Star Sisters

Chapter XXXVI: Healing and Feeling

Bella’s high-pitched laughter echoed from the walls of the dimly lit room. She was clearly having the time of her life as she threw curse after curse at Charis, who was suspended by invisible, magical bonds. The girl had stopped screaming quite some time ago, however. Her eyes were closed, and the tears on her blood-smeared cheeks had dried, leaving trails down her face. Snape prayed that she had lost consciousness and did not feel the pain anymore.

He had tried to protect her. Heaven knew he had. When everyone present in the room had taken turns to throw curses at her, he had instead cast healing spells and tried to deflect the unfriendly curses. But when Bella had decided that she and she alone was going to torture the girl, he had been forced to abandon his attempts to protect her. Bella would have noticed. So would the Dark Lord. And Snape did not even dare imagine what would happen if the Dark Lord noticed that he, Voldemort’s most loyal servant, was trying to protect Charis. So there he was now, standing among his fellow Death Eaters, desperately trying to look unmoved but at the same time unable to take his eyes off the gruesome scene that was taking place in front of him.

‘Enough now, Bellatrix,’ the Dark Lord suddenly commanded. ‘You want to save some fun for later, don’t you?’

Bella pouted like a spoilt girl but lowered her wand at once. As much fun as it was to torture the little Mudblood that had escaped her clutches once already, she would not defy the Dark Lord.

‘Tell me, Bella,’ Voldemort enquired, ‘how did you manage to get this Muggle filth out of Hogwarts?’

‘I have ... friends in the right places, my Lord.’ Bellatrix smiled and extended her hand. ‘I have not only brought you the Mudblood, my Lord,’ she declared with a triumphant voice, ‘but I also brought you a pureblood.’

The Death Eaters parted and from their midst stepped Morgana. She too was smiling. And she looked proud. She sank to her knees in front of the Dark Lord and kissed the hem of his robes reverently.

‘Indeed, you have.’ Voldemort gestured for Morgana to rise and cupped her chin with his long, white fingers. ‘Are you ready to carry out the task for which you have been destined since the day you were born, Morgana Belakane?’ he asked, his cold voice like the caress of a mid-winter wind.

Red eyes looked deeply into blue. Morgana answered clearly, her voice unwavering. She was not afraid.

‘Yes, my Lord.’

‘Then choose.’

The girl’s eyes travelled over the men before her, and Snape shuddered. He couldn’t believe that Morgana had agreed to this.

How had this happened? Both of the girls were lost. Charis would be dead before the end of the hour, and Morgana had chosen to walk along the path of the Dark. Where had he gone wrong? When had he failed them?

He watched his fellow Death Eaters cast suggestive glances at Morgana. Of course, each of them would want to sire the child that would grow up to be the Dark Lord’s heir.

Yaxley puffed out his chest and ran his hand through his dark hair as he gave Morgana one of his trademark unpleasant smiles. If it were the Dark Lord’s choice, Yaxley would definitely be a candidate. But Morgana barely looked at him. Thank Merlin, Snape thought. Yaxley was a sadist to say the least. Mother of the Heir or not, Morgana would not stand a chance.

Avery was practically drooling. He had wanked himself into a blissful stupor over Morgana’s performance with Bellatrix that Sunday afternoon at Malfoy Manor. Most likely, he had done so many times more since then and would probably kill to be chosen as Morgana’s mate. Avery’s only interest in women was what lay between their legs. And the more sluttish they were the better. After the fateful lunch at the Manor, Avery surely thought Morgana was a deliciously slutty schoolgirl and was desperate for his own piece of the action. Snape wrinkled his nose in disgust at the thought. But Morgana just smiled at Avery and walked on.

She paused in front of a handsome wizard with long, platinum-blond hair and an almost regal smirk on his face. Two pairs of blue eyes locked, and Snape struggled not to yell. Not Malfoy! She mustn’t choose Malfoy! Not again! She might have thought that the blond wizard loved her once, but if she chose him, he would just break her all over again. This time, she might not survive.

The seconds ticked by, agonisingly slowly, as Morgana made her way across the room, now and then casting a glace over her shoulder at Lucius. Did he dare open his mind towards the girl and help her turn away from Malfoy’s mesmerising stare, Snape wondered. Or would the Dark Lord notice?

