There Is No Such Place

Chapter summary: Snape and Lily make an uncomfortable discovery together, Lily makes an intriguing discovery alone, and two people get Really Bad News.

See chapter 1 for disclaimers etc. Some author's notes and credits at the bottom.

In the end, they fell asleep in the Trophy Room, curled into a dark, semi-concealed corner. Lily wasn't sure whether they'd really be hidden from anyone who entered, but at least they weren't in the middle of the room.

Severus had spent a long time kissing her, but nothing more. Lily suspected that he was feeling too apathetic to make advances; she was simultaneously relieved and disappointed about this.

Although, she decided on further reflection as she lay, half asleep in the early hours of the morning, mostly relieved. She couldn't imagine facing her mother, knowing that she'd lost her virginity in the Trophy Room. The prospect was almost as bad as Sirius' bed...

That thought made her giggle. Severus stirred.

"Oh," he said. "This floor is cold." Lily stood up, feeling her muscles protest the movement. She reached down and helped pull him to his feet.

"What's the time?" he asked.

She checked her small, Muggle-style watch. "About five am."

"Huh. Hardly worth going back to my dorm."

"I know." She examined her reflection in a nearby cabinet. "Although I really need a bath. A nice, long, hot bath..."

They quietly slipped out of the conference room and began to made their way up to the prefects' bathrooms. The halls were quiet, but not completely deserted. They had to duck behind some tapestries to avoid the sleepy Hufflepuff Quidditch team as the students trooped downstairs for an early morning practice.

On the fifth floor, Lily and Severus both froze as they heard voices coming from Professor Spawforth's office. The door was open, and Lily could see shadows moving within. There was no way they would be able to get past undetected.

"...Really think you're overreacting, Anthony," said Crowley's voice. "Severus is--"

Snape looked up at the sound of his name.

Spawforth said something inaudible which made Professor McGonagall to snap, "Anthony! That's completely uncalled for."

There were a number of shadowed alcoves along the corridor. Severus took Lily's hand and pulled her down the hall into the alcove closest to the office.

"...Gambling on the reliability of two teenagers, Albus," Spawforth was saying. A little spitefully he added, "perhaps you should ask Adelaide how that went for her."

There was a moment's silence. Then Crowley spoke, her voice strained. "At least I haven't abandoned an entire cohort of young Slytherins--"

"Adelaide. Anthony." Professor Dumbledore's voice was low and firm. "Enough. I have faith in Miss Evans."

At the mention of her name, Lily abandoned any pretense of not listening.

"Do you really think she's dependable, Albus?" said Crowley. "I confess, I have my doubts."

"Of course she's dependable," snapped McGonagall. Lily had the impression that she wasn't much of a morning person. "Although I think it's a bit much that we expect her to fulfill expectations she knows nothing about."

"Expectations," said Spawforth bitterly. "We should have put an end to the relationship as soon as we knew it existed. Not nurtured it on the off chance that Evans somehow reforms the poor, troubled young Slytherin."

In the shadows, Severus clenched his fists.

Spawforth continued, "I'm more concerned that Snape will corrupt the girl."

Lily couldn't believe her ears. What sort of idiocy was this, anyway?

Then they heard footsteps moving up the corridor, towards them.

"Come on, my love, we'll sniff them out..."

Lily forced herself to repress a mad urge to bolt. Severus, obviously fearing that she'd lose control, held her arm tightly.

"Filch?"

"Professor Dumbledore, sir."

"Problems?"

Lily cringed, waiting for Filch to tell Dumbledore where they were.

"It's those boys, Headmaster," Filch said. Lily relaxed, although Snape's grip on her arm tightened. "Potter and his friends, out of their dorms as usual."

"Perhaps they were just getting an early start to the day," suggested McGonagall.

"I've been chasing them around all night, Professor. Running all over the school with that Invisibility Cloak, getting Peeves all stirred up..."

"I'll deal with them after breakfast, Mr Filch," said McGonagall grimly. "If you'll excuse me, Albus?"

"Of course, Minerva."

