and forever but she trusts all the wrong people - all the weak people, the selfish people who don't give enough of a fuck), but nods and begins striding away wordlessly.
She almost gets away with it. But now, as she makes to enter the passage he has just opened for her - now he comes to a halt and instinctively grabs her bicep(secretly in love with her, unable to stop himself from touching her one more time - one last time, he swears on a clover) and she stiffens as his fingers settle into the imprints of Bellatrix's hands, fresh pain immediate and felling. There is a sound that is almost a whimper but not quite, and he pulls his hand away, horrified and confused.
"Lily - "
She cuts a hand sharply, eyes closed against blindness and air tripping through her dry mouth. There is fear and fury and alarm and painpainpain curled in a tight ball in the base of her lungs. Her voice is strangled and foreign to her ears when she says, "Don't." What goes unsaid is: You cut your ties and chose your side and - and you chose, and what you chose was not me.
He stares for a split-second (for the millionth time - one last time, one last time, he swears on a clover) and finds himself mute. He turns around curtly and says, throat thick, "Follow me."
She has managed to get hopelessly lost, so it takes twenty minutes to reach a secret passageway that leads to the second floor. She leaves Severus without a word and heads to the Prefects Bathroom.
He stands in the half-light of the open passageway and looks at the dried blood staining his hand. Lily's blood. (Muddy blood.)
It's all a game, lovely.
But he had chosen, and what he had chosen was not her.
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