Then he felt her hand on his bicep. He looked down, and there she was, smiling up at him seductively. No... Surely not... He was acutely aware of all eyes in the room on him as she caressed his arm gently.

Morgana Belakane had made her choice...

* * *
‘Professor Snape? Sir?’

Snape jerked awake. Gone was the dimly lit room, gone were the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord. But Morgana’s hand was resting on his arm, and her blue eyes were looking straight at him, not seductively anymore but concerned.

He shot up from his chair and glared down his nose at her, relieved that the awful scene had only been a dream and at the same time angry that he had fallen asleep in the first place.

He gritted his teeth and damned his weary body as his eyes darted towards the clock on the wall. It was three o’clock in the morning.

He should have listened to Poppy. She had told him that Charis would most certainly not wake up before the early morning and that she would inform him as soon as the girl’s condition changed. But he had refused to retire to the dungeons. First he had been hovering around Poppy’s office, and when the medi-witch had finally retired for the night, he had sneaked into the ward and found Charis still unconscious and Morgana watching over her. Wordlessly, he had pulled up a chair and settled down with a copy of Potions Monthly.

Morgana’s teeth had been working her lower lip, and Snape had known that she wanted answers, that she wanted to know why her friend had been tortured and almost killed by Bellatrix Lestrange. But she had not asked a single question, and towards midnight, she had fallen asleep.

And so had he, obviously. From the pain in his back he judged that he had slept at least two hours. Maybe he had moaned in his sleep? Or even talked? Had that woken up Morgana?

She had withdrawn her hand and backed off, but the look in her eyes suggested that she sensed that something was amiss. Snape scowled. Merlin, if she knew about the contents of his dream.

‘Shocked that your Head of House is human and actually sleeps now and then, Miss Belakane?’ he growled.

If he had meant to scare her away, he had failed. Snape noticed that the second Morgana crossed her arms in front of her chest and smirked. ‘Relieved, actually,’ she said. ‘It seems like the rumours about you being a vampire aren’t true then. Because Professor Lupin once told us that vampires don’t sleep at night.’

Snape’s scowl turned a deeper shade of black at the mention of the werewolf, and he considered deducting House points from Morgana for being cheeky. But she beat him to it.

‘I thought you might want to be awake for this.’ She nodded towards Charis. ‘I think she is coming around.’

‘Waking Madam Pomfrey would have been a smarter move,’ Snape pointed out, his eyes on Charis. Her eyelids were indeed fluttering, and she was moaning softly. She was awake! She had pulled through. The knowledge sent a flood of relief through him.

‘I did, sir,’ Morgana informed him. ‘Poppy said she’d be here in a minute with a potion for Charis.’

In that moment, Charis’ eyes snapped open, and her outcry made both Snape and Morgana flinch. But while Snape stood rigid, unable to do anything else other than stare down at the wounded girl, Morgana moved closer beside her friend and took her hand.

‘It’s alright, sweetie,’ she whispered soothingly. ‘You’re at Hogwarts. Everything’s alright.’

Poppy came bustling around the curtain to administer the potion, and Snape observed the scene in front of him with big eyes. Poppy was doing her job, of course, but what Morgana was doing surprised him no end. Who would have thought that this girl, a girl with a biting wit and such thick armour around herself, held such compassion? The girl that hated to be touched in public and hated any public display of affection was now stroking her friend’s fingers with her thumb and making reassuring noises as Charis groggily blinked her green eyes, looking first at her friend, then the medi-witch, before finally coming to rest on him.

‘Jack...’ Charis whimpered, her eyes becoming wide with panic. ‘Where’s Jack?’

‘Jack is in St. Mungo’s, dear,’ Madam Pomfrey replied gently. ‘He had to be taken to intensive care.’

Morgana squeezed Charis’ hand as she moaned with grief.

‘He’s still alive, child,’ the medi-witch continued. ‘The Healers give me updates every hour. But he’s in a very bad way, and St. Mungo’s was the best place for him. Now, I need you to take this potion, to help you wake up properly.’

The nurse carefully administered the potion to Charis as Snape looked on. The girl was clearly scared, not just for her friend but for what had happened to her. The look of fear in her eyes made his heart clench. This should not have happened!

‘There, that’s better,’ Poppy murmured as Charis finished the vial of potion. ‘It’s perfectly natural to feel groggy for a few minutes, but the potion will help.’

