Author’s Note: There’s a mature content rating (M) on this story for sensuality and sexual content between two teenagers who are both the age of consent in their jurisdiction. There also references to suicide and its aftermath, though it does not appear on screen. Please heed the warning. This is definitely not a work safe story (NWS).

I am dedicating this one to lilyhbp. She and I were having a discussion over at DeviantArt the other day that reminded me about this story. It’s been hanging about in the back of my mind since last November, and I thought it was about time it be put to paper.

It is loosely tied to “Last First Kiss” and “Always”, but I wouldn’t say that it is a part of that series. More chapters later this week.

Once – Chapter One

The summer had been a long and hot one, and now, as it drew to a close and the nights grew cooler, and the days shorter, Lily Evans couldn’t help but feel a small touch of relief. There had been a time when she had looked forward to her summers, more than she could express. It had meant long days playing in the park or down by the river, cool lemonade in the back garden, and hour after hour in which to just day dream. But summer as an adult held no such pleasures. It only meant having to put up with a sister who seemed to resent her very existence, old muggle friends who could care less that she had returned because they had moved on and made new alliances, and hours of endless monotony, laying on her bed in her room and staring up at her ceiling.

Too much time to think was not a good thing she had discovered. When she had been a child she had spent the empty hours daydreaming or conjuring whole fantasy worlds in her innocent mind. Now the long hot days, and clinging humidity brought fantasies of another kind to her unoccupied mind, ones that were best avoided, especially considering that the object of one was supposed to be utterly abhorrent to her, and the other was lost to her forever. The only positive she could find in it all was the fact that it was her last summer at home. Next year she would have already graduated and be free to go where she wanted and do as she pleased for the summer.

The soft, cool breeze lifting her lace curtains in the moonlight wafted over her body making her shiver, but she didn’t feel like getting up to close it. It felt good. It made her forget the pain in her heart and the almost constant torment in her body as it reminded her of something it needed, something she was beginning to think she might never get the opportunity to give it. Well maybe with James Potter. He seemed almost too eager, but… It wouldn’t really be the same. It would be like eating salad when you were craving chocolate. It could satiate your hunger for awhile, but it would do nothing to ease the craving. She had talked to other girls in her year, subtly probing to discover if they experienced the same, constant, almost painful yearning. They would only look at her oddly. She could only determine that there was something wrong with her.

Leave it to fate to curse her with an ungovernable desire and then give her no one to expend it on. It had started so long ago, she could barely recall now what had awakened it. Perhaps it was a dozen small things. An inadvertent brush of a hand over her arm in Potions; a dark look, so brief she was never quite sure it had actually been there, but so enflaming that it would torment her for hours afterward, an unanticipated kindness, a single kind word, when so many that came from his lips were only angry or bitter. And then there had been his back, bare and scarred and spread out before her two summers prior, and a kiss…more than a kiss…

A sharp hiss brought her out of her reverie. The cat lying beside her was glaring back at her with angry eyes, and she realized that she had been slowly tightening her grip on the poor animal’s fur until her knuckles where almost white. She let go. “Sorry, Mittens.” The cat glared at her and then got to its feet, stretching languorously before leaping over to her window sill and slipping out the window into the tree opposite.

It appeared that everyone meant to abandon her. Her father had been called away on business to London, and her mother had uncharacteristically offered to join him. Of course the moment her parent’s car had rounded the curve at the end of their street Petunia had packed a bag and run off to spend the week with Vernon, and she hadn’t seen her since. It felt odd to have the whole house to herself for a whole week. It so rarely happened. It was rather liberating, but a tad frightening at the same time.

The clock beside her bed read 3:00 am as she stretched out and stared up at the strange dancing shadows cast by the moonlight shining through the leaves outside her window. The limbs creaked softly in the wind and she shivered again. She really should get up and close the window, or at least put on something other than a vest and knickers. She opted for closing the window. Pajamas always got tangled up in the covers.

