My body trembling, I made my way to one of the private rooms reserved for professors—my father's room.
He was waiting for me inside.
There wasn't a trace of mercy on his face. His pale, colorless features were tight with anger. It was clear—I was about to be punished.
He raised his wand.
Of course, he was going to use the curse he had created… and judging by his expression, this time he wouldn't fully heal me afterward.
He pointed his wand at me without hesitation.
"Sectumsempra."
A scream tore from my lips—I was certain it echoed through the entire castle.
But unfortunately, my father's room was soundproof.
Of course it was. A perfect way to torture me within Hogwarts.
He only healed some of the wounds. The ones on my arms were left as they were. I didn't even have the strength to stand. Especially my wrists—he had deliberately left them untreated, as if to make it look like I had done this to myself.
I suppose he was taking out his anger from the Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson on me as well.
I needed to go to the hospital wing.
But I couldn't. Not like this.
Everyone would think I had hurt myself.
Blood dripped from my arms, but somehow, I had to make it to the Gryffindor common room. If I could reach my trunk, I could at least clean and bandage my wounds. Magic wouldn't work on injuries caused by my father's spell.
As the blood loss worsened, my vision blurred. I couldn't even find my way properly anymore.
That's when I realized where I was—
In front of the abandoned girls' bathroom.
The moment I stepped inside, I collapsed.
The last thing I heard was Moaning Myrtle whining… and the voice of a boy I couldn't recognize.
I couldn't open my eyes.
Soon after, everything went black.
When I woke up, I was lying on something that wasn't exactly comfortable—but not hard either.
It definitely wasn't my bed.
I slowly opened my eyes and looked around.
An empty classroom.
I was lying on a pile of old clothes.
There was a piece of chocolate beside me.
The wounds on my arms and wrists had been cleaned and bandaged.
September ended, and October arrived.
I still hadn't figured out who had helped me.
Meanwhile, the rumors about Sirius Black were starting to get on my nerves. In my opinion, people weren't taking things seriously enough. Why was Albus Dumbledore's protection being underestimated like this?
It seemed to bother Harry Potter more than anyone else—especially since he wasn't allowed to go to Hogsmeade for Halloween.
He quietly returned to the dormitory, while I lined up with Ron and Hermione as Filch checked everyone.
Just a few minutes after leaving the castle, Crabbe, Goyle, and Draco approached us.
"Lily will be coming with us in Hogsmeade," Draco said.
And then I heard his unspoken threat as clearly as words:
If you don't come with me, everyone will find out I was the one who found you unconscious in the girls' bathroom.
Ron and Hermione were just about to object when I spoke.
"It's fine. Just this once."
As Draco, Crabbe, Goyle, and I walked away, Ron and Hermione simply watched us go.
Once we were out of earshot, Draco asked,
"So… where are we going?"
I lowered my voice.
"How do you know I was unconscious in the girls' bathroom?"
He smirked.
"I was the one who took you to that classroom."
Then, casually:
"So, where are we going?"
"To hell, Draco," I muttered, walking faster. They followed anyway.
In the end, I decided to go to my usual place
A run-down little bookshop.
It was so abandoned that it didn't even have a shopkeeper anymore. I spent most of my time there whenever I came to Hogsmeade.
I lifted a loose wooden board just enough to slip through.
"Are you coming?" I asked.
After a brief hesitation, Draco and the others followed. I sealed the entrance behind us.
"I can't see anything," Crabbe complained.
"Stop whining. Lumos Maxima."
The light from my wand illuminated the shop.
Since I came here often, I sat in the one chair that was cleaner than the rest. Goyle used a cleaning charm on a couple of others, and they sat down.
Draco looked at me.
"Now what?"
"Accio: A History of Hogwarts."
The book flew from the shelves into my lap.
"I'm going to read."
I had barely gotten through a few paragraphs when Draco suddenly snatched the book from my hands.
"Snape. We need to talk. Crabbe, Goyle—you can go wander around, but stay away from this side."
Once they left, Draco stepped closer.
"Are you hurting yourself, Snape? Why?"
"You ask too many questions, Malfoy. And it's more complicated than you think."
I reached for my book, but he held it just out of my reach.
"Give it back."
I knew I had to stay calm.
"Come on, Malfoy… please?"
"You need to stop doing this to yourself. You're hurting people who care about you!"
His voice wavered.
Then he pulled me into a tight hug.
"I'll do anything. Just… stop hurting yourself."
"I wasn't…"
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
Damn it.
Draco's expression darkened instantly.
"Who's doing this to you?!"
I stayed silent.
"Tell me a name, Lily," he said, almost pleading.
I used that moment to push him away, rising to my feet with forced anger.
"How dare you call me by my name, Malfoy?!"
And then I stormed out of the shop.
I probably wouldn't be able to come back here again.
It wasn't mine anymore.
Not after Draco Malfoy—of all people—had turned it into something else with his ridiculous, emotional outburst.
If he hadn't been my father's godson…
I don't even want to imagine what I would have done to him.