Charis cast her eyes back to Snape. ‘What happened? I-I don’t really remember... Jack and I, we were in a cafe in Diagon Alley, then the next minute we were in a forest...’ Her eyes filled with fear once more as her memories returned. ‘Bellatrix Lestrange was there!’

Snape gritted his teeth as Morgana again made soothing noises to calm her distressed friend. Of course the girl would be confused and want answers. She had nearly been killed, for Merlin’s sake! She deserved answers. But Dumbledore wanted to tell her the truth himself when she was better, and Snape could not reveal exactly what had happened or how he found her, as it would betray his own secret of being a Death Eater.

He exhaled through his nose. His whole life was made up of half-truths, concealment and lies. What difference would one more make?

‘Miss Belakane’s necklace began glowing crimson, after which she sent Silvy to find you,’ he explained. ‘I followed the elf and found you and Mr Morrissey unconscious in the forest. I brought you here, and Silvy took Mr Morrissey to St. Mungo’s.’

To Morgana’s credit, she did not even bat an eyelid at her teacher’s lie. He had already been on his way out of the castle when she had bumped into him, and when she had told him that Charis was in danger, he had seemed to know exactly where to go. How he had known was beyond her, but Morgana knew better than to ask now. After all, Snape had instructed her not to talk to anybody about this afternoon’s events. That seemed to include Charis.

Charis’ brow, however, creased into a frown. ‘But... how did I get to the forest?’

‘That, I cannot say for sure,’ Snape replied. ‘Most probably by a hidden Portkey.’

‘A Portkey... the certificates!’ Charis struggled to sit up, much to the chagrin of the medi-witch.

‘Don’t move, child, you’ll wrinkle your bandages!’ she admonished firmly. ‘You need to rest. All of you do, actually. Five more minutes, then I will have to ask the two of you to leave.’

‘But, Madam Pomfrey...’

Morgana’s protest was cut short by the medi-witch’s stern look. ‘Five minutes, Morgana. Either you are in that bed by then or I will send you down to the dungeons. Is that understood?’

Once Poppy had left, Charis flopped back onto the pillows and looked pleadingly at Snape. ‘Why did Bellatrix take us?’

Snape hated himself in that moment. He hated lying, he hated Bellatrix Lestrange and he hated everything that she had done to the sweet, innocent girl. And as much as he had wanted to stay by the girl’s side mere hours ago, he very much wanted to be alone right now.

‘I do not know, Miss Byrne,’ he snapped. ‘And if I were you, I would take Madam Pomfrey’s advice and rest and not bother yourself with upsetting questions.’

And with that, he turned on his heel and left the hospital wing with his robes billowing, leaving Charis and Morgana with confused looks on their faces.

After a few moments, Charis turned her gaze back to her friend. ‘You... you sent Silvy?’ Her eyes were filling up with tears, but this time not from the pain.

‘The necklace glowed,’ Morgana started, busying herself with straightening the bed sheets. Tears always made her uncomfortable. ‘I knew you were in London, but that was about all. I didn't know how to get to you. So I sent the elf and then informed Snape.’

‘You saved me.’ Charis’ voice wasn’t more than a tearful whisper.

‘Snape did.’

Morgana bit her lip. Somehow she had to tune in with what Snape had said and let Charis believe that all Snape had done was follow the elf. But it was HIM who had saved Charis and Jack. Why would he not take credit for it?

Then Charis started to cry. ‘Oh, Morgana, I thought I was going to die. I thought Jack was dead. Bellatrix... the woman is pure evil. She cut me and laughed at me...’

‘Hush, sweetie.’ Carefully, Morgana put her arm around Charis’ shoulders. ‘We don’t want Poppy to come back, do we?’

‘Bellatrix... she... she broke my wand,’ Charis sobbed. ‘What am I going to do without my wand?’

Morgana wrapped her arms tighter around her crying friend. A broken wand may have seemed like a petty thing compared to almost losing her life, but maybe Charis was not in the condition to think about what had happened to her. Plus, losing one’s wand was, Morgana had to admit, a distressing thing at the best of times. The wand chose the wizard or witch, and formed a unique bond with its owner. A witch or wizard usually had their wand for life, from the age of eleven. Bellatrix’s destruction of Charis’ wand was therefore symbolic and probably one of the most humiliating acts she could have done to her.

‘You can get a new wand,’ she whispered. ‘Once you’re better.’