Professor McGonagall's footsteps retreated. Filch made a clicking noise, summoning Mrs Norris, and the two of them walked away. Spawforth cleared his throat. "Since I'm up, I may as well get to work on those deplorable fourth year essays. I'll see you at breakfast, Albus." Much more coldly, he added, "Adelaide."

They heard his door close.

"Albus--" Crowley said.

"Adelaide, I know you and Miss Evans have had their differences--"

"It's not about that. Well, I wouldn't be asking if she hadn't -- Albus, I hate to do this, but I have to, he needs -- he wants me to ask to you speak to Nicholas Flamel."

"Ah. I was afraid that would come up."

"I'll tell him you said no, then." She sounded both resigned and hopeful, as though hoping that she'd wrongly anticipated rejection.

"I believe that would be a good idea."

Crowley sighed softly. "Albus, please -- I hate to see him like this, and--"

"Adelaide." Dumbledore's voice was heartbreakingly gentle. "I cannot condone his lifestyle, or the way he uses you to maintain it."

"It's not like that."

"No. It never is."

"You allowed me to have students make the Longaevitas Potion."

"I wanted to see what would happen."

"Then it was just -- just a test?" Crowley sounded furious. "Who were you testing? Snape? Evans? Me?"

"Professor Crowley. Please tell Jerome that I will not act as a go-between for himself and the Flamels. Nor will I permit him to use you as such." Very softly, he said, "I'm sorry, Adelaide."

"I know."

"Now. Breakfast is still several hours away, and like the erstwhile Mr Potter, I've been up all night. Would you care to join me in a kitchen raid?"

"No. Thankyou, Headmaster."

Crowley departed, her robes swirling. Professor Dumbledore lingered for a moment, and Lily wondered if he knew they were there. But he left without saying a word.

Lily took a step towards the threshold of their alcove, but Severus pulled her back.

"Wait a minute," he said. "In case someone comes back."

They retreated back into the shadows and exchanged a few kisses, but Lily's fear of detection combined with exhaustion to rob them of any passion.

"Lily?" said Severus softly.

"Yeah?"

"They know about us."

"Yeah. I kind of realised that."

He pulled away from her, his eyes glittering in the darkness.

"And they're using you. To manipulate me."

"I know."

He scowled. "Why can't they mind their own fucking business? Why are they so bloody worried about me?"

"I don't know," Lily lied. Cautiously, she said, "I worry about you, too."

"Don't. I can take care of myself."

"Severus--"

"Look, I'm going back to my dorm. Potter can be out all night and only get a slap on the wrist. I don't have that luxury."

"Sev--"

He kissed her fiercely. "I'll see you later."

He left, pulling his cloak around him as if the black fabric could make him invisible. Lily waited a few minutes, and then followed.

In the prefects' bathroom, she sank happily into the hot, soapy water. The teachers' conversation was echoing in her mind, and she considered it as she washed her hair.

It was a strange thought, that she was expected to somehow 'save' Severus. Save him from whom? Himself? Marguerite? Voldemort? Had anyone even used the word 'save' at all? She couldn't remember.

Lily immersed herself in the deep water and opened her eyes, knowing from experience that the magical bubbles and soap wouldn't sting. Strands of red hair hovered around her face, shifting in the water.

And Crowley wanted Dumbledore to speak to Nicholas Flamel. Lily recalled the name from her History of Magic textbooks, although it had never been raised in class. The maker of the Philosopher's Stone. Lily raised her head from the water, flipping her hair back. The mermaid painting behind her squealed in dismay as drops of soapy water rained over the paint.

She didn't think that Crowley was working for Voldemort anymore -- she'd certainly be a little more subtle about it if she were. But she wanted the Elixir of Life for someone else, someone of whom Dumbledore disapproved.

"Husband, father, son, brother, nephew..." Former student, old friend, creditor, lover, stepson, her mind added. Too many options.

Crowley didn't wear any rings, but then, few Potions experts did. And she didn't seem like the maternal type, but that was mere assumption.

Time to find out more about Crowley, then, Lily decided.

