Chapter Text
November, 1981
I love you.
Severus had only ever said those three stupid words to two people before. His Mum, who was dead, and Lily, who… well.
The noise around him was deafening, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Nothing mattered anymore, nothing except him.
Sirius.
He has the most beautiful eyes in the world, Severus thought, just before a sharp, excruciating pain tore through his chest.
That was it, he could feel it. The final moment.
He swallowed hard, tasting the metallic sting of blood in his mouth.
It hurt so fucking much.
He looked at Sirius, who was saying something, but Severus couldn’t hear a thing. Knowing Black, he was probably cursing Severus for dying before him.
Entitled prick, competitive even in this.
Severus smiled, trying his hardest to ignore the throbbing pain consuming his body.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” Sirius said, his voice a low hiss, deep and furious.
So beautiful.
He looks like an angel, Severus thought.
A fallen one, of course. Lucifer. Lucifer, the most beautiful of God’s angels, who rebelled against the Order and was cast out of Heaven, doomed to lose his wings.
My beautiful angel.
My beautiful star.
Severus lifted his hand, smeared with blood, and touched Sirius’s face. Sirius leaned into the touch,, closing his eyes briefly.
Once a mutt, always a mutt.
“I love you,” Severus said, and it was so easy to say. He never thought it would be easy, not after everything they’d been through.
But it seemed that loving Sirius Black was as easy as breathing.
“I love you,” Severus repeated, a faint smile on his lips.
And then, he closed his eyes.
September, 1971
The first time Severus saw him, he felt as if he was in the presence of something –someone– unique, as bright as the sun. Perhaps more.
It was horrible to look at him; Severus felt his skin crawl and something strange flutter in his tummy. And yet, he couldn’t take his eyes away.
The boy had fair skin, but it wasn’t like his. His was sickly, as everyone said, like he was always ill.
The boy’s wasn’t like that. His skin was fair, pale, smooth. Perfect –he was perfect.
He was exactly what a boy should be. Healthy, with bright eyes (grey? Who the hell had grey eyes?), and dark, perfectly combed hair. He was a boy who was cared for, cared for as if he was the most precious thing.
Severus sat next to Lily, wanting desperately to hold her hand, to reassure her that everything would be fine.
Of course it would be fine, they were going to Hogwarts! They were wizards, and at Hogwarts they’d be sorted into Slytherin and become the brightest wizards the world had ever seen.
People wouldn’t laugh at them anymore, call them freaks. Never again.
But Severus didn’t hold her hand. He’d never touched a girl –apart from his Mum, but she didn’t count, come on– so he didn’t know what it would be like. What to do.
“My whole family have been in Slytherin,” said the boy with the grey eyes.
Severus looked at him, his throat dry, completely ignoring the annoying boy who was also in the compartment – the four-eyes with the messy hair.
“Blimey,” said the four-eyes, and Severus didn’t like his voice. It sounded like the boys who used to push him around the park and call him a freak. “And I thought you seemed all right!”
For a moment, no one dared to breathe.
Lily widened her eyes, watching the two boys carefully. Severus’s heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest.
Oh no.
They hadn’t even arrived at school yet and there was already going to be a fight.
But it was a fight between wizards. That should be interesting, shouldn’t it?
Severus watched the boy with grey eyes, who behaved like he owned the place. He watched closely as the boy looked at the four-eyes, and secretly, he smiled.
Yes, yes!
The four-eyes deserved the beating he was about to get. Severus didn’t even know the boy, but he already didn’t like him.
And then–
Nothing happened.
The grey-eyed boy smiled, a wicked grin, typical of a posh boy who’d always had everything he wanted in life.
“Maybe I’ll break the tradition,” he said in a smug voice. “Where are you heading, if you’ve got the choice?”
The four-eyes puffed out his chest like an idiot and lifted an invisible sword.
“Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart! Like my dad.”
God, so obvious.
Severus rolled his eyes and made a small noise, and the two boys looked at him.
Oh no. That couldn’t be good.
“Got a problem with that?” the four-eyes asked, his nose wrinkling in disgust as he looked at Severus.
Christ. He wanted to dig a hole and bury himself. Or run away and hope he’d never see those boys again.
But Lily was in the compartment, and she was looking at him, her big green eyes studying him. He couldn’t make a fool of himself in front of her.
“No,” Severus said, his voice almost a whisper.
No way.
He cleared his throat and tried to straighten up. He wasn’t inferior to those boys. He was a wizard too. They were equals.
Severus shrugged. “If you’d rather be brawny than brainy–”
“Where’re you hoping to go, seeing as you’re neither?” the grey-eyed boy cut him off, his voice icy.
Ouch. That hurt.
Severus felt his heart tighten; he could feel the shame rising through his body, making him feel small, tiny.
Pathetic, like his father always said he was.
The four-eyes started laughing, like some stupid animal. Severus clenched his fists.
No, no, no.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Hogwarts was meant to be a fresh start, something new. A magical place where he and Lily could be brilliant and everyone would see it.
And they hadn’t even arrived at Hogwarts yet and Severus already felt ridiculous, tiny, horrible, pathetic–
Lily stood up and crossed her arms, glaring at the laughing boys.
“Come on, Severus, let’s find another compartment,” she said, and Severus stood up, shoulders drawn in, wanting to just disappear.
God, he really was pathetic. His father was right, he was an idiot and always would be–
“Oooooo….” The boys mocked, and Severus felt his face heat up with anger. Or shame? Maybe both.
Definitely both.
They started mimicking Lily’s voice in that stupid way boys did, and when Severus headed for the door, the four-eyes stuck his leg out to trip him, and by some miracle he didn’t fall.
He was trembling now, his hands balled into fists as he left the compartment.
“See ya, Snivellus!”
The compartment door shut, and Severus followed Lily down the train corridor, looking for another place.
Stupid boys, Severus thought to himself, his heart pounding in his chest.
He decided he’d hate those two boys. Forever.
(---)
Severus was sorted into Slytherin.
He couldn’t stop smiling, he was so happy! It was the best day of his life.
And then, in a matter of minutes, it became the worst day of his life.
Lily was sorted into Gryffindor. She looked at him with furrowed brows as she went to sit with her Housemates.
Not far from her, the four-eyes boy started talking to her. He’d also been sorted into Gryffindor.
James Potter.
Severus hated him, hated him even more because he was in the same House as Lily.
“Sirius Black!”
The Great Hall seemed to stop breathing when they called the name of the grey-eyed boy. The whole Slytherin table started whispering.
“Why’s everyone talking about him?” Severus asked the boy next to him, who was the same age but looked twice his size. What was he, a giant?
“You don’t know him?” Another boy asked, one sitting in front of Severus. He was a tad weird, blond, with pale eyes.
He seemed posh – they all did. Severus seemed even poorer and more miserable than he already was.
He shook his head, lowering his gaze.
The blond boy snorted.
“He’s Sirius, mate. Sirius Black,” he said, like that explained anything.
