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CHAPTER FIFTY THREE - 🍂 ୧ i don't. . .
hate you ও🦌

IT WAS NOW THE MONTH OF MARCH, which marked the 4th month before the end of the academic year. This was typically the time when students in their 5th and 7th years would begin the preparations for their end-of-year exams, which signalled the culmination of their respective educational stages.

The Marauders, along with Lily, Raven, and Autumn, found themselves gathered in an isolated corner of the vast Hogwarts library, surrounded by towering shelves stacked high with countless books. They had claimed a circular, secluded table as their study nook for the day.

James and Sirius, who often found themselves distracted by even the smallest of things, were doing their best to stay focused on their studies. Their books were open before them, but their attention kept wandering as they found excuses to chat or crack jokes every few minutes.

Remus, sitting next to Peter, rolled his eyes as he watched his friends' antics. "You two are supposed to be studying," he reminded them sternly.

"We are studying," James protested, feigning innocence. "At least, we're making a valiant effort."

Sirius chuckled and leaned back in his chair. "We just believe in taking strategic breaks. After all, our minds can only handle so many historical facts before they start to riot."

Peter snickered, clearly entertained by his friends' behaviour. "Yes, strategic breaks. Not just finding excuses to goof off."

Remus shot Peter a disapproving look. "You're not helping."

Meanwhile, Autumn, who was sitting next to James, rolled her eyes fondly. "Honestly, you two are like hyperactive children sometimes."

James mock gasped, placing a hand theatrically over his heart. "Me, a hyperactive child? I'm wounded by that accusation."

Sirius smirked at Autumn's comment. "Hey, I take that as a compliment. Children are full of wonder and joy. Just like us."

Lily, who was sitting opposite of Sirius, chuckled softly. "Yeah, but children also need naps and timeouts. Maybe it's time for a study break, boys."

James and Sirius exchanged a look of mock disappointment before dramatically sighing in unison.

"You're all such buzzkills," James grumbled, but there was no real malice in his voice.

"Yeah, how dare you take away our source of entertainment during these endless study sessions," Sirius added, feigning indignation.

Remus rolled his eyes but couldn't help a smile. "Merlin forbid we try to be productive for once."

James and Sirius both dramatically placed their heads on the open pages of their books. "Productivity is overrated," they groaned in unison.

Raven chuckled, her eyes glinting with amusement. "You two will whine like this, but when the exams come around, you'll be in a panic and begging us for help."

Sirius lifted his head and gave Raven a cocky grin. "Hey, we're masters at procrastination. We work best under pressure."

"Ah yes, the age-old excuse of procrastinators everywhere," Lily commented, her tone dry. "But somehow, I doubt that's a recommended study method for exams."

James shrugged a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Hey, we've got our unique study methods. Who needs to stick to the recommended ones when ours are so much more entertaining?"

Sirius nodded in agreement. "Exactly. We learn through chaos and humour. It's a special talent we possess."

Peter chuckled beside Remus, clearly enjoying the banter. "You mean the talent of distracting yourselves every five minutes and never getting any work done?"

"Hey, every genius needs their moments of distraction," Sirius protested, feigning offence. "How else are they supposed to maintain their brilliance?"

James nodded in agreement. "Exactly. We're just allowing our minds to wander to stimulate our creative thinking."

Remus rolled his eyes, a hint of amusement in his voice. "You two are a menace to any academic endeavour."

James smirked and stretched back in his chair. "Oh, come on, Moony. You know you secretly admire our chaotic charm."

Remus raised an eyebrow, his expression a mix of amusement and annoyance. "Right, because what I aspire to be is a master at avoiding responsibility and causing trouble."

Sirius chuckled, unperturbed by Remus's remark. "Hey, someone has to keep things interesting around here."

Raven, who had been quietly observing the exchange, chimed in. "Interesting is one way to describe it. Perhaps 'exasperating' would be a better term."

Autumn snickered, her smile widening. "I'd go with 'dramatic.' You two thrive on creating chaos."

