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startanewdream · 2 years

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Hey, a guy who suggested that Snape's reactions to Sirius/Lily bond here😅. First of all, THANK YOU so much😭, I'm sure this is going to be an excellent and very satisfying content to read, simply can't wait!

But since you mentioned you don't have all yet, I'd like to suggest one if you don't mind - please include a one where Order members come back from some mission (somewhen around OotP) and Sirius and Lily clean each other's wounds. But since they're too tired for magic they do it old fashioned way which means Lily is touching Sirius' bare chest and Sirius is touching Lily's upper body which has only bra on it.

Of course it's completely platonic for Sirius and Lily because they're completely comfortable with each other (and too worried about each other to think about stuff like this) but OH MY GOD, Snape's reaction at the sight and his inner thoughts would be PURE GOLD.

I know I promise more scenes but I just wanted to post this one sooner because this prompt was far too brilliant (and the other scenes are far less troubled — I think I'm done writing from Snape's pov truly). Fair warning that Snape's POV here is very biased and he doesn't handle it well 😏

Rated M for some cursing. 2k words of something.

***

Lily Potter was hurt.

He shouldn’t have gone to Grimmauld Place. Severus had done his part already; he’d translated Potter’s yells to the Order, had let them know that the brat somehow got in his mind the idea that Sirius Black (Padfoot, his friends had called him, thinking they were so clever with childish nicknames) had been captured by the Dark Lord, and had warned them when the kid had ran off dragging his stupid friends. That was all that was required of him.

He couldn’t know there would be a battle, couldn’t know that Lily Evans would be there fighting a Dark Lord that mostly wanted her dead, and yet—yet Dumbledore had told him, almost challenging to see how he still felt about her, that in the following battle Lily Potter had been hurt.

Dumbledore always called her Lily Potter, an unnecessary reminder that still stung. She wasn’t truly a Potter — she had lived more of her life as Lily Evans than she had ever been married to James Potter.

And if she were hurt—he had never told her how he felt, the lengths he had undergone to prove her his worth, how everything was about her. Lily should know, she deserved to know.

Grimmauld Place was quiet when he entered it. Snape hated that house, that gloomy place that Black owned as the spoiled pureblood he pretended he wasn’t; how hard it must have been, Severus always thought, to grow up with a house-elf tending to your needs, between richness and luxury, knowing his place on society, the eldest son of a noble family—

And probably because he had let his thoughts stray too near Sirius Fucking Black, he heard his loud laugh.

It was enough for the portrait of Walburga Black start screaming. Snape retreated hastily to the first room he found, just as he heard the sound of someone running the stairs.

“SHUT UP!” Yelled Black; there was a flash of light and the sound of the portrait’s screams died.

Snape peaked through the door; Black was still in the stairs, facing the other direction. He was panting, and if for anger or for running down the stairs, Snape could only guess. He wasn’t wearing any shirt, revealing muscled shoulders and back of someone who clearly had too much time to exercise and too little to do; then Black turned around—and of course he was fit, perfect biceps and torso, everything firmly shaped and did he shave his chest or—

And then a grim satisfaction broke through the acid that was bubbling inside him, because Black’s shapely chest was marked with purple bruises, giant spots that had probably hurt him when he had been hit, and how good was that—

“Sirius!”

Black turned again, following the same direction that Snape was now looking at, but from his angle he couldn’t see Lily. She sounded so disturbed…

“Come on! You won’t get away with this.”

Black sighed, shaking his head, but he climbed the stairs again. Severus hesitated for a moment before casting a Disillusionment Charm on himself; it wasn’t his best work, and if anyone would look directly in his direction, they might notice it, but he had to risk it, had to make sure that Lily Evans was fine…

Any worry they might notice him vanished from his mind when he reached the second floor. Black had entered one of the rooms of the house, and Lily was there, pulling him down to sit in the only bed of the room. She didn’t look hurt, though there was dried blood splattered in her jacket.

Snape looked at her, searching in her face for some sign of injury, or maybe that she was under pain, but there was only concern and it was directed straightly at the man that she was making sure was resting comfortable against the pillows of the bed.