Sirius.
What kind of name was that? It sounded very… wizard, no doubt. Severus didn’t like it.
“I’m Avery,” the boy said, grinning. “This one’s Mulciber,” he continued, nodding towards the big boy sitting next to Severus. Then he tilted his head. “And who are you? Everyone knows the Blacks.”
“Severus,” he answered, then cleared his throat and straightened up. “Severus Snape.”
The blond boy – Avery – made a face, as if Severus was a difficult puzzle he was trying to work out.
“Snape? I don’t remember any Snape… do you, Mulciber?”
“No,” the other boy said, the first thing he’d said at all.
Severus opened his mouth to speak, but then the Sorting Hat shouted Sirius Black’s House.
Gryffindor.
The silence was enormous, so heavy Severus could almost hear his own heartbeat.
The Slytherin table went quiet, everyone watching Sirius walk towards the Gryffindor table.
Lily looked confused; she must’ve been just as lost as Severus, but the four-eyes – James Potter – was grinning like the idiot he was.
“Oh no,” Avery said, shaking his head. “This can’t be good. No way.”
Severus thought about asking, but he was already confused and tired, so he let it go.
After a while, things went back to normal, and the Sorting carried on.
Severus watched Lily the whole time, and she looked at him too, though she’d already started talking to some girls around her.
No. No.
He couldn’t lose her, he couldn’t.
So he kept watching, intently.
And it really wasn’t his fault if, sometimes, his gaze drifted to another part of the Gryffindor table, where Sirius Black stared off into the distance, his face stone-cold.
For a moment, their eyes met.
Grey, like a storm, against Severus’s black eyes.
His heart stopped.
Then Sirius looked away, and Severus did too.
And he could swear that sometimes he felt Sirius’s gaze on him. But when he looked back, Sirius wasn’t looking at him anymore.
(---)
November, 1971
The Black family was like royalty in the wizarding world.
Severus found that out while reading in the library, in a gigantic book that told the entire history of the Sacred 28, along with other wizarding families.
He even found something about his mother’s family, and he made a mental note to write her a letter asking for more information. She never told him anything about her family, even though she was a witch.
Avery and Mulciber had been quite patient with him, explaining that it was important – and better – if he used Prince instead of Snape. After all, the Princes were an old family.
“Snape’s too muggle,” Avery said, lying back on his bed, wearing fancy pyjamas with his initials embroidered on them. “Seriously mate, if not, they’ll think you’re a mudblood, and your life won’t be easy here.”
“Yeah,” Mulciber added, tapping Severus on the shoulder. “But you’re nice. Bit odd, but all right, I suppose.”
And just like that he had… friends.
But it wasn’t the same as with Lily.
Severus missed her, all the time. They met during breaks, and talked, and one time Severus was waiting for Lily near the Fat Lady portrait when he saw her walking toward him with one of her dorm-mates, a pretty girl with dark skin and curly hair.
“Lily, why are you with a Slytherin?” the girl asked, completely ignoring Severus’s presence.
“He’s my friend, Mary,” Lily said, and Severus smiled.
Yes Mary, I’m Lily’s friend, he thought, smug. I’m Lily’s best friend!
The girl, Mary, made a face, then shuddered and walked away from them.
“Come on, Sev,” Lily said, nodding towards the stairs. “Potter and Black will show up soon, and I really don’t want to deal with them right now.”
“What’s he like?” Severus asked, following Lily down the corridor. “Black, I mean.”
She looked at him, one eyebrow raised.
“Horrible. He’s mean, and full of himself,” she said. “Still, he’s not worse than Potter. God, I hate Potter!”
Severus laughed, secretly happy that Lily didn’t like those two boys either.
They were everything Severus wasn’t – rich, pure-blooded, and stupid. Unfortunately, they weren’t as dumb as Severus hoped they’d be, which made him hate them even more.
“I’ll protect you from them!” Severus said, and Lily laughed.
“I don’t need protection. I’m a witch,” she said, sticking her tongue out at him.
He wanted to hug her, but he didn’t. Instead, he held his Transfiguration books tighter.
“But we’re friends,” he said, looking into her eyes. “Friends protect each other. We’ll always be friends, right, Lily? Even if we’re in different Houses.”
Lily stopped in the corridor and looked at him, a small smile on her face. Then she did something that surprised him.
She hugged him.
Oh, it felt so good. She smelled so nice – Lily smelled like flowers, and happiness, and everything good in the world.
It was like being hugged by a ray of sunshine, and he couldn’t stop smiling, he was so happy, he loved her. He loved Lily, his Lily!
“Of course, silly!” she said, her voice close to his ear. “We’ll always be friends.”
And Severus felt like he could breathe again.
Maybe everything would be all right, after all.
(---)
January, 1972
Nothing was going well.
His life was horrible, miserable.
At home, poverty and mediocrity waited for him, like two ugly shadows that never went away, sometimes joined by harsh words and heavy fists of the drunken brute he had as a father.
His mother even tried to put herself between him and his father, but that only made his father angrier, and the two of them got beaten even more.
The winter break was awful. Severus only left his room when his father went out to work, and even then, he didn’t dare stray too far from the house.
He just moved from one room to another, reading in the kitchen or in the sitting room instead of reading in his bedroom.
Cokeworth was a bore, and with the snow outside, Severus couldn’t even meet Lily near her house.
So he read. And wrote to Lily. And waited, anxiously, for her replies.
He couldn’t wait to go back to Hogwarts, to be able to use magic again. Christ, he even missed Mulciber’s loud snoring and Avery’s weird little habits.
The Christmas presents from his friends surprised him. Avery had sent a scarf in Slytherin colours, embroidered with magical thread, so warm that Severus wanted to hold it all the time.
Mulciber had sent him three books, and he’d been so happy, a real smile spreading across his face when he saw the note Mulciber had written – in a horrible handwriting, but still.
‘More books because you’re strange and I’m sure you’ve already read the ones you took from the library.’
And he was right, Severus had read all the four books he’d borrowed before the winter break.
Lily sent him a long letter and a painting she’d made. Beautiful.
The painting showed the two of them, her with her long, gorgeous red hair and him with his normal black hair, playing in a huge castle that looked a lot like Hogwarts.
Severus loved it, something in his chest warming with this present. He couldn’t wait to go back to Hogwarts, his happy place.
“Pumpkin pie,” his mother said softly, and he looked up at her.
It was the first Christmas his father hadn’t spent at home, and that was why the house felt calm for once, almost… safe.
“I know you like it,” she said, smiling.
He smiled back and took a slice. It was great –just as good as Hogwarts’.
“Thanks,” he said, and she reached out to tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear.
His hair was long now, almost reaching his shoulders, but he didn’t want to cut it. His father had said it was girls’ hair, a poof thing, but Severus didn’t care.
He saw, in the wizarding world, that long hair meant something else. Important wizards had long hair, and that didn’t make them weak or girlie.