James gave an exaggerated sigh, feigning regret. "Ah, we're just misunderstood artists of chaos. It's our duty in life to disrupt the mundane and inject some excitement."

"Excitement, chaos, call it what you will," Lily interjected, her tone dry. "It all boils down to the fact that you two are master procrastinators and experts in finding distractions when you're supposed to be studying."

Sirius gave Lily a lopsided grin. "Hey, we prefer to call it being strategically efficient. Why waste precious time reading dry textbooks when we can engage in fascinating discussions instead? We're multitaskers, you see."

Remus shot Sirius a wry smile. "Yes, because having a detailed discussion on the various methods of pranking Professor Flitwick is crucial knowledge for our exams."

Autumn playfully tossed a crumpled paper at Sirius, a hint of a glare in her eyes. "You can pull all the pranks you want," she warned, 'but keep my Head of House out of them. He's already stressed enough, coordinating the O.W.L.S for the fifth years.'"

Sirius mock gasped, pretending to be wounded by Autumn's playful jab. "But where's the fun in that? Flitwick is such an easy target. And stressing out professors is practically a rite of passage for us."

"Rite of passage, my foot," Raven piped up, amused. "More like a way to test the limits of your Professors' patience."

"We're simply providing them with character-building experiences," Sirius argued, a smirk on his face. "Without us, they'd lead such dull, predictable lives."

"Character-building indeed," Lily interjected, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm sure they're incredibly grateful for your efforts in tormenting them every chance you get."

"See, you're finally getting it," Sirius replied with an air of mock seriousness. "We're doing them a favour, really. A little chaos and drama keeps things interesting around here."

James chuckled, seemingly on board with Sirius's argument. "Exactly. We're just providing them with opportunities to hone their skills in dealing with mischief-makers like us. We're practically training them for the next generation"

Remus rolled his eyes again but couldn't help a small smile. "Oh, yes, they must be eternally grateful for your selfless efforts."

Peter snickered beside Remus, utterly entertained.

The group's lighthearted chatter faded into quiet concentration as they returned to their studies, setting aside their playful banter. Surprisingly, this included both James and Sirius, who, despite their earlier jests on procrastination, found themselves immersed in their studies in a rare moment of focused dedication.

The silence was occasionally broken by the scratching of quills on parchment and the whispered exchange of notes between the group as they worked. Even James and Sirius, true to their unusual display of focus, occasionally paused to compare notes with each other or seek a moment of quiet contemplation as they studied.

At times, Lily, Raven, and Autumn couldn't help but steal glances at the boys, their surprise at witnessing their rare moments of concentration quite evident on their faces.

...

That evening, Autumn was alone, without her usual companions. The Marauders were all occupied with detention, a consequence of a prank that had led to them being caught by Professor McGonagall.

Meanwhile, Raven had chosen to stay in the library, devoting herself to studying until dinner time. Lily, on the other hand, was with Marlene, Mary, and Dorcas, having chosen to spend time with her roommates that evening.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm golden light across the castle grounds, Autumn found herself walking down the corridors alone. Her mind wandered, drifting from one thought to another, as she strolled through the deserted halls.

As she made her way around the castle, she inadvertently collided with Severus, causing them both to crash into each other. Upon impact, a synchronized burst of pain escaped their lips in the form of grunts. While Autumn slowly picked herself up, wincing from the soreness, Severus also tried to get up, but a sharp pain forced him to let out a prolonged groan.

Autumn quickly looked up at Severus, her discomfort momentarily forgotten. Concern etched across her features. "Are you alright?" she asked, her voice laced with genuine worry.

Severus glared up at Autumn from the floor, wincing in pain as he looked at his wrist. "Do I look like I'm okay, Rivers?"

Autumn rolled her eyes but reached out to catch Severus as he struggled to stand. "I was just asking," she said with a hint of irritation.

However, Severus huffed and stubbornly tried to get up on his own, nearly falling again before Autumn grabbed him, but he tried to move his arm away stubbornly.