The grass below was sparkling with dew in the silver light, and the wind seemed to be picking up with each passing moment. Autumn was on its way, that was certain. She shivered again and glanced toward the river, and then suddenly dropped to her knees, ducking her head beneath the sill. Something was moving along the hedge that divided their garden from the river… Something that looked very much like a man.

She wasn’t sure. It could have been a shadow – just a shadow. She had to check. Very slowly she lifted her head, to peak over the edge of the sill into the garden, and then ducked down again, just as quickly. Yes, there was definitely a man in her back garden, and here she was alone in the house with not even so much as her cat for comfort… She scrambled across the carpet and snatched her wand from the trunk at the end of her bed, thanking the heavens that she was now seventeen and legal to use magic outside of school. She’d never cast a killing curse before, and certainly hoped she wouldn’t have to now, but if the man had a gun, if he meant to harm her… She…she couldn’t hesitate…

Gripping her wand tightly, she lifted her head again, just enough to see the hedges at the far end of the garden. The man…no, a boy it seemed - there was something in his tall, lanky form, and hesitant gait that made her think the person to be not much older than herself - was pacing back and forth in front of the hedge, and would stop every so often to stare back across the river. He looked highly agitated, and finally he stopped, gripped his head in his hands and dropped to his knees in the grass. Bloody hell, was the boy insane as well. She really should call the police.

She wished desperately that the clouds would pass from in front of the moon so that she could get a proper look. At that moment she got her wish, and as the moon cast its silver glow over the yard, a strong gust of wind pushed a curtain of dark hair back from the boy’s face and she gasped. Severus. What was he doing in her garden in the middle of the night?

She felt the fear slowly drain out of her. She didn’t know why. If the rumors were true, he could be very dangerous to her, but…he had always seemed to see her as separate from everyone else of her kind. It was as though the white hot intensity of his hatred for all things muggle somehow excluded her. Perhaps it was their shared history. Despite it, she knew she should fear him, but for some reason she couldn’t.

He looked over toward the house, toward her window, right at her. She wasn’t sure if he could see her in the dark, but after a moment he got to his feet and wandered a few steps closer to the house, until he was standing right in the middle of the garden. He stopped, turned as though he were going to go back the way he had come, but then turned back again. He kept glancing up at her window, and it appeared that he couldn’t see her. She assumed from his actions that he was there to see her, but why? They hadn’t spoken in over a year.

The moon disappeared behind the clouds again, and then it started to rain. He stayed rooted to the spot. This was ridiculous. He was going to catch his death. She leaned out the window. “Severus…”

He had been staring down at the ground, but his head shot up at the sound of her voice, every muscle in his body suddenly becoming taut as though he were preparing to bolt. She leaned out a little further, even though it meant her hair was getting wet. “Severus, what are you doing here?”

He opened his mouth, but then shut it again, without a word. She shook her head. “Get in here. You’re going to catch your death!”

He stared up at her a moment more, squinting against the now driving rain, and then walked over to the tree near her window and started to climb up. It wasn’t until he was stumbling through her window that she remembered that she was wearing nothing but her vest and knickers. He slid through her window into a heap on her floor, and then straightened up a little, bringing his knees up to his chest and hugging them close. He was soaked to the bone, and she noticed that he wasn’t wearing any shoes. He stared at her blankly, and even in the darkness his eyes looked glazed.

“Severus, are you high?”

He laughed – actually laughed. But it was a dead, hollow sound that sent a shiver down her spine. “No, but if you have anything, I…I would really appreciate it.”

“No, of course I don’t have anything…” He was shivering and pale, and from what she could tell, he looked a sight. Striding quickly past him she yanked the window shut against the storm, pulled the drape, and walked over to flip on the lamp beside her bed. She gasped at the site that met her eyes.

His white T-shirt was soaked through with blood. “Oh my god, Severus! Are you hurt?” She dropped to the carpet beside him, and grabbed for his shirt, trying to peel it back to get an idea of where the blood was coming from, but he grabbed her hand.