Headmaster Dumbledore and Merlin, for example. Great wizards, so powerful! Severus wanted to be like them one day.
He ate in silence, watching his mother.
She was thin, had the same long face as he did, though her nose wasn’t as big as his. They had the same flat, black hair – nothing shiny or wavy like stupid Black’s, but straight and dull.
“Why don’t you tell me about the Princes?” Severus asked, staring at his mother.
She seemed to stop breathing for a moment, like he’d said something he wasn’t supposed to.
“They were wizards,” Severus continued, and he just couldn’t understand. He couldn’t understand why she never fought back against his father.
She was a witch, she had magic. And his father? His father was a muggle, a common man. Not a drop of magic in him, only hatred and envy.
At the church his father forced them to go every Sunday, the priest always talked about how it was wrong to feel hatred, that good Catholics should only feel love.
Severus only loved two people, and his father wasn’t one of them.
“Yes, but they weren’t good, Sev,” his mother said at last, her voice so low it was almost a whisper.
Why? Severus wanted to ask. Why weren’t they good?
“They… they believed they were better than others.” She shuddered, swallowing hard before continuing, as if just speaking of it brought back painful memories. “Superior.”
Severus frowned.
“Because of magic?” he asked.
She nodded, gently stroking his hair.
He blinked, thinking. Because of that? Only that?
His mother spoke as if it was some terrible sin for her family to think magic made them superior, but Severus knew better.
Being a Slytherin, being in Slytherin, he understood.
He stared deep into her brown eyes, so brown they looked like melted chocolate.
“They were right.”
She pulled her hand back as if she’d been slapped buy something invisible. Like it hurt to touch him.
She refused to answer any more questions about the Princes, and Severus learn not to ask again.
He would find out by himself. If she didn’t want him to know, he’d dig. He was the Prince heir, heir to magic, and they were better because of it.
He was better than a loud, drunk muggle like his father because he had magic. That was the natural order of things, wasn’t it?
Lily didn’t agree. After the winter break, when Severus told her, she got angry with him. He couldn’t understand why, he was just saying the obvious.
“That’s ridiculous, Sev,” she said, and there was hurt in her eyes, they were full of tears.
He hated seeing her sad, so he apologised immediately.
“Just because you come from a magical family doesn’t make you more special than other people,” Lily said. “I didn’t come from a magical family, and magic still runs in my blood. That doesn’t make me better than Tuney or anyone else, Sev.”
He didn’t know how to reply, so he apologised, and they changed the subject.
That day, he learnt not to talk about it again. At least not with Lily.
(---)
October, 1972
Oh great, they are multiplying now, Severus thought, horror seeping into his bones as he watched a miniature Sirius Black walking towards the Sorting Hat.
This one went to Slytherin, which seemed to please the whole House.
Regulus, Sirius’s younger brother.
As the school term went on, the difference between them became painfully obvious.
Where Sirius was loud and took up more space than any human being had the right to, Regulus looked like he wanted to disappear into the floor.
It was impossible not to notice Sirius Black in any room – always being an idiot with Potter and their little gang – but it was… surprising to see Black not being a brutish menace when his brother was around.
Severus had been so shocked the first time he saw it that he actually stopped walking.
It was early October, the autumn chill already creeping in, the leaves beginning to fall around the school grounds.
He was late for History of Magic – one of the few classes Slytherin and Gryffindor shared that term, besides Potions – when he turned a corner and saw Black speaking quietly to his younger brother, who was sniffling and crying.
“It’s all right, Reggie, it’s all right,” Black –Sirius– was saying, patting his brother’s shoulder.
“It’s NOT all right!” little Black whined, like a baby. “Mother’s going to kill me! My first test, and I nearly failed!”
Severus rolled his eyes. All that fuss over a test? Good Heavens.
The Blacks were rich and powerful, surely they wouldn’t care about one stupid exam the youngest hadn’t done well on?
“I won’t let her,” Black said, his voice firm.
Severus had already noticed that when Black was serious, he furrowed his brows like he was concentrating very hard. Ridiculous.
“I’ll study with you, okay? I’ll go to Slytherin’s common room and we’ll study, you’ll see. Next test you’ll nail it, I promise.”
Oh.
Severus tilted his head. It was strange, unnerving, to see Black being… soft.
He never spoke like that. Perhaps to Potter, who knew what idiotic things those two shared between themselves, but Severus had never seen it with anyone else.
Something warm twisted in Severus’s chest. It must be nice to have a big brother, he wish he had one. Maybe then home wouldn’t be so unbearable.
“What are you doing here, Snivellus?”
Severus jumped, realising he’d been caught, and found two pairs of grey eyes staring straight at him.
Yeah, that was… unsettling. Very much so.
He straightened his robes and scowled. He hadn’t yet managed to think of a proper nickname for Black and his pack of Gryffindor idiots – not one that stuck the way Snivellus had. Unfortunately.
“Slytherins don’t cry,” Severus said, and little Black’s lip wobbled.
Black immediately stepped in front of his baby brother, fists clenched.
Oh, brilliant.
Severus turned around and started running before Black could pull out his wand and hex his arse. Even as a second-year, Black already knew some nasty hexes.
Bloody hell, older blokes stayed out of his way. Everyone knew it wasn’t wise to end up on the wrong end of Sirius Black’s wand.
Idiot, Severus thought, sprinting as fast as he could, a deranged smile tugging at his lips.
(---)
Severus couldn’t understand what everyone’s problem was with Potions.
Professor Slughorn was a bit… eccentric – alright, very, the man always seemed to have his head in the clouds – but Potions was amazing.
It was genuinely fun to mix ingredients and watch everything come together perfectly.
Also, it was the one subject where he was, by far, the best in the year. Hell, probably even in the year above.
Lily was extremely good too, but even she made mistakes sometimes. Severus didn’t make any.
But the most satisfying part was seeing the look of pure hatred on Potter’s and Black’s eyes whenever Severus brewed a difficult potion and earned points for Slytherin.
“Merlin’s beard, my boy!” Professor Slughorn said, delighted. “That’s excellent!”
Severus smiled, trying not to look too cocky – and failing miserably.
“If only Snivellus knew a potion to fix that greasy hair of his, huh?” he heard Potter mutter from a few chairs away, but before he could turn around to respond, Lily grabbed his arm.
“It’s not worth it,” she whispered, and Severus held himself back.
She was right, as usual. It wasn’t worth it. Potter was like a bug – a very annoying one –, not worth of Severus’s attention.
“See, Sirius? Snivellus is such a chicken he need a girl to protect him,” Potter went on, and Black laughed.
Enough. That was enough.
He turned around, fuming, his mouth twisting with rage.
“Jealous, Potter?” Severus hissed. “You must be. After all, no girl would go near you since you’re so repulsive.”
“Fuck you!” Black snapped, jumping to defend his animal of a friend, while Potter went red as a tomato, gripping his wand so hard it looked like it might snap.