Autumn's grip on Severus's arm tightened as he stumbled. "For Merlin's sake, just let me help you," she exclaimed, her voice a mixture of annoyance and concern.

Severus's frustration matched hers, evident in his clenched jaw and sharp tone. "I can manage on my own," he protested, but his injury prevented him from easily resisting.

Autumn rolled her eyes again, her patience wearing thin. "Right, clearly you're doing so well on your own," she retorted sarcastically. "Just accept the help, Snape. It's not going to kill you."

Severus begrudgingly allowed Autumn to help him stand, albeit begrudgingly. He winced as he clutched his injured wrist and shot her a glare.

"Oh, is that why you almost fell over trying to get up on your own?" Autumn retorted, her voice laced with sarcasm. "Clearly, the epitome of handling oneself just fine."

"I was just off-balance, that's all," Severus defended stubbornly. "I would have managed."

Autumn raised an eyebrow, her scepticism evident. "Sure, by stumbling like a newborn calf and possibly breaking something other than just your wrist."

Severus's scowl deepened, but he couldn't deny the truth in Autumn's words. His pride, however, wouldn't allow him to concede.

"You don't need to be so condescending, you know," he retorted, his voice dripping with irritation.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Autumn replied, her tone dripping with faux innocence. "I'll try to remember that the next time I see you about to fall flat on your face again."

Despite her sarcastic facade, Autumn's concern for Severus outweighed her annoyance, and she helped him steady himself.

He grumbled under his breath, still stubbornly trying to maintain his aloof facade. But the pain from his wrist, combined with the humiliation of admitting a weakness, made his usual bravado falter. He begrudgingly leaned on Autumn for support, though he did so with a frown on his face.

Autumn suppressed a smirk, silently acknowledging the progress she'd made in getting Severus to reluctantly accept her help. She could sense his ego taking a blow from having to depend on her assistance, but his injury left him with little choice.

"This stubborn pride of yours is going to get you into trouble someday," she remarked, guiding him to stand on hja own.

Severus shot her a glare, his pride still bristling. "I don't need your lecturing," he retorted, his voice laced with irritation. "I can handle things on my own, thank you very much."

Autumn rolled her eyes, a mixture of amusement and exasperation in her expression. "Yes, clearly you're doing an excellent job of handling things on your own right now. You're practically the epitome of self-reliance."

She sighed and pulled out her wand, causing Severus to flinch reflexively. She rolled her eyes. "Relax, Snape. I'm just going to heal you," she assured him.

Severus's expression hardened, his defensive instincts kicking in. "And what makes you think I need your help with that?"

Autumn held back a sigh, her patience slowly wearing thin. "Oh, I don't know, maybe the fact that you're clutching your wrist like it's about to fall off?"

Severus's grip on his wrist tightened as if subconsciously confirming her observation. He clenched his jaw, his stubborn pride refusing to admit his dependence on her.

"I can heal it myself," he protested defiantly, despite the pain etched across his face.

She let out a frustrated huff, her patience nearing its limit. "Are you listening to yourself? You couldn't even stand up without falling over. How exactly are you planning to heal yourself in this condition? You are practically turning pale each second that passes"

Severus stubbornly clenched his jaw, his pain evident in his expression but his stubborn pride refusing to acknowledge his helplessness. He opened his mouth to protest, but a sharp twinge of pain forced a gasp from between his clenched teeth.

Autumn immediately noticed and raised an eyebrow, her expression a mix of irritation and concern. "See, right there," she said, gesturing to his hand. "You can't even speak without wincing in pain, and you still think you can heal yourself?"

Severus gritted his teeth, clearly struggling to maintain his facade of stoicism. His pride was taking a beating with each passing moment, but he couldn't ignore the pain that was coursing through his wrist.

"I've healed worse injuries on my own," he asserted stubbornly, trying to downplay his current predicament. "I don't need your meddling."

Autumn's irritation flared, her patience finally reaching its breaking point. "Oh, for the love of Merlin," she exclaimed, frustration evident in her tone. "You're as stubborn as a mule, you know that? Can you take that blasted pride of yours and shove it aside for just one moment, and let me help you?"