As she dried herself, it occurred to Lily that her explorations -- her mind shied away from calling it an investigation; she'd spent enough time feeling like an Enid Blyton character for one lifetime, thankyou very much -- were no less intrusive than the staff's absurd expectations for her and Severus. She dismissed the thought, not liking the uncomfortable feelings it raised. She just wanted to be sure that she could trust Crowley...

***

One pleasant, sunny afternoon in April, Lily and the boys took over a corner of the library. Care of Magical Creatures had been canceled after the kobolds they were studying escaped, and even Sirius was worried enough about his OWLs that he would spend a few hours in the library. Not so worried that he'd cut back on Quidditch practice, particularly grueling since Gryffindor was currently in the lead for the Cup, but nervous.

James had a system, of sorts, for studying: each person took as many clear notes as they could for their best subject, and at the end of the session, everyone shared. Lily suspected that this was part of the reason that none of the boys ever did well at Potions; she was the only one who was definitely passing, and she'd never joined these study groups before. She made a mental note not to depend too much on the others' work.

James was brilliant at Transfiguration, and Remus's knowledge of Defence Against the Dark Arts was rather amazing. Sirius, however, had a lot of natural talent for nearly everything he studied, but never actually worked very hard. Peter, she suspected, could probably be quite good at Potions if he worked at it, but he preferred to concentrate on passing everything else.

Despite her problems with their study methods, the boys were good company. Not even Sirius, quietly humming Bob Dylan songs to himself, could ruin her good mood.

"Lily?" asked Peter, "can I borrow your copy of 'Fantastic Beasts'?"

"Sure." She pushed the book across the table. "What happened to your copy?"

"Werewolf ate it."

The boys chuckled. Lily rolled her eyes and stood up. Madam Pince looked up as she approached.

"Problems, Evans?"

"I need the March 1972 issue of 'Ars Potionis', please. Oh, and maybe April, and October 1974, I think." Journals were kept in a locked room, "away from any grubby students who might not appreciate their value." James' words, naturally.

Pince frowned. "I'm rather busy right now, Evans. I don't want to waste my time getting journals you won't need."

"Then perhaps I could get them myself?" Seeing Pince hesitate she added, "I mean, prefects are allowed into the Restricted Section..."

Madam Pince pursed her lips. "Very well. But don't mess them up, or get them out of order."

"Thankyou, Madam Pince."

The Journal Room was dark and airless after the brightly lit library. Lily paused in the doorway, allowing her eyes to adjust. 'Ars Potionis' took up ten shelves, and she lingered as she went through the volumes. She wasn't obsessed like Crowley or Severus, but she did like Potions. Charms was more fun, but there was something satisfying about seeing strange, often distasteful ingredients transform into something valuable.

In the end, she took the first six issues of 1972, and quite a few from other years. She was returning the unnecessary November 1975 issue to the stacks, when the larger annual edition caught her eye: 'The Apothecaries' Guild Registry: A Guide to the Best Potions Experts in England, and Why They're Better Than You'.

Lily forgot about her journals and pulled the annual out, turning straight to the Cs.

'Crowley, Professor Adelaide M. b.1923. Apprentice 1940; journeyman 1944; master 1946. Professor Crowley currently teaches Potions at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She developed the Salutaris Potion in 1952, refined the Valetudo Draught in 1960 and is currently researching other variations on health-related Potions. When not at Hogwarts, Professor Crowley lives in London with her husband.'

Lily closed the journal thoughtfully. The Longaevitas Potion could be considered a health-related Potion. So could the Elixir of Life, although that technically wasn't a Potion.

Madam Pince cleared her throat pointedly.

"I'll just be a few minutes more," Lily said quickly.

On impulse, she re-opened the journal and flipped towards the end.

'Snape, Madam Aurelia J. b.1922. Apprentice 1939; journeyman 1942; master 1944. One of the foremost Potions experts of our time, Madam Snape currently works as a researcher for the Ministry of Magic Department of Potions and Magical Draughts.'

"Miss Evans!"

Lily closed the annual and added it to her pile. "Coming, Madam Pince."

She blinked for a few seconds in the suddenly too-bright library, and then carried her load over to the boys.

"Wow," said Sirius. "Give the girl ten minutes' free reign in the journal room, and she turns into a slavering maniac. How many journals is that, ten? Twelve?"