Severus smiled, smug and cruel, but before they could continue, Professor Slughorn called their attention.
Severus turned back to the front, determined to pay attention for the rest of the lesson. Still, he could feel Black’s gaze burning on his back, but he refused to turn around.
Later that night, when he was studying in the Common Room, he felt someone stop beside him.
When he looked up, his eyes widened.
Head Girl Narcissa Black was watching him, her long blonde hair tied in a high ponytail.
Oh God, was she about to hex him? After all, Black was her cousin.
He didn’t dare to breathe, let alone speak.
She radiated power and elegance, and Severus had absolutely no idea how to behave with her standing next to him. It was like having the Queen of England suddenly pay attention to him.
“Half-blood,” she called, and he looked at her.
It wasn’t unusual for fellow Slytherins to refer to him as a half-blood, but it still stung. No matter how hard he tried, that was all they ever saw in him. A half-blood, tainted with muggle blood.
“Heard you’ve very good at Potions,” Narcissa continued. “You’ve already earned more than fifty points for Slytherin with your brews.”
Severus didn’t know what to say, so he nodded shyly, instinctively trying to make himself smaller to not draw attention.
But, well, it was impossible not to draw attention in the Common Room when Narcissa Black, the most beautiful and popular girl in the entire school, was talking to him.
Oh God.
“Good,” she said, and their eyes met.
Narcissa glanced around, as arrogant as ever, then lowered her head slightly and spoke in a low tone so only he could hear.
“And just a piece of advice,” she went on, smirking. “Don’t let anyone diminish you. Stand up for yourself, because no one else will.”
And then she walked away, moving like a queen among mere mortals, her subjects. And Severus watched her go, mesmerised.
(---)
October, 1973
When he went to Hogsmeade, he was absolutely stunned.
The village was incredible, and he wanted to buy everything! Books, a marvellous cauldron for brewing his potions, everything. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the money.
He hated being poor, hated not having money for anything. Hated having to count every single sickle while his dorm-mates had enough gold for generations.
“This is the one I told you about,” he heard a feminine voice say, and he turned to look.
Narcissa Black was standing behind him, a knowing smile on her lips. She looked… wow.
She had always been beautiful, but it seemed she grew impossibly more stunning.
She looked like a princess. Well, she was practically one.
She’d graduated the previous year, and honestly Severus thought he’d never see her again – their circles obviously would never mix.
She wasn’t alone, though. Narcissa was accompanied by her boyfriend – no, her fiancé – Lucius Malfoy.
Severus went red all over.
Like the Blacks, the Malfoys were wizarding royalty. The richest of the rich. Rumour had it they had so much gold in Gringotts that even the dragon guarding their vault couldn’t see the end of the pile.
And Narcissa and Lucius were getting married that year. It would be the event of the year, shit, maybe the century; the gossip columns wouldn’t stop talking about it.
The royal wedding, where all the most important wizarding families would attend.
Malfoy was tall, imposing, exactly what a proper man was meant to look like. His grey eyes weren’t the chaotic, infuriating grey Sirius Black had, but a different shade entirely – colder, steadier. His long blond hair was so pale it was almost white, and it was tied neatly with a black ribbon.
He was–
He was–
He was handsome.
Severus felt a shiver run through him, and he blinked rapidly, unsure of what to do with himself.
“The potion’s genius?” Malfoy asked, looking Severus up and down. His voice was low, masculine, and it reverberated through every part of Severus’s body.
God, it was hot in there, wasn’t it? Very hot, indeed.
“Hello,” Severus managed, mustering the courage to bow respectfully.
“There’s no need for that,” Narcissa said, chuckling. “Still good at Potions, Severus?”
He cleared his throat and nodded, not trusting himself to speak properly in front of the couple.
“He’s going to do wonders,” she said, now looking at her fiancé. “He’s very, very good.”
Malfoy glanced at him, then at the cauldron on display, his eyes studying Severus carefully.
“Do you want it?” Malfoy asked, and Severus swallowed hard.
“Yes, but… I’ll buy it later,” he answered carefully. He wasn’t about to tell them that he’d never be able to afford that cauldron, not even if he saved every miserable sickle for a year.
Severus wasn’t going to look weak in front of a Black and a Malfoy. He was a Slytherin, he had survival instincts.
They spoke a few more, and then Narcissa and Lucius bid him farewell.
“I’ll keep an eye on you, Severus Snape.” Lucius said, his voice deep.
Severus felt his chest swell with pride, and he smiled, not entirely sure how to handle that kind of attention.
He spent the rest of the afternoon smiling. Not even Potter’s and his gang of delinquents managed to irritate him.
Not even when he saw Black smiling suggestively at Madam Rosmerta, who merely laughed as though she couldn’t believe his audacity. Stupid boy.
But none of that ruined Severus’s afternoon.
He returned to the castle exhausted, but happy, even without having bought anything.
And then, he had a surprise.
On his bed sat the cauldron he’d fallen in love with at the shop.
Severus’s mouth hung open, but his other dormmates didn’t look surprised at all. He stepped closer, afraid to blink and make it disappear – afraid it was all some cruel prank.
But no. It was real. Completely real.
Next to the cauldron, there was a small note. Severus picked it up and read it.
Keep brewing great potions. It’s important to encourage great talents. - LM
(---)
Black was cruel.
Severus watched him the way a scientist observed a rare specimen in its natural habitat.
Something had happened to Black, Severus could feel it. He was… different.
He’d always been a prick, but before he kept mostly to himself, especially when he was alone. But now, now he was different. It seemed that any poor sour who crossed his path on a day he was in a foul mood would feel the same hell Severus felt almost every day.
The hell of having Sirius Black’s attention fixed on him.
He was cruel, he knew vicious hexes, and he knew exactly how to hurt people with his words.
“Yeah, it’s in the family,” Avery said, shuddering. “Salazar, once I was at the Ministry with my Dad and he bumped into Orion Black. Mate… swear to you, I’ve never been so terrified in my life.”
Severus thought it was ridiculous.
Ridiculous how everyone seemed to walk on eggshells around Black. Either they fawned over him as though he were something extraordinary or they avoided him like the plague, no in-between. Ridiculous.
Severus refused to submit to him or show fear. Perhaps that was why he ended up becoming Sirius Black’s favourite stress-relief toy.
Black spilt harsh words, and Severus shot right back.
Black threw devious hexes, and Severus returned in kind.
He refused to lose. Black wasn’t better than him.
If anything, he was a pathetic blood traitor. With a wizarding legacy that strong, all he did was acting like a clown around the school.
Severus loathed him.
Black had been born with every advantage, the heir to the Black Family. And he didn’t behave like it. He strutted bout as though he owned the world, true, but he wasted every bit of his potential.
He never studied for anything, and yet he was always one of the best in their year. He spent his days throwing pranks with Potter and still got away with everything.
He was an idiot, and Severus hated him with every fibre of his being.
(---)
That year, 1973, strange attacks began to happen.