"I've been through hell, Rivers, and should I remind you that half of my injuries throughout the years were caused by your boyfriend and his friends? I can deal with it," Severus snapped, his voice filled with irritation and a hint of bitterness.

Autumn's irritation faded for a moment, replaced by a flicker of guilt. She knew he was referring to James and his pranks along with the others, and she couldn't dispute the truth in his statement.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to maintain her levelheadedness. "Look, I'm not here to argue about the past," she said, her tone softer now. "But you're hurt, Snape. And right now, you need help. Whether you like it or not, you're not in any condition to heal yourself right now."

Severus's jaw clenched tighter, his pride stubbornly refusing to back down. He wanted to argue further, but the pain in his wrist and the truth in her words made his resistance waver.

After a moment of silence, he let out a defeated huff and begrudgingly extended his injured arm towards her. "Fine," he grumbled, his voice laced with reluctance. "Just... get it over with, will you?"

Autumn suppressed a smirk, inwardly satisfied that she had finally gotten through to Snape's stubborn pride. "About time you came to your senses," she remarked, a hint of teasing in her tone.

She gently took hold of his injured wrist, carefully examining the wound. "Hold still," she instructed, raising her wand. "This might sting a bit."

He gritted his teeth in preparation for the pain, his expression a mixture of reluctance and resignation. He silently cursed himself for giving in to her demands, his pride bruised by the necessity of relying on her assistance.

Autumn noticed his expression and raised an eyebrow. "You know, scowling at me won't make this any less painful," she noted dryly.

Her words only made Severus's scowl deepen, his irritation evident. "It's difficult not to," he retorted, his voice laced with tension, "when you're the one making the situation more irritating than it already is."

She couldn't help but roll her eyes at his comment. "Oh, yes, I apologize for being such an inconvenience in trying to help you with your injured wrist," she replied sarcastically. "How dare I, right?"

His scowl intensified, his irritation at her sarcasm now mingled with a hint of guilt. He knew he was being difficult, but his dignity refused to let him admit it outright.

"You're certainly doing a fine job of making it feel like one," he retorted, his voice strained. "It's not as if I enjoy being in pain, you know."

Autumn suppressed a sigh, her patience fraying further. "Well, you have a funny way of showing it," she responded wearily. "I'm just trying to help you, Snape. But if you're going to continue being a pain in the arse, I might as well just leave you here to wallow in your stubborn pride."

Severus's expression flickered with a hint of vulnerability for a moment, his pride crumbling a little further. He couldn't deny the truth in her words, and the pain in his wrist was growing increasingly unbearable.

"Just get it over with," he mumbled, the irritation in his voice softening slightly. "The sooner you fix it, the sooner I can forget this entire humiliating experience."

She nodded, her irritation tempered by a pang of sympathy. Despite his difficult attitude, she felt a hint of pity for his situation.

"Fine, but remember, you asked for this," she warned, a small smirk on her lips.

With that, she pointed her wand at his injured wrist, speaking the incantation under her breath. A soft glow enveloped his wrist and the pain slowly began to subside.

Severus closed his eyes, a mix of relief and discomfort playing across his features as the healing spell eased the pain. The tight tension in his body slowly eased, and he let out a guarded sigh of begrudging gratitude.

Despite his initial resistance, he couldn't deny the relief he felt as the pain dissipated. However, his pride still prevented him from expressing any outright thanks.

Autumn finished the healing spell, carefully examining his wrist to ensure it was fully healed. Satisfied with her work, she lowered her wand and took a step back.

"There," she said, her voice neutral. "Good as new. Though I don't think your ego will let you say thanks, will it?"

Severus's eyes flickered open, his expression guarded as he tested his wrist's mobility. The pain was gone, and it appeared to be fully healed.

He shot a defensive glare at Autumn before responding. "I suppose a thanks is in order," he muttered grudgingly, unable to completely ignore the fact that she had helped him. "...though I wouldn't expect it to go to your head, Rivers."