"Fifteen," Peter counted.

"God, Lil, that's positively disturbing," said Remus.

"Oh, that's nothing. This is the interesting one." Lily flourished the 1975 annual.

"Then what are the others for," she heard Sirius whisper loudly as she turned to the Cs, "camouflage?"

"Here," said Lily, rotating the journal so that the boys could read the Crowley entry.

James made the connection first. "Health. Longaevitas."

"Yup. I, um, I overheard Crowley talking to Dumbledore. She wanted him to speak to Nicholas Flamel. It sounded like she was asking a favour for a friend."

"Or a husband?"

"That's what I was wondering."

"Are you sure?" asked Peter. "I mean, we're not supposed to pry into the teachers' personal lives. It's not a rule, but it's one of those things we're expected to do. Personal honour, and all."

Lily blushed a little at that. Eavesdropping was hardly part of an ideal honour code. But then she thought of Severus, who for all his faults, did what was necessary to accomplish his goals. However misguided they might be. Perhaps his cynicism was infecting her, making it impossible for her to accept that Crowley was all right just because Dumbledore did. She hadn't been able to forget that Gibson had been killed by Aurors.

"I'm not sure that matters," said Sirius. "I mean, Crowley's hardly honourable towards us, is she? She's always taking points away on suspicion of misbehaviour. And she must have something to hide -- otherwise she would have told Lily why she wanted that Potion."

"I guess," said Peter. Remus looked unconvinced too, but James just looked curious. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say a word, an owl had swooped in. In the same moment as it dropped a Muggle envelope in Lily's lap, she'd recognised Mariam. She contemplated the envelope with a sinking feeling.

"What is it--?" Sirius asked, but James hushed him.

Lily slowly opened it, and read her mother's letter.

"My grandmother's gone into hospital. They think she only has a week. Maybe two. I, uh, I have to go," she said softly, and made her way towards the door.

"Wait," said James, grabbing her arm. "You look terrible. Um, I mean -- look, I'll walk you to McGonagall's office."

Lily shook her head. "No. I need -- I don't need -- I'll be fine."

James looked hurt, but he stayed where he was, watching her walk away.

Fortunately, Professor McGonagall wasn't teaching. She poured Lily a cup of hot, sweet tea and said, "There's a train to London tomorrow morning. Quite early, I'm afraid, and it's not an express. It will arrive at Kings Cross at 7 o'clock tomorrow evening. We could put you on the Knight Bus, of course, but the train is cheaper." She frowned. "It's Ministry policy to charge extra if the Knight Bus goes into Muggle territory. No, I think the train is your best option."

Lily nodded. She'd been expecting a train journey anyway, a few hours in which she could prepare to face her family.

The train would leave at five am; the professor assured her that a Hogwarts carriage would take her to the station.

"I'm sure I don't need to remind you, Lily, that you will not be allowed to practice magic outside of the school. It would go unnoticed in a magical household, but the Ministry keeps a special watch over Muggle residences..."

"I understand." Lily stood to leave.

"Oh, and Lily?"

"Professor?"

"I'm sorry."

"Thankyou, Professor."

Lily returned to her dorm and pulled out her trunk, wondering how long she'd be away from school. Her grandmother might linger for weeks; she'd heard of it happening before.

Lily pulled out her limited collection of Muggle clothes and spread them out on her bed. Most of her regular clothes were at home, but she had a few things at school. She selected a bright green dress and Transfigured it into a sedate dark grey suitable for a funeral.

In the end, she had a suitcase -- her Transfigured trunk -- containing a few pieces of clothing, but mostly holding books and parchments. It would do; she could borrow clothes from Petunia or her mother. Assuming, of course, that she wasn't too tall now. With that in mind, she balled up a couple of long wizarding-style dresses and stuffed them into her suitcase. The charmed fabric would never need ironing, and she could put up with Petunia's disapproval if she had to.

The boys gave her sympathetic looks when she joined them at dinner. Nancy leaned over and said, "All right, Lily?"

"I will be."