It was also when Severus started hearing hushed whispers in the Slytherin Common Room. Whispers about a Dark Lord.
“He’s going to save this country,” Parkinson said. He was in seventh year, an ugly, broad bloke. “He’s going to save us from the mudbloods.”
Severus didn’t know what to think.
“They say he’s the most powerful wizard in the world,” Avery said one night, as they were walking back from dinner.
It had been strange. Unsettling.
Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore had escorted a sixth-year Ravenclaw girl through the Great Hall, and she’d started sobbing hysterically.
Her house had been attacked. Hovering above it was the mark of a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth.
“That’s his symbol,” Mulciber said. “The Dark Lord’s symbol.”
Dark Lord.
But that wasn’t his name. Severus only learn his real name a few days later.
Lord Voldemort.
(---)
July, 1974
“Stop behaving like a little poof and start acting like a man, Severus.”
Tobias Snape had said that after catching Severus reading advanced Potions Books – and then beating him until he cried.
A poof.
Poof.
Severus trembled with rage, stupid tears running down his cheeks.
Poof.
Men didn’t cry. Poofs cried.
Severus had gone up to his room and hadn’t come back down, not even for dinner.
Poof.
Queer.
Was that what he was?
It was as though his father had unlocked something horrid inside him, because Severus simply couldn’t stop thinking about it.
And noticing.
He noticed the ugly village boys – brutish and broad, getting stronger with puberty. Some already had facial hair (barely, but even so), and Severus would shiver when he saw the way they snogged the girls, the way they grabbed their waists with firm, rough hands–
Enough.
Enough, he thought, but it was useless.
It was as if some wicked seed had been planted in his mind, and it wouldn’t go. Quite the opposite, it seemed to grow and grow every day.
Severus was terrified, he didn’t know what to do.
“No,” he whispered, angry, glaring at the volume in his trousers.
No, he wouldn’t give in. He wouldn’t.
For God’s sake, he wasn’t an idiot. He was a wizard. A Slytherin.
Surely he was above these stupid desires, wasn’t he?
(---)
Well, it turned out he wasn’t.
He yielded. And once he did, he discovered it was stupidly good. A raw, shocking pleasure that left him breathless.
At every opportunity, he’d shut his bedroom door, close his eyes, wrap his hand around his aching cock, surrendering to the slick, frantic rhythm.
He tried, he really tried.
He would think of Lily, but then a wave of horrible guilt would crash over him for doing that while thinking about her, as if he was defiling her purity somehow.
So he would force his mind to picture random women from the telly – blondes, brunettes, big tits, red lipstick, short skirts. But his mind was a treacherous little thing, and before he could stop it, the faceless women would morph, their soft curves hardening into the sharp, powerful lines of a man.
Broad shoulders, defined chests, strong arms that looked like they could pin him down, like they could envelop him completely.
The hard weight of a thick cock in his hand, the scent of sweat and skin.
Men, tall and strong, their cocks heavy and full between their legs.
Men, with fair hair and wolfish grins, their hands rough on his skin.
Men, dark-haired and wicked, dangerous-looking ones, with knowing smiles that promised trouble and skilled, demanding mouths.
Oh shit. Shit.
He’d touch himself, stroking faster, coming hard, his release spilling all over his fist as he had to bite his lip to avoid moaning out loud.
And if, by any chance, these mysterious men in his mind happened to have sleek black hair and light-coloured eyes – stormy-grey, to be exact – well, that was nothing more than a coincidence.
Obviously. Just a coincidence.
(---)
October, 1974
“He can’t be normal,” Severus said, pulling a face.
He and Lily were sitting on the grass, enjoying the sun and watching Potter and Black carrying Lupin’s books for him, like he was an invalid.
“Sev,” Lily said, glaring at him. “C’me on, Remus is nice. I truly don’t know why he walks around with those idiots. He’s very ill, the poor thing.”
It didn’t make any sense.
Lupin was always ill. Honestly, what was his sickness? Severus sincerely hoped it wasn’t contagious.
That would be just his luck – catching some bizarre disease from Loony Lupin, of all people.
Gods. He’d rather die.
(---)
September, 1975
He knew the school year was going to be unbearable the moment he spotted Sirius Black on the Platform 9 ¾.
His world simply stopped. Black was–
Shit.
Shit.
For a moment, Severus was unable to move, completely rooted to the spot. It was as if the world had stopped turning, as if all the chatter of children and parents on the platform had vanished.
There were only two people in existence. Him and Sirius Black.
What the hell had happened?
Black–
Black towered over everyone, even some of the seventh-years. Severus would never admit it aloud – he would, genuinely, rather die than even consider saying it aloud – but it wasn’t exactly a secret that Black had always been… well, handsome.
Apparently the rich, inbred genes of the Black family were powerful, because it seemed every member of that cursed family was striking.
Of course, Severus only know the Black brothers and Narcissa, but he’d seen the rest of them in newspapers.
Sirius’s parents, austere and beautiful in that intimidating, aristocratic way. And Black– Black was the perfect blend of the two.
Severus hated him. It wasn’t fair.
Black had been born with everything, wrapped in gold and silk since he was a baby, the prick. He had power, money, intelligence – and beauty? It was so unfair.
Puberty made everyone else awkward, with limbs too long for their bodies and voices cracking. Everyone, except Black.
Sirius Black moved with the effortless elegance of someone who owned the world. He dripped arrogance, as if he knew exactly the effect he had on people.
Even the idiots in his little gang of delinquents seemed unsettled by him. Pettigrew, shorter and chubbier than ever, looked at Black as if he had the sun shining out of his arse. Lupin, always strange and tired-looking, went pink every time Black winked at him with that stupid grin, all white teeth.
Disgusting.
And Potter– it was absurd.
Had they ever done anything? The thought crossed Severus’s mind before he could stop it.
Potter and Black were always touching, clinging, brushing up against each other. If they weren’t, well, Potter and Black, they would certainly be the target of every joke in the school.
They were disgustingly… queer. Poofs.
Severus felt hatred twist inside him. Hatred, because if he behaved like that with any of his friends, Potter and Black would be the first to mock him.
He stormed off to find a compartment with other Slytherins, but even in those compartments all anyone talked about was Sirius Black. It was as if Severus had been cursed.
The train ride was awful. The Welcome Feast was even worse, because right after the Sorting Hat finished, Black decided it would be a brilliant idea to pull one of those stupid Gryffindor girls into his lap and flirt with her shamelessly.
And the worst part? The teachers laughed, as if it were all some grand joke. Dumbledore just shook his head, a small smile on his lips.
They were all out of their fucking minds.
The only person who looked even more irritated than Severus by the whole spectacle was Regulus Black.
Look, Severus wasn’t a gossip. He really wasn’t. But everyone knew about the tension between the Black brothers.
Rosier, Regulus’s dorm-mate and a friend of Avery, had mentioned that Sirius had some… peculiar political views.