Autumn rolled her eyes once again, clearly amused by his stubbornness. "Oh, don't worry, Snape," she replied with a hint of mockery, "I won't let your reluctant gratitude inflate my ego. I promise."

She crossed her arms, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. "Though I must admit, you look less like a wounded bird with that expression."

His cheeks flushed with irritation, his pride wounded once again. "Don't push your luck, Rivers," he warned with a scowl. "Just because I'm begrudgingly grateful for your help doesn't mean I've suddenly become a fan."

He gingerly flexed his wrist, testing its functionality without letting his guard down. "And I'm not a wounded bird, for your information," he added stubbornly.

Autumn chuckled, thoroughly amused by his bristling response. "Oh, trust me, I wasn't worried about you suddenly becoming my biggest fan," she replied, her tone playful. "I just find it endearing how fiercely you cling to your grumpy demeanour, even when someone is attempting to help you."

Severus's frown deepened, his irritation now mixed with a hint of embarrassment. He hated when people saw through his tough facade, especially her.

"It's not endearing," he retorted, his voice laced with irritation, "it's a defence mechanism. And it has served me well over the years."

"Ah, yes, a defence mechanism," Autumn replied sarcastically, her tone dripping with mockery. "Because pushing everyone away with your grumpy attitude is such an effective strategy. It definitely screams 'approach me' in a crowd."

Severus bristled, his irritation with her teasing only growing stronger. He hated how effortlessly she got under his skin. "That's the point," he retorted, his voice sharp. "I'm not here to make friends. Pushing people away is preferable to dealing with their inane chatter and empty pleasantries."

Autumn raised an eyebrow, her amusement only growing at his bristling response. "Ah, so you'd rather spend your life alone, surrounded by silence and misery, than risk the possibility of enjoying social interactions?"

She tilted her head, her tone a mix of mockery and curiosity. "Sounds like a lovely existence."

Severus's jaw clenched, his irritation flaring once again at her mockery. "I don't require companionship," he retorted stubbornly. "I've learned that people are unreliable, and connections only lead to disappointment and betrayal. Solitude is preferable to dealing with those inconveniences."

Autumn rolled her eyes, her smirk still plastered on her face. "Oh, how very edgy and brooding of you," she replied sarcastically. "But I suppose it's easier to push people away and claim you're better off alone than actually admitting you're scared they'll hurt you again."

Severus's expression hardened, his irritation with her perceptiveness evident. "I'm not scared," he protested, his voice low. "I'm cautious. And I have every reason to be, given the betrayals and disappointments I've experienced in the past."

"Just like how you didn't hesitate to betray and disappoint those who once considered you a friend?" Autumn said, her expression shifting to a frown as she referred to herself, Raven, Elliot, and Lily.

Severus flinched, a flicker of guilt and remorse appearing on his face before he swiftly masked it. He knew she referred to his past actions, and the reminder stung.

His jaw clenched, his defences rising once again. "I did what I had to do," he retorted, his voice laced with bitterness. "Self-preservation over everything."

She raised an eyebrow, her irritation still evident. "Ah, yes, the classic 'self-preservation' excuse. So convenient how it justifies your every betrayal, doesn't it? And what about loyalty and trust? Or do those concepts not matter when you're too busy protecting your skin?"

Severus's jaw clenched tighter, his irritation with her words growing. He hated how she challenged his choices, how she made him question himself.

"You can't understand," he retorted defensively, his voice strained. "You've never had to make the kind of choices I've had to make. You don't know what it's like to have everything riding on your decisions."

Autumn spoke with a grumble in her voice, expressing frustration, "If you didn't push us away, you wouldn't have been alone."

Severus averted his gaze, a flicker of guilt and remorse crossing his features. He knew she was right, but he refused to admit it blatantly.

"There are things you don't know, don't understand," he replied evasively, his voice laced with defensiveness. "It wasn't that simple."

Her irritation flared once again, and her patience started to wear thin. "Oh really? And what exactly don't I understand, Snape? The art of pushing away those who care about you? Because that's all you seem to excel at."