“I…I’m fine…”

“You’re not fine! You’re bleeding and…”

He shook his head. “It…it’s not mine.”

“What?” She snatched her hand away, suddenly feeling ill. “But, I don’t…who then. Whose is it!?”

Oh why had she asked? She most likely didn’t want to know the answer. She should send him on his way right now. She cringed at the thought of him hurting anyone. His hands had always been so tender whenever they had touched her. There would have been a time when the idea of him hurting anyone (well, perhaps with the exception of James and Sirius) would have been totally unthinkable to her, but there was so much blood…

She wasn’t sure but his face seemed to be growing paler by the moment, and he was shivering so hard now that his teeth were actually chattering. She should tell him to leave, she should, but…

Pulling the blanket off the end of her bed she knelt down in front of him, pulled off the bloody shirt and wrapped the quilt around his shoulders. “Severus, why did you go out without your shoes? You’re freezing. You’ll get sick. You really do need to take better care of yourself. You’ve gotten so thin this year.” She could feel his eyes on her as she arranged the blanket about his shoulders but she purposefully avoided his eyes. She didn’t want to look into them, to see any vestige of her old friend. It would be too painful.

Snatching up the shirt she got to her feet. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.” The icy cold of the bathroom tiles against her feet felt good. It cleared her head a little. She examined the shirt in her hand carefully for any holes or tears, but there were none. She dumped it into the bathtub, and the reached up into the cabinet and pulled down a fresh towel.

When she returned, he hadn’t moved at all, but the moment she walked back through the door his eyes returned to hers. She tore hers away and knelt back down in front of him, unfolding the towel and brining it up to dry his hair. He sat perfectly still as she worked, and she could feel his eyes on her the whole time, sending little shivers down her spine.

She made a concerted effort to ignore it. He may very well have just killed someone, and here she was treating him like a little lost puppy. It wouldn’t do. It wouldn’t do at all. She needed to know what had happened. She let her eyes meet his for the first time. They still looked glazed, and she wasn’t entirely sure that he had been honest when he had answered her question from earlier. He looked suspiciously high. “Severus. Whose blood was on your shirt?” He just stared. “Whose, Severus?”

His lips moved a little. “M…Mum.”

“What?” She had thought he had said his Mum, but his father had been dead for over a year, and even when he had been alive he had never beaten her to that extreme.

“Mum,” he repeated.

“Your Mum?”

He nodded once, and then wrapped his arms back around his legs, pulling them close to his chest again.

“I…I don’t understand. What…?”

“She’s dead.” He stated flatly.

“What? Oh my god, Severus, what happened?”

He whispered something she didn’t catch, and she slid over to sit beside him, so that her side pressed up against his. She felt like crying. “Sorry?”

“It’s my fault,” he spoke a little louder this time, and she frowned.

“How could it possibly be your fault?”

He was staring down at his knees. “She…she’s been so depressed since Tobias died, and I. I do my best, but its not me she wants, she… I knew how down she’d been. Drinking all the time, and… It was just a short meeting Lucius said, just an hour or two and then, I could leave, but I…I shouldn’t have gone, not even that long, I…”

“Lucius? Malfoy, you mean?”

He didn’t respond; just let his head drop to his knees. She suspected that he was crying. “Severus…” When he didn’t say anything, she reached out and wrapped her arm around his shoulder. The moment her hand touched his arm her mind was flooded with a rush of images, all of them horrific. She snatched her hand away in shock, but still he didn’t move. Had he intended it, she wondered? Had he intended her to see what she had just seen, or had it been totally involuntary in his traumatized state. They said he was getting very good with the mental arts, and he had always seemed to be able to read her mind even when they were children. Did that mean that he could also insinuate images from his mind onto hers? He shuddered a little beneath her arm, and she let her hand fall back down to his arm again.

The images rose the moment her hand made contact with his flesh, but she let them come this time. Perhaps if she did it meant that she could share some of the weight of the burden. She had no idea, but if he needed someone to share things with, then far be it for her to deny him. She bore the onslaught of images until she bear it no longer, and then she tore her hand away and tightened her grip around his shoulders.