"Owl me if you need anything," said Frank. "I'll talk Madam Pince into letting me send you books if you need them for study."

"Thanks."

Over James' shoulder, she could see Severus at the Slytherin table. He was deep in conversation with Avery and Lestrange, and avoided her eye. Lily briefly considered seeking him out later, but decided against it. She had no idea where he'd be, and with a five am train to catch, she didn't particularly want to spend the night running around the school.

Back in the common room, Lily curled up in front of the fire and thought about Grandma Madison. Her maternal grandmother was very much like Petunia, with whom she got on best. Both were highly critical and oddly snobbish. They didn't want to be around unsuccessful or unattractive people, but they mistrusted those who excelled. Grandma Madison had been told that Lily had won a scholarship to a prestigious Scottish boarding school, and she'd made no secret of her belief that Lily was being given ideas above her station. Whatever that was meant to be.

Grandma Madison and Petunia were the only people in the family who called her by her full name, Liliane. They always used a particular tone of voice that implied that she was somehow at fault just for having a name.

She felt faintly awful for her thoughts, but she didn't feel particularly upset at her grandmother's impending death. She felt nothing at all, really, just numbness, as if any grief she felt was being subsumed by surprise. Her grandmother was dying; one day, her parents would die.

It was a strange, unwelcome thought.

"Hey, Lily."

"Hi, James." He folded his lanky body beneath him and sat down beside her.

"Listen, I'm really sorry about your grandmother."

"Thanks."

"My grandmother's eighty-seven. She lives in Marseilles with her third husband. He's twenty-six." He laughed. "Frankly, I think Mum's a bit embarrassed by her, but I reckon she's brilliant."

Lily wanted to know more about this scandalous relative, but there was a hush as the portrait hole opened to admit Professor McGonagall. Several older prefects stepped forward, but the professor came straight towards Lily and James. Her face was serious, and her mouth was twitching.

"Potter," she said softly, "James. A moment, please."

James, looking rather pale, followed her out. Sirius glanced over at Lily, and she saw her own concern echoed in his face. They'd all seen James get in trouble before. This was different.

This was worse.

James didn't return for over an hour. Lily waited for him in the boys' dorm, sitting with the others in silence. Several times, one of them would open his mouth to say something, but change his mind and close it again.

No one knew what to say.

James returned around ten-thirty. He still looked pale, although his eyes were suspiciously bright. Lily wondered whether she'd looked as disturbingly blank when she'd received the news about Grandma Madison. She didn't think so.

"How bad is it?" Sirius asked.

"Stephen," James said simply. He threw himself down onto his bed and spoke softly and rapidly, as if to keep himself from screaming.

"He worked in a team. They were raiding a house in Hertfordshire, but ... but they were caught. There must have been a traitor, there must have been, it can't have been ineptness ... but they were captured, and McGonagall wouldn't tell me, but I think they were tortured, and the Death Eaters sent his body to my mother by owl post. Seven pieces..."

"Bastards," said Sirius softly.

"My family ... they're all coming back to England for the funeral. Sirius, Mum and Dad want you to come. We're to take the early train with Lily tomorrow ... everyone will be there..."

James took a deep breath, but his exhalation turned into a sob. Sirius stood up and pulled him into a rough, fraternal embrace. The second they separated, Remus and Peter took Sirius' place, exchanging quick, masculine hugs, slapping James' back and gripping his arms tightly.

Lily felt as though she was observing a sacred ritual, too intimate and private for feminine eyes.

No one noticed when she slipped away.

to be continued...

notes and credits:

chapter title: from "Bastard Son" by george: "But not a word now could be tainted".

Crowley's potions all derive their names for Latin words for health. (Sometimes, I think that I only study Latin to add verisimilitude to Potterfic.)

I picked up the apprenticeship-journeyman-master system of qualification from Anne McCaffrey's Pern novels, although she based it on reality. (I couldn't find out how much she'd changed.)

Originally posted to ff.net on June 7, 2002

Feedback to [email protected]
Webpage: http://elizabeth.gatefiction.com/
Lily fic and chapter announcements: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/whiteasphodel/
LiveJournal: http://www.livejournal.com/users/lizbee/