“Swear to you, being in Gryffindor ruined him,” Rosier told them one day, after the entire Great Hall had witnessed Sirius and Regulus arguing – Potter practically having to hold Sirius back. “He’s loud about defending mudbloods. Salazar, Aunt Walburga is furious with him.”
Typical of Black to be the family’s black sheep. The first Black Heir in Gryffindor. And now, the defender of mudbloods.
Everyone seemed to fall for his nonsense, for those pretty eyes and that gorgeous smile. For the way he was tall, and strong, and a true gentleman with the girls – even if he would inevitably discard them a few days later.
Severus could see right through his bullshit.
Severus saw what lurked in those grey eyes. There was a hunger there, a restlessness.
There was darkness in that look, as if Black were holding something inside himself – something desperate to break free, to escape. To take control.
And God help them all if that ever happened, if Black ever let that darkness loose.
They would be lost. Severus most of all.
(---)
Apparently, everyone seemed to decide this would be the school year when absolutely everyone started snogging and dating.
They just forgot to inform Severus, apparently. Not that he had any interest, of course.
But what he’d feared finally happened.
He had spent the last few years trying to convince himself it was all one big joke, that it would never turn serious.
Potter had become obsessed with Lily in the second year, after he tripped over her foot, made her drop every single book she was carrying, and she shouted at him in front of the entire corridor.
He teased her, she snapped back. But that was childish nonsense, idiot boy stupidity. It was nothing.
Except it changed.
Severus could see, as clear as day, the look James Potter gave Lily Evans.
It was the look of a boy who’d decided –firmly, arrogantly– that he wanted her. And that apparently included making Severus’s life a living hell.
Everyone already knew there was bad blood between Severus and that gang of Gryffindor troglodytes. They’d been at each other’s throats since first year, but the professors brushed it off as inter-house rivalry.
They didn’t understand it was hatred. Pure and raw hatred.
Severus was the target of Potter’s stupid pranks, and in retaliation he specialized in potions and hexes crafted specifically to humiliate the Gryffindors. Especially Potter and Black.
But things were escalating, dangerously, between them.
The pranks were getting more elaborate, and Severus could see the genuine delight Potter took in humiliating him, especially in front of Lily.
But it didn’t matter, because Severus paid him back in equal measure. Like the time he left Potter completely bald with a potion so powerful Dumbledore himself had to call in Ministry specialists to investigate it.
“You look even more hideous than you already did,” Lily said, staring at Potter’s shiny bald head.
Checkmate, Potter, Severus thought, smiling as he watched pain and humiliation etched all over Potter’s face.
Lily, his Lily, would never give in.
Potter would never have her.
(---)
December, 1975
Severus didn’t know exactly why he decided he was going to make Lupin’s life hell, but he decided it all the same.
Perhaps because he knew that messing with Potter or Black was practically begging to suffer – and Severus already suffered enough at the hands of those two animals – and bothering Pettigrew was ridiculous.
Pettigrew was so pathetic there was no fun at all in hexing him. Lupin, however, was… the middle ground.
Not as pathetic as Pettigrew, but not as dangerous and unhinged as Potter or Black.
And he had a secret. Severus could smell it.
Lupin had a secret, and it had to be something big.
Interesting.
He would find out, no matter the cost.
(---)
January, 1976
When they returned from Winter break, the talk of the school – not just the school, the entire wizarding world – was Sirius Black.
It had been all over the papers, and no one had dared to breathe when the owls dropped the morning editions of the Daily Prophet that January of 1976.
Sirius Black disowned: Regulus Black named new Black Heir
The headline blared.
Severus finished reading at the exact moment the doors of the Great Hall swung open and Black walked in, chin lifted and posture rigid, his face impassive but his eyes so stormy they looked like the brink of a violent tempest.
Potter was glued to his side, a hand clamped on Sirius’s shoulder.
Black – little Black, Regulus – stood, followed by Crouch and Rosier, and marched straight toward Sirius, right in front of everyone in the Hall.
Though much smaller, thinner, and frankly unimpressive compared to his brother, Regulus had the nerve to confront him, even if Sirius looked like he was about to curse someone into oblivion.
Oh.
Severus understood why. Regulus was wearing the Black family signet ring, the proof for everyone to see that he was the Heir now.
“Traitor,” Regulus said, cold and slow.
“Lapdog,” Sirius snarled back, his voice barely more than a growl.
The Black family rift. At last.
Go on, Severus thought, staring at Sirius Black without blinking. Unleash it. Show them all what you really are.
He was so close. Black was so close to letting that inner beast tear free, Severus could almost feel it thrumming under his skin.
It thrilled him, even if he pretended it didn’t.
He smiled.
(---)
Severus couldn’t understand how Black, Potter, Lupin and Pettigrew managed to get away with absolutely everything they pulled.
It was practically a miracle they hadn’t burnt Hogwarts to the ground yet, and Severus suspected that even if they did, Dumbledore would still find a way to let them off.
The Headmaster’s favouritism towards his stupid lions was ridiculous.
Severus tried, tirelessly, to work out what they were up to. And so far, he hadn’t discovered a thing.
It had to be some spell, something incredibly powerful.
In the breaks between studying for his O.W.L.s, he kept searching the Restricted Section of the library, but everything he found seemed absurdly advanced and far too difficult – especially for the pack of idiots those four were.
It infuriated him beyond reason..
He felt it was something important, that they were planning something massive, and that it somehow had to do with Lupin’s mysterious secret, but he couldn’t piece it together.
It was as if he had all the pieces of the puzzle, but no idea how to assemble them.
(---)
March, 1976
“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” Severus murmured, taking a sip of his cheap beer.
Lily giggled. “You have to have a bit of fun, Sev. Come on, we’re young!”
That party was stressing him out. The music? Deafening. The drink? Horrible. The people? Insufferable.
At least Lily looked lovely. She was wearing an emerald-green dress that made her eyes sparkle. She would have looked beautiful –more beautiful– in Slytherin robes. A real pity.
He tried, he really did, but her friends didn’t like him and the feeling was entirely mutual.
Severus lasted a solid hour before slipping away discreetly of the Hufflepuff Common Room, his head thrumming from all the noise.
He let out a heavy sigh, then shoved his hands into his pockets and began the walk back to the dungeons.
Well, he’d done his social duty for the night. Lily was still at the party, laughing and having fun with her girlfriends.
He was nearly at the dungeons when he heard a noise. No, not just any noise. A…moan.
God, just what he needed. Brilliant, absolutely brilliant.
He was fully prepared to ignore whatever couple was snogging in the dark, but then he saw who it was and stopped.
Black was snogging some random girl, holding her pinned against the stone wall. One of his hands was gripping her waist, and she was moaning into his neck.
His eyes were closed, his mouth slightly open, and… Christ.
Severus forgot how to breathe for a moment, rooted to the spot.
He needed to bolt. If Black saw him standing there, watching like some pathetic freak, he’d… he’d hex him or worse. He knew that.
And still, he couldn’t move. He was… mesmerised.