It wasn’t so much what she had seen, though it had been horrible enough, but the fact, that she seemed to be sharing all of the emotions attached to the event as well, just as though they were her own, that truly made it unbearable.

“I’m sorry, Severus.” She laid her head on his shoulder and whispered against his damp hair. He was still shivering, but not quite as badly as before. “I’m so sorry.”

He shuddered and she heard him sniff against his knees. “She…she didn’t even hesitate, just cut so deep the first time, like it was all she wanted, like I was…like I didn’t…”

“You were never ‘nothing’ to her…” she whispered. “She loved you.”

His head shot up, his eyes dark, filled with tears and hate. “What do you know about it? You don’t know a thing about it?!”

She pulled back and just looked at him. He was twisting the blanket so violently between his fingers that she was afraid he might put a hole in it. “I was your friend for five years, Severus. I met your mum, I saw her with you. She seemed…tired, worn out maybe, but I always sensed that she loved you.”

“You don’t know anything about love!” he spat. “You…you and Potter last term strutting around the school as though you owned it! I…I saw the way you looked at him. You fancy him. You fancy him! That…that isn’t love…” he choked on the words as though they made him sick.”

“I wasn’t talking about James, Severus. I was talking about your mum. Your mum did love you.”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Yes, Severus. I know she did…”

“Shut-up!” he suddenly snapped. “Shut-up, shut-up! I… I hate you!”

She didn’t know why, but those words from his lips, even though she knew he was upset and had ceased to be her friend months prior, hurt more than anything else he had ever said to her. “Then…why are you here?”

His eyes blazed with hatred and intense pain, all mixed up together into one unending darkness, and they seemed to burn her, to scorch a gaping wound in her heart that she was certain no amount of time would heal. His eyes filled, and two tears, rolled over to cling to the bottom of his lashes for just a moment before spilling over to slide down his cheeks - and then suddenly he was kissing her.

He had moved so fast, that she hadn’t even had time to put up a hand to stop him. There was no tentativeness in his kiss this time, no hesitancy as there had been two summers prior and a lifetime ago. He seemed, desperate, hungry – no, famished.

She should stop him. He was upset, not in his right mind, and in the morning he would no doubt instantly regret this. She should stop him, but her body rebelled against her mind, as all the old familiar pleasures erupted in her at once, and she suddenly realized why nothing else had seemed to be able to fulfill the screaming need that her body tormented her with day and night. There had never been anything but this. She had never wanted anything before this, and she would never need anything but this.

She let him take her, pushing her back against the wall, his tongue plunging into her mouth almost violently, his hands reaching out for her vest, pulling it off even before her brain had registered what he was doing. The sensation of his icy chest grazing against her warm breasts sent a surge of pleasure through her like nothing she’d ever imagined, and she realized with shock, that she was close to the edge. He had barely begun and already she was there.

The sensation must have affected him in similar fashion because he let out a moan that sounded almost like a whimper and shifted clumsily, trying to pull her closer, the wall behind her prevented him, but still he tried. He moved in, and lifted a leg straddling hers, and then pulled her in, away from the wall and closer to his body.

She could feel him, already fully hard, pressing up against her stomach through his soaked jeans. It had to be uncomfortable. It was hard with the way he was pressing so urgently against her, but she managed to push her hands between them and find the button at the top of his jeans. Prying it open, she pulled down the zipper, and then eased the trousers down over his hips, freeing him at last.

He moaned again, and she could feel him throbbing with need beneath the soft, thin fabric of his underpants. She wondered what it might be like, what it might feel like to touch him there, but…she so wanted to see his face when she did.

“Severus…” She tried to pull away from his lips, but he wouldn’t let her. “Sev…Severus…” She lifted her hands a little to push against his chest. He pulled away from her suddenly, his face flush, and his eyes angry, or…or was it hurt?.