Charis squirmed in her friend’s arms, and a new wave of sobs shock her body. ‘Jack... I wish I could see Jack...’

‘Jack's being taken care of. I'm sure he'll be alright soon.’ Once more, Morgana started chewing at her lip. Silvy had told her what horrid state Jack had been in. At the moment, she severely doubted that he would be alright. But she couldn’t tell Charis.

‘Tell you what,’ she started instead, ‘once you're better, we’ll go to London and visit Jack and go wand shopping. Doesn't that sound fun? We can have ice cream, and you can go to Flourish & Blotts... Hey, you could show me Muggle London...’

‘Snape knows, doesn't he?’ Charis suddenly interrupted her. ‘He knows why Bellatrix took us.’

Morgana swallowed. Her Head of House always knew a lot of things and very often was around to prevent bad things from happening. But how he knew, she did not know. ‘I have no idea what Professor Snape knows,’ she admitted. ‘I only know he is very worried about you. He was here all night.’

Charis looked up at her friend in surprise. ‘He was?’

‘Of course he was, sweetie. He left only for an hour or so, to inform Dumbledore, Poppy said. He came straight back and wouldn't even go to dinner.’

‘Really?’ Through the hurt came a small bubble of hope. Severus had rescued her after the tip-off from her fast-thinking friend. That was one thing. But to find out he had spent a vigil by her bedside, just like Morgana had, made a small glow spread through Charis’ heart. Dare she believe that he cared for her, just as she still cared for him?

Morgana raised an eyebrow at her friend. ‘No, I am making all of this up,’ she said with an ironic tone but quickly nudged Charis softly as she saw her face fall. ‘Professor Snape wouldn't leave your side, Charis.’

Once more, Charis' eyesight was clouded with tears. ‘And neither did you,’ she whispered and squeezed Morgana’s hand.

Morgana grinned. ‘I had nothing better to do anyway.’

‘Thank you,’ Charis murmured hoarsely, squeezing her friend’s hand in return.

‘You don't need to thank me. That’s what friends are for.’

Morgana let Charis nestle up against her chest and absentmindedly stroked her blonde hair. It felt, in a strange way, good to be able to offer some comfort to Charis. For far too many times lately, she had been the one who had been crying, who had needed someone to lean on. Being there for Charis took her mind off her own problems.

Morgana blinked fiercely as tears started burning in her eyes. She did not know what she would have done if she had lost Charis. With a shudder, she thought about how close Bellatrix Lestrange had come to taking her best friend away from her. What on earth could the dark witch have wanted with Charis?

‘Charis,’ she started carefully. ‘Did Bella say anything? About what she wanted from you? Why she took you?’

Charis shook her head.

‘Could it just have been one of her Muggle hunts?’ Morgana went on. ‘And you and Jack were at the wrong place at the wrong time?’

‘No. No. Snape was right.’ Suddenly, foggy images from the afternoon’s events came creeping back into Charis’ mind. ‘The documents were a Portkey. Jack and I were sitting in a cafe, about to open them together, and as soon as we pulled them from the envelope they turned blue and we got transported to the forest. I didn't even get to see the documents!’

‘What documents?’ Morgana asked.

‘The documents we picked up from the WORM office,’ Charis explained. ‘You know Jack and I couldn't find either the birth or the marriage certificate of my gran on my dad's side? And when Malfoy came for inspection, when I showed him Ravenclaw Tower he basically warned me and Jack not to continue, but without explicitly saying so...’

Morgana flinched as Charis mentioned Lucius Malfoy and that fateful night he had spent at Hogwarts, but she quickly hid away the memories in a dark corner of her mind. Malfoy was not important right now.

‘You know what Jack is like when he gets an idea in his head,’ Charis continued. ‘After Malfoy’s little threat we decided to get the certificates personally from the WORM office to see what the fuss was about.’

‘Shame you didn’t get to read the documents,’ Morgana pointed out. ‘If both Lucius and Bella are so interested in your research, that must mean there is something on your dad's side they do not want you to see. Maybe you’re not Muggle-born after all.’

Charis’ eyes grew wide. ‘You don't think I could be related to... him, do you?

‘To Lucius?’ The mere thought made Morgana’s skin crawl. ‘If you are, I am seriously not going to talk to you again,’ she added jokingly. ‘And it would mean you’re related to Draco. What a disgusting thought.’

Charis wrinkled her nose. ‘Urgh, don't!’