Black bit the girl’s lower lip, and a low sound escaped his throat. It was raw and deep, and it went straight to Severus’s lower parts.
Oh, no.
This was bad. This was really, really bad.
This couldn’t be happening. God, no–
And then Black opened his eyes and stared right at him. In the dim light, Black’s eyes seemed to glow like liquid silver.
Shit.
Severus felt all the blood drain from his head and rush south, and he really, really should leave. He really should flee to the safety of his dormitory, but his feet wouldn’t obey his brain. It was like they were cemented to the floor.
Black smiled – a dangerous, unhinged Black sort of smile.
He moved his hand from the girl’s waist to her hair, yanking her head back to expose her throat, and then he licked a stripe up her neck.
Fuck.
Holy fuck.
Severus swallowed hard, and he must have made a sound, because the girl turned and jumped.
“Fucking freak!” She shrieked. She hastily adjusted her robes, but Black just lounged against the wall, unbothered.
His white shirt was rumpled, hanging open nearly halfway down his chest, his tie loose.
Severus hated him, he hated him so much it was almost a physical ache.
He should draw his wand and curse Sirius Black right there. End this madness once and for all.
He didn’t.
“See you later, yeah, love?” Black said, his eyes locked on Severus, though he was speaking to the girl.
“Merlin, Sirius…” the girl muttered, and she said something else, but Severus didn’t hear it and neither, it seemed, did Black.
Had his lips always been that… plump? It was obscene.
Red and plump, like some forbidden fruit, taunting him.
No. No.
Severus watched the girl dash out, and then he was alone with Black.
In the dungeons.
In the dark.
He was fucked. Truly and undeniably fucked.
“Enjoying the show, Snivellus?” Black asked, drawling the words in that arrogant way only he could.
Severus wanted to punch him. He wanted to break his stupid, perfect, straight nose.
“Fuck off.”
Black’s smile widened.
“Bold of you, lurking in the shadows and then talking back. Always following me and the boys around… you’re such a freak, Snape.”
Black pushed himself off the wall and started walking towards Severus. He moved like a predator – all fluid grace and menace – circling his prey.
Severus stiffened, his fingers tightening around the wand in his pocket.
Fuck it, it Black attacked, Severus would curse him. He would. He knew some nasty curses, the kind he’d read in tomes in the Restricted Section.
And he wasn’t afraid to use them.
It was survival, with Black. Survive or die. And Severus wouldn’t give the prick the satisfaction.
Black stopped mere inches from him, so close Severus could feel the heat radiating from his body.
The difference between them was ridiculous. Blak was built like a man –tall, solid– while Severus was all bones and frail limbs. He wasn’t short – he was pretty average in height, actually – but then, everyone seemed to look short next to Black.
Black leaned in, and Severus shuddered as he felt a warm breath against his ear.
“Since you like watching so much, Snivellus, I’ll tell you exactly where to look.”
Severus swallowed the lump in his throat, his heart hammering against his ribs.
“The Shrieking Shack. Next Tuesday, after curfew.”
What?
What was this animal on about?
Severus opened his mouth to retort, but Black pulled away.
He was smiling, the bastard. Smiling like a maniac, and Severus hated how good it looked on him.
“Let’s see who runs first, Snivellus,” Black said, then he winked.
He fucking winked at Severus.
And then he sauntered off, whistling as if nothing had happened at all.
(---)
Death seemed to follow him.
When he was nine, his neighbour died. Severus had never known his grandparents, not on his father’s side and certainly not on his mother’s, so Margareth was practically a grandmother to him.
She never minded that strange things happened around him, she actually found it funny. She baked biscuits for him whenever he went to her house, and she massaged the bruises on his skin whenever he had the misfortune of meeting the wrong side of his father’s belt.
She died in front of him, lying her bed.
That had been the closest Severus had been to death, until that fateful full moon in March 1976.
Now Severus truly knew what it felt like to be face-to-face with death.
Death had dangerous yellow eyes, fur, and long, horrible claws.
Death was a werewolf, a dangerous beast, wandering loose in the Forbidden Forest.
Remus Lupin was a werewolf. And Sirius Black knew –he knew– and still had led Severus straight to his trap.
It almost costed him his life.
(---)
April, 1976
His life wasn’t worth a thing. Absolutely nothing.
Severus had never seen his mother angry until he saw her shouting at Dumbledore.
“HE ALMOST LOST HIS LIFE!” His Mum screamed, and if Severus hadn’t been so terrified, he might have felt proud of her.
Headmaster Dumbledore had soft words, and he spoke in that gentle manner of his.
Sirius Black should have been expelled, and Remus Lupin should have been sent straight to Azkaban.
None of that happened.
Nothing ever happened to the rich and the powerful, did it? One thing muggles and wizards had in common.
Black got detention for the rest of the term and the following year. He was kicked off the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and Severus learned that Potter and the rest of those stupid friends of his weren’t speaking to him.
Nothing happened to Lupin.
“He’s only a boy, Severus,” were Dumbledore’s words, his kind blue eyes staring straight at Severus. “Something traumatic happened to him when he was very young, something that was not his fault. Does he not deserve a chance at a better life, my boy?”
No. He didn’t. None of them did.
But what was Severus’s opinion worth, anyway? Nothing.
And so, after Severus was forced to swear he would never utter a word about Lupin to anyone, and after Dumbledore made Black mutter a miserable ‘I’m sorry’ in his direction – the fucker couldn’t even look at him –, things at school returned to normal.
Except Severus couldn’t sleep.
He woke up screaming, drenched in sweat, terrified.
He felt anger, so much anger. Boiling inside him, ready to explode.
Severus wanted revenge. He wanted blood.
(---)
He couldn’t sleep.
Every time he shut his eyes, he saw death.
Death, in the shape of Lupin, the werewolf.
He couldn’t study, he couldn’t focus on his O.W.L.s.
Everything irritated him. He felt as though he was seconds away from exploding.
(---)
May, 1976
Mudblood.
Why had he said that?
He couldn’t stop thinking about it, couldn’t stop crying.
It had been so humiliating. All of it.
Potter’s spell, Black laughing. He felt helpless, mocked in front of the entire school.
He’d felt so much rage. So much.
He wanted to blow something up. Someone.
He wanted to hurt someone as much as he was being hurt. Only he’d lashed out at the wrong person.
Mudblood.
Not Lily. Not his Lily.
His Lily, who now hated him. With reason.
(---)
June, 1976
The nightmares were always the same.
He saw the werewolf, he felt death breathing down his neck.
He saw those massive fangs, those feral eyes. And he heard Black laughing, as though it were all some grand joke.
Then everything shifted, and Lily stood before him.
She was crying, her beautiful eyes watching him with fear and heartbreak.
“Why did you call me a mudblood, Severus?” she asked, and he tried to beg for her forgiveness. But he had no voice.
He had no voice because he was dead and alone.