“We…we should move…” she breathed, “To the bed.”

Something slowly shifted behind his eyes. He blinked as though momentarily confused, and then he simply nodded, and slid off of her, letting her get to her feet. She moved over to her bed and peeled off her knickers. It felt oddly natural, and there wasn’t the least amount of shame in it. It surprised her. She had always thought she would be mortified by being completely naked in front of a boy, but then this wasn’t ‘a boy’ this was Severus. That was different.

His eyes were locked on the soft cluster of red curls between her thighs, and the angry, famished look had faded to something more akin to awe. She smiled softly. “Are you coming?”

He nodded and then slowly got to his feet. She slid beneath the covers, and then moved over a little to make room for him, but he only walked to the edge of the bed and stared down at her. Perhaps she shouldn’t have stopped him. Perhaps he didn’t want it now.

A sick, cold guilt began to creep over her. He was upset. His mother had just died, killed herself for Christ’s sake, and here she was thinking of nothing but her own desires. If he hated her now, it would serve her right. But then…didn’t he already hate her and everyone like her? Wasn’t’ that why they were no longer friends?

She rolled onto her side and propped herself up on one elbow. “You okay?”

Slowly he began to peel the wet jeans from his body. She noticed that he wasn’t as hard as he had been. Leaving the jeans in a wet heap on the floor, he hooked a thumb in the waist of his underpants and then stopped. He reached over for the lamp beside her bed. She wanted to stop him, but restrained herself. He shut it off, and she heard the soft sound of his underpants hitting the floor. He climbed in beside her.

She slid up next to him eagerly. His body was still so cold despite the flushed look of him, and it sent a little chill through her as she pressed her body up against the full, icy length of him. Lifting a hand to brush the damp hair out of his eyes, she then brought it down to cradle his face in the darkness. “I’m sorry. I…I shouldn’t have let you do that. You’re upset and I…I’m sorry, Severus.” He didn’t say anything, just pulled himself closer to her. She could feel the warmth between his legs, it was the only warm part of him. It twitched against her thigh and she shivered again.

“Am I making you cold?” he asked, as though he’d not even heard what she had just said.

She shook her head. “No.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded. “I’m sure.” She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him as close as she could manage. “You are cold though. I…I think you might be in shock.”

“I shouldn’t have come here…” Her heart dropped. “I…I just didn’t know where else to go. There’s no one now, is there…”

“No one?” she asked, feeling suddenly very sad for him. “No one at all? What about Avery and Mulciber, or Malfoy…?”

He shook he head. “Not…not for something like this…”

She nodded in understanding. “But why me?” she whispered.

“Because you were my friend…once. And I…I…” but he didn’t finish, only faded into silence.

“It’s okay. You can stay here, as long as you like. Mum and Dad are gone for the week and Tunie’s off with Vernon. It’d just be us. Did…did anyone help you clean up – at your house I mean?”

He shook his head.

“I’ll go with you tomorrow and help. You shouldn’t have to do that on your own, and I think…I think that the undertakers, they like you to pick out something nice for her to wear.”

“She…she didn’t have any nice dresses. I…I don’t know what…”

”It’s okay,” she whispered, running a hand gently through his hair. “We don’t have to talk about it now. We’ll find something, don’t worry.” She continued to stroke his hair and she felt him relax and slowly warm beneath her touch. “You should try and sleep…”

It felt good to have him tucked up beside her, his head tucked under her chin, his warm breath wafting in small bursts against her neck. It reminded her of when they were children and he used to climb the tree to her window on nights when things were particularly bad at home. He would sleep all night beside her, and then be gone by morning when she awoke. She hadn’t realized how much she had missed it. How very lonely it had been without him.

His breathing slowed and deepened, and she lay there for some time, relishing in the comforting warmth of him as the darkness slowly turned to grey in the encroaching dawn. It wasn’t until the first of the morning birds began to sing cheerfully outside her window that she finally allowed herself to slip into a restless sleep.

Nothing would ever be the same again.