“I am fine,” Black insisted, when Lily pulled a cauldron to the bedrest.

“Of course you are,” she answered, flashing him a smile that made Snape’s inside churm. Black wasn’t fine, he couldn’t be with those injuries, and yet he was clearly pretending to look brave for Lily as if she was going to fall for this act—she had to see through him… “If you were good to go argue with that portrait.”

“I hate her more than I hate Death Eaters—and that’s a lot.”

She chuckled; it was a teasing laugh, one that made Black’s lips twitch as if he wanted to laugh as well.

“I mean it,” he insisted, sounding like a petulant child. Snape waited for Lily’s spurn; it never came. “She wasn’t one, but she supported them well enough, raised all properly Black Death Eaters—”

“Not you.” Lily’s voice was shimmering with warmth. “She could never break you.”

Black smiled. “I had a good influence,” he whispered, and then Lily turned her head to look at him. Snape couldn’t see the expression on her face, but he could see how Black’s eyes were shining, standing her gaze; Black looked greedy, demanding. There were only a few inches between their faces.

Snape grabbed his wand, knowing he wouldn’t be able to help himself if Black threw himself over her, but after a moment Lily turned , moving away to bring the cauldron closer; Snape was glad that there was trouble in Lily’s green eyes now. She hadn’t felt comfortable with Black’s presence, she was repulsed by him…

“Lay back,” she told Black, and he did what was asked, laying still as Lily sat by his side, swirling the content of the cauldron. She grabbed a spoonful of the potion, a transparent almost-pasty liquid, and placed a few drops over the purple spots on Black’s chest.

He knew that Lily had always been an excellent potion maker, but still he wished that she had mistaken something, that the potion would burn through Black’s skin, melting his abs, unshaping his body, thinning him into nothing—

And for a brief moment, it seemed Snape’s wishes were granted.

“Ouch!” Black twisted in the bed, looking uncomfortable. “This burns.”

“Stop being a child,” answered Lily at once. Her words were scolding, but she sounded more fond than anything. “It will be better in a minute,” she assured, and then, without hesitation, as if that was the most normal thing in the world, she leaned closer, supporting her weight in the bed with one hand and caressing Black’s chest with the other hand.

No, it wasn’t a caress, she was just spreading the potion over his chest, and yet—her fingers were moving softly, smoothly, dancing over his skin. There was a smile on her lips that didn’t belong there; Black sighed contentedly, sinking his head into the pillows and closing his eyes.

“Fuck, this feels good,” he moaned.

“Oh, no more pretending this wasn’t hurting as hell?” She teased, amused.

“Not hell.” Her hand stopped moving for a moment, watching him. Black opened an eye, full of mischief. “Fine, but not a ninth-circle of Hell pain. Maybe a second-circle pain.”

Lily resumed her movement. “You could be in Heaven bliss if you haven’t acted all noble.”

Black opened both of his eyes now, but Lily didn’t meet his gaze; there was a severe frown on her forehead now. Black’s expression softened.

“I had to protect you,” he whispered.

That didn’t appease her. “It’s not your job, Sirius. I can take care of myself.”

“Of course you can, but—” He took her hand, intertwining their fingers, waiting until Lily looked him in the eyes. “I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you.”

There was a long moment of silence. Lily bit her lip and lowered her head, her hair creating a curtain over her face; Snape couldn’t see her expression, but he could see Black’s, and once again, over a thin layer of fondness, Black’s eyes were greedy, lustful, as they moved over Lily’s face, admiring her, desiring her.

That was wrong, repulsive, and Snape wasn’t surprised when Lily hesitated: “Sirius—”

But Black ignored her. “Your turn,” he said, sitting on the bed, and pulling the cauldron to himself.

“I’m—”

“Let me guess, you are fine?” He winked at her. “I saw you wincing there. Left shoulder?”

Lily pulled away from him, crossing her arms; she looked annoyed, lips set in a thin line as if she was just considering not answering at all, but after a moment she sighed.