‘Well, you all have that lovely blonde hair,’ Morgana added. She found that when she made jokes about Lucius, it hurt a little less.

The girls both jumped as Poppy pulled open the curtains. ‘I said five minutes, did I not?’ But her frown disappeared immediately as she saw the two girls with their arms wrapped around each other.

‘You should both get some sleep,’ she said. ‘You do not want me to send you to the dungeons and inform your Head of House, do you Morgana?’

‘No, ma’am.’ Morgana grinned. Trust Snape to give her a lecture at this time of day and then deduct a zillion House points.

She stayed seated on the edge of Charis’ bed while Poppy checked the bandages once more. When the medi-witch had left, she hugged her friend tightly. ‘You better not be a Malfoy,’ she whispered.

When she tried to withdraw, Charis held on to her. ‘Thank you, Morgana. For saving me. For being here.’

‘Go to sleep,’ Morgana whispered and awkwardly patted Charis on the back. She did not know what to say.

Once Morgana had returned to her own bed, Charis lay in hers, staring at the ceiling. Her mind was racing. She tried to block out Bella's screams and the memory of the pain and instead focus on the thought that Severus had rescued her and that he'd been by her bedside, just like Morgana had been. Deep down in her heart, if she was honest, she had never given up on Severus. The flame was still burning inside her, no matter how hard she tried to quash it. Did Severus care about her, too? She let the small tendril of hope unfurl in her heart, basking in its warmth as Poppy extinguished the lights in the ward, and her eyes fluttered closed.

* * *
‘Severus,’ came Albus Dumbledore’s friendly voice from the fireplace in Snape’s quarters. ‘You’re up early. Or have you not been to bed at all?’

Snape scowled. Did the old man really think that he would have been able to go to sleep and have happy dreams after everything that had happened over the last twelve hours?

‘I thought you would want to know that Miss Byrne has woken up,’ he said in a sour tone.

‘Ah, excellent. How is the dear girl?’

‘Hurting and confused, of course.’ Snape’s patience was running thin. One more stupid question and he might just say something really unfriendly.

‘Yes, of course.’ Dumbledore took off his purple night cap with the fluffy bobble on the end. ‘Have you written to Charis’ and Jack’s parents yet?’

‘I am about to,’ Snape snarled. Right after I have washed the Dark Lord’s feet and slain all the dragons in Bulgaria, he added in his thoughts. ‘Anything else?’ he asked in a weary tone.

‘Actually, yes, dear boy. You should, of course, inform Filius. After all, the pair belong to his House, and we can trust his discretion. Oh, and Severus?’

Snape’s jaw tightened, but Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled merrily.

‘Go to bed.’

That was the best suggestion Dumbledore had made all year, Snape thought as he let his weary body sink into the eiderdown. His bed had never felt more welcoming. The last twenty-four hours had felt like a week.

He closed his mind to the image of Charis lying bloody and helpless in his arms, but he could not stop thinking of the news about her heritage that Dumbledore had spoken of earlier. Charis was a Black! It almost made Snape shudder. The only Black he had any affinity at all with was Narcissa. She, at least, had beauty, poise and grace, and was unerringly loyal to her family. The rest of them, as far as Snape could see, were inbred, psychotic half-wits. Well, there was Nymphadora, of course. A little clumsy, but a brave little thing nonetheless. Pretty, too. Charis had certainly inherited the famous Black females’ good looks. But she had certainly not inherited the inbred psychosis.

Snape turned over with a snort and fluffed his pillows. Why was he thinking such whimsy? Yes, he had been upset to find her in such a state. Anyone would have been. And it was natural to stay by her bedside, when it was his spell that put her there. Yes, that was definitely it, he thought. It was guilt that had made him act. Nothing more. Definitely nothing more.

* * *
It was late in the afternoon when Snape returned to the hospital wing once more. He had started to hate that part of the castle. Too many times he had visited the ward this year; too many times he had witnessed suffering and the aftermath of barbarity at the hands of his fellow Death Eaters; too many times had it involved those two girls that had started to mean more to him than any other student ever had.

He walked towards Charis’ bed, where he could hear the sound of giggling and chattering behind the drawn curtain, and scowled. As much as he was relieved to hear such happy sounds, they made his headache go from slightly annoying to simply unbearable.