Severus clenched his jaw, his irritation growing with each word. "You presume to know my motives, to understand the complexities of my situation. But you don't. You're just another naive, idealistic girl who expects the world to be filled with sunshine and rainbows."

Autumn clenched her jaw and strode forward, grabbing onto Snape's robes. "You have no idea the kind of hell I've been through," she hissed. "Let's not forget you levitated me in the hall a few years back, and your so-called friends almost killed me when they used the Imperius Curse and tried to drown me." She paused, her voice seething. "So don't even think about telling me I expect the world to be filled with sunshine and rainbows."

Severus's expression faltered, his defensiveness crumbling for a moment as he struggled for a response. He hadn't expected her to bring up those incidents, to challenge his perceptions so directly.

He opened his mouth to respond, but any words he had died on his tongue. He knew she was right, that his actions had contributed to her suffering. His gaze averted once again, a mixture of guilt and vulnerability in his eyes.

Autumn's irritation softened slightly as she saw the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. It was a side of him she rarely saw, a hint of the remorse and guilt he was trying so hard to suppress.

She loosened her grip on his robes, her expression still filled with a mixture of frustration and sympathy. "You're the one who's naive, Severus," she continued softly. "You think pushing away those who care about you makes you stronger, but all it does is isolate you. It makes you weak."

His expression hardened once again, his defences rearing back up. He couldn't bear the vulnerability he felt, and couldn't handle being seen as weak.

"You're wrong," he protested, his voice strained. "It's a matter of survival. Trust and loyalty are weaknesses, waiting to be exploited. It's safer to rely on myself."

Autumn rolled her eyes, her patience growing thin once again. "That's your problem, Snape," she retorted. "You think being alone somehow makes you invulnerable. But you're just fooling yourself. You're not indestructible. You're just lonely and miserable, pretending you don't care when deep down, you do."

His expression flickered with a mixture of anger and vulnerability. "I don't need your pity," he spat, his voice laced with irritation. "And I don't need anyone. I've survived this long on my own, and I'll continue to survive. You think you know me, but you don't."

Autumn let out a scoff, her irritation growing with his stubbornness. "Surviving and living are two different things, Snape," she retorted. "You can claim you don't need anyone all you want, but deep down, you're dying inside. You just won't admit it because you're too damn afraid to let anyone in."

Severus's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing at her infuriatingly accurate assessment. He hated how she saw through his facade, how she cut right to the core of his fears.

"You don't understand anything," he snapped, his voice strained. "You can spout all the idealistic nonsense you want, but in the end, it's all meaningless. The world is harsh, and people are cruel. Trusting them is a recipe for disaster."

Autumn's irritation flared, her patience finally at its limit. "No, you're the one who doesn't understand, Snape," she practically shouted, her tone laced with frustration. "You're so damn focused on protecting yourself from getting hurt that you're missing out on all the good things life has to offer. You'd rather live a miserable, solitary existence than take a chance on someone."

Severus flinched at her outburst, his vulnerability and frustration warring within him. He hated that she was right, that she saw past his tough exterior to the fear and loneliness he was desperately trying to hide.

He clenched his jaw, his voice low and defensive. "It's not about protection, it's about being realistic. You're deluded if you think the world is some kind of rosy paradise where people only act with good intentions."

"So Rivers, You can hate me as much as you want, but this is the path I chose, and I am not changing my mind," Severus retorted, sneering as he stepped back and turned to walk away. But before leaving, Autumn interjected one last time.

"I don't hate you," she asserted. Severus slowed his strides, her words lingering in his mind. He hated how they pierced through his defences, how they made him question his choices.

He could feel the weight of her words on his shoulders, the echo of her frustration and disappointment in her voice. He wanted to turn around and argue, to lash out at her for seeing through him so effortlessly.

But he didn't. He clenched his jaw and continued walking, refusing to acknowledge the pang of regret that twisted in his chest. He remained oblivious to the curve of his lips that betrayed his inner turmoil between maintaining a stern expression and succumbing to a smile.