“Right,” she said, defeated, turning his back to him.

For a moment Snape thought she was staring directly at him, and he didn’t dare moving, but Lily’s eyes moved past him without noticing anything. She raised her hands to remove her jacket, but Black stopped her.

“Let me,” he offered. Lily nodded, just extending her arms to help him. Underneath her jacket, her shirt was soaked with blood. Black hissed. “Fuck, Lils,” and he ripped her shirt, exposing her skin and the black bra she wore beneath it.

She shivered, but made no movement to cover herself, standing half-naked with her bare back to Black. On her right side, from her neck to her shoulder, there was a long scarlet cut, dried blood around it. Sectumsempra, Snape realized with a sudden rush of fury; it had been misfired, luckily, or she would have bleed out by now, but still he promised he would find whoever had done it, not Lily—

And then his gaze fell, following the light of the necklace she wore, to the golden ring that was swinging over her chest. The ring shone, but he forgot it quickly; her skin was cream-coloured, with freckles splattered over her bosom, soft to look; her bra marked her curves, lifted her tits, and how he had dreamed of seeing her like this, of sliding down the strap of her bra to reveal all her beauty to him.

Once again it seemed his wishes were granted, for there was a hand carefully moving the strap of her bra down to the middle of her arm, revealing more of her skin, and something stirred inside him, blood rushing—then the rage renewed, for Black was touching her skin now, applying the potion over her cut, his fingers treading over her skin with far too much intimacy.

“Oh, god,” she mumbled, closing her eyes and arching her neck to give him better access. “I am an amazing potion maker.”

Black snorted; that brought a smile to her lips as if she had expected that reaction. Snape closed his fits, hatred filling him, even though he couldn’t take his eyes off the scene, of how Black’s hand was massaging her shoulder, his finger brushing over her chest, almost touching the exposed top of her tit.

“I would rather you were an amazing dueler,” said Black, voice barely repreensive.

“I am.”

“And how did you get hurt?”

Lily hesitated for a moment. “Bellatrix,” she admitted at last. “Your cousin is a nasty piece.”

“I was dueling her.”

“Yeah, well.”

“Lily…”

She shivered. “She was aiming at your back, you were too close to the Death Veil and—I didn’t think, I had to do something, I—” And then she broke, turning around to face him, her lips trembling. “You nearly died, Sirius.”

“Who acted all noble now?” He asked softly, caressing her arms. “Such a Gryffindor of you.”

“Stupid and reckless?”

“And brave,” he assured, and Lily smiled nervously in answer. “Just don’t die on my account, I could never explain this.”

“No one would blame you,” she assured him, turning around again to allow him to finish applying the potion. "He wouldn't," she added, her voice so low that Snape almost thought he had imagined it.

Sirius sighed. “I know,” he admitted in a low voice. Then he shook his head, a devilish grin taking control of his features as he moved the cauldron back. “Do you remember what you used to do when Harry scraped his knees?”

Lily frowned, thoughtful. “I kissed—” And then Black placed a kiss on her bare shoulder, over her cut. “Sirius!”

Snape waited for a reprimand, an unquestionable reproval of Black’s lack of limits, but Lily was giggling. “This is disgusting,” she said, nothing in her voice betraying any hint of disgust as she brushed the potion out of his lips with the back of her hand.

“You love me,” Black said easily, surely, confidently, and Snape decided he couldn’t hear her confirmation, couldn’t deal with even the possibility that Lily Evans had fallen for Black—somehow that was worse than seeing her with Potter, not him, not Black—

He brushed something on his way out, the sound waking up Walburga Black’s portrait again, and he welcomed the yells, hoping it was enough to dwindle any other sound he might hear in that house again.

#Sirius and Lily #Anti Snape #just to make sure he isn't nicely portrayed here #also I was going to end this with Lily seeing Snape #and then covering herself up because #but I didn't want to interrupt her and Sirius #I could rewrite this from Lily's pov and there wouldn't be an ounce of romance and I love this #Jily if you squint #Lily Potter #Sirius Black #platonic friends #and maybe more

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