‘I sincerely hope that the two of you have not been having Sillyweed for tea,’ he snapped as he sharply withdrew the curtain from the bed and revealed the sight of Morgana perched on one side. Both girls looked somewhat flushed, and Snape couldn’t help but wonder what exactly he had just interrupted.

‘I have come to inform you, Miss Byrne, that your parents have been told that you are safely at Hogwarts, and there is no need for them to be concerned. For your information, Mr Morrissey's parents have been told the same thing, although he is still in St. Mungo’s.’

‘Safely?’ Morgana piped up. ‘With all due respect, sir, Jack is not exactly doing well.’

Snape scowled. ‘I do not recall having addressed you, Miss Belakane.’

Morgana bit her lip, cursing herself for once more having stepped on Snape’s toes.

‘But, sir,’ Charis said quietly. ‘I... I would very much like to contact my parents.’

‘I am afraid that is impossible for the time being, Miss Byrne,’ Snape started, his voice somewhat softer as he saw the pleading look in Charis’ eyes.

He stepped closer towards her bed and cast Muffliato. What he had to say was not for anyone else to hear. ‘According to the Ministry, the Dark Lord has not returned. Hence there are no Death Eaters. It is important that no one knows about the attack on you and Mr Morrissey.’ He sneered. ‘I do not have them all memorised, but I am sure that there is an Educational Decree that forbids any mentioning of the Dark Lord and his followers. Headmistress Umbridge might have you expelled for conspiracy if she finds that you have written to your parents about having been attacked by Death Eaters.’

Charis’ eyes filled with tears. She very much wanted to talk to her mother at the moment. Not that her mother would be able to anything, but somehow the thought of being in contact was comforting.

‘Do not worry, Miss Byrne,’ Snape continued. He hated seeing the girl in distress. ‘With any luck, Dumbledore will return soon.’

He had already turned to leave when a soft meow made him swirl around again. From under the blanket that lay between the girls had emerged a little white kitten.

‘May I remind you both that this is a hospital wing, not a petting zoo?’ he snapped.

Morgana at once took the blame. ‘It was my idea, sir,’ she confessed. ‘I thought it would cheer Charis up, seeing Lily. She's been ever so good.’

To his credit, Snape did not flinch at the sound of the animal's name. Instead, he strode forwards and picked the kitten up easily by the scruff of the neck, placing it on his outstretched hand, level with his face.

‘Did you not stop to think about health considerations, Miss Belakane? Cats have no place in a hospital. They could spread infections, allergies and germs.’

Morgana had already opened her mouth but thought better of it. Obviously this was one of Snape’s nastier days, and her telling him that Poppy had given her consent would probably not go down well.

‘You might well have endangered Miss Byrne's health further by doing such a thing!’ Snape thundered. ‘Five points from...'

His rant was interrupted by the kitten, which had leaned forwards to rub her cheek against Snape's chin, purring all the while. Snape saw Morgana's mouth fall open and Charis cover hers with her hands. If he wasn't mistaken, the girls had gone misty-eyed and were blushing slightly.

He himself felt a blush rising as he glared at the cat, who was now lightly tapping at a strand of his hair with her paws. Damn the infernal kitten! How dare it upstage him when he was giving a serious talk! He swiftly placed the kitten inside his robes, where Lily mewed sweetly as she was hidden by the billowing black fabric.

‘Five points from Slytherin, Miss Belakane,’ Snape continued, regaining his composure. ‘And Miss Byrne, I will take your animal back to Ravenclaw Tower, where I will ask Professor Flitwick to make sure it stays until you are discharged.’

With a flurry of black robes and a curt swish of the closing curtain, Snape left Morgana and Charis staring at each other wide-eyed and whispering about the scene they had just witnessed.

‘He won’t hurt her, will he?' Charis asked worriedly, chewing on her lip. 'He wouldn't do that, would he?’

‘He's probably gone to the Forbidden Forest to feed her to the Acromantula,’ Morgana teased, to a distressed wail from her friend.

The girls had no need to fear, however. As Snape strode down the corridors which led to Ravenclaw Tower, anyone who had approached him would have thought he had merely pulled his robes around him, with his arms habitually folded across his chest. In truth, Lily was contentedly nestled into the crook of Snape's arm, purring gently, whilst he tickled her chin with a finger. And if anyone happened to look closely at his face from the light of the flames from the torches on the wall, they would have seen that Snape was actually smirking.