(---)
October, 1976
She had always loved Halloween, it had always been her favourite celebration.
And she was beautiful, so beautiful.
He watched her from a distance. It hurt – it hurt so much – but he couldn’t not look.
I’m sorry, Lils.
I love you, Lils.
I’m sorry.
(---)
December, 1976
That Christmas, Severus stayed at Hogwarts, and he had the whole dormitory to himself. All his friends had gone home for the holidays, but he hadn’t.
Lily hadn’t either.
Stupidly, he thought that maybe, maybe, he could try speaking to her.
Of course not, because Potter and Black had stayed for the holidays too, which meant Severus barely left the dormitory.
He received rare Potions books and even rarer ingredients from Lucius Malfoy.
What does he want? Severus wondered, fascinated by his fancy presents.
Nothing that came from the rich, from the powerful like the Malfoys, was ever free. So why was Malfoy paying attention to him? What was he after?
Deep down – very deep down – Severus had a suspicion.
He was being tested. And he was probably doing well.
The situation outside was getting worse by the day. At Hogwarts, it was easy to pretend everything was fine, almost as if the school walls shielded them. Dumbledore didn’t let anything slip through.
But even so… it was bad.
Slytherins – and even some Ravenclaws from the old families – no longer feared praising the Dark Lord and his growing army.
They called themselves Death Eaters.
“It’s a cool name,” Rosier said, passing Severus a fag.
He still didn’t fully understand how he and Rosier had formed this… sort of friendship, but there they were.
Rosier, for a rich pure-blood, was decent. He didn’t poke at things he knew Severus didn’t want to speak about.
He wasn’t snobbish, and he was clever. And it certainly helped that Potter’s group of delinquents didn’t bother Severus when he was with Rosier.
“Yeah,” Severus agreed, taking a drag.
Death Eaters.
It was a cool name. And the Dark Lord, he was so… mysterious.
No one knew anything solid about him, only rumours.
It intrigued Severus. Deeply.
(---)
February, 1977
He missed Lily. He missed her so much it ached.
It felt as though someone had cut open his chest and sliced his heart to pieces.
It hurt to look at her, it hurt to see how brilliant she’d become.
Radiant, surrounded by her brave little Gryffindor friends.
She didn’t look at him, it was as if he no longer existed.
He cried every night, silently, in his bed.
(---)
July, 1977
“He built an empire,” Avery was saying, already drunk of champagne.
Severus didn’t know what he was doing there, he felt completely out of place. He, a poor half-blood, in one of the most exclusive wizarding clubs in the country.
But Lucius apparently considered Severus his friend, and so even though certain other pure-bloods – like the Lestrange brothers – looked at him with disgust, they restricted themselves to simply ignore his existence.
Severus felt he was on the brink of doing something very important or very stupid.
He would be going to his final year at school and then what? Apply for a job? Would he even get one?
The news grew worse each day. Mudbloods and half-bloods were treated like second-class citizens, and some were even suffering mysterious attacks.
Severus had nothing. Nothing, but his brain.
“And that is enough,” Lucius told him later, when they were smoking fancy cigars on the rooftop of the club. “People notice your intelligence, Severus. Cissy did, and I did too. You could have a bright future ahead of you… if you want one.”
(---)
September, 1977
Lily and James Potter were dating.
It was the talk of the school, the perfect love story.
The brilliant, beautiful muggleborn girl and the handsome, popular pure-blood. The Head Girl and the Head Boy.
A love story for the history books.
Severus felt sick. And furious.
Everywhere he looked, he saw them. Smiling, holding hands. Hugging in that stupid way coupled did. Kissing.
He wanted to vomit, to scream.
Everyone seemed to adore the couple. Everyone, except Severus.
Until he saw it.
During one dinner in the Great Hall, Black and Potter were laughing and talking like the troglodytes they were –until Lily joined them at the table.
Potter’s behaviour changed instantly. He stood, kissed her, made room for her to sit, and started acting like a civilized human being.
And Black– oh, Black.
Black went rigid, staring down at his food as though it had personally offended him.
Black was jealous of Lily and Potter’s relationship.
Severus allowed himself a small smile.
Good.
He wasn’t the only miserable one anymore.
(---)
The seventh year was horrible.
He focused on his N.E.W.T.s, desperate to apply for every apprenticeship he could find.
Mulciber mentioned his father wanted him to do applied studies at Durmstrang, and Severus envied him. He had never left the country, imagine studying somewhere else.
It must be incredible.
Unfortunately, he didn’t have such luxuries.
(---)
May, 1978
Graduation was excruciating.
Severus hadn’t expected his father to show up, but there he was. And he almost smiled, which was horrifying.
His mother looked proud, and he tried to smile back, but he couldn’t.
When the ceremony ended, he was about to meet his parents when he found Dumbledore, of all people, speaking to them.
“Severus is a brilliant young man,” Professor Dumbledore said, smiling, the wrinkles around his gentle eyes deepening.
“He needs to find a job,” his father muttered.
Dumbledore studied him for a moment.
“Severus, my boy, if you ever need a letter of recommendation, anything at all, you may count on me.” He said, placing a hand on Severus’s bony shoulder.
Severus simply nodded.
He didn’t want anything from Dumbledore.
He wanted to leave and forget the seven traumatizing years behind him. He wanted to finally use magic outside school and get on with his life.
He heard laughter and turned.
Lily was chatting with the Potter family – did that horrific hair run in the family? Potter’s father had the exact same mess on his head.
Lily’s family wasn’t there. Petunia wasn’t there.
Why? He wondered.
Lily’s gaze met his for a moment, and he saw something flicker in her eyes. But it was gone in an instant, and she returned to ignoring his existence, laughing and enjoying herself with her boyfriend.
Good for her. Severus didn’t care.
He didn’t need her friendship anymore. He had his magic, and that was enough.
The following week, Severus found an apprenticeship in a potions shop.
He moved out of his parents’ house and promised himself he would never return.
(---)
August, 1978
It was late when Severus entered the decrepit building he lived in near Knockturn Alley. It was the only dump he could afford with his wage – and even then, he barely had enough left to survive.
He was exhausted from work, and then he saw a letter waiting for him by the door.
The seal was Malfoy’s.
Severus took a deep breath and opened it. There was only a single sentence inside:
If you’re tired of wasting your potential, I know where you can be truly valued.
(---)
October, 1978
He didn’t know where he was. Somewhere in the countryside, but he couldn’t tell exactly where.
It looked like one of those gothic castles from horror novels – vast, enormous, so large he couldn’t see where it ended.
Hooded figures led them through the corridors to a big, intricated door.
There were six of them.
Severus, Mulciber, Avery, Rosier, Crouch, and… Black. Little Black –Regulus.
That surprised him, though it shouldn’t. Everyone knew Regulus was nothing like his older brother in, well, absolutely everything.
The hooded figures led them one by one into the chamber.
When Severus’s turn came, he felt cold all over. He knew this would change his life, forever.
But here he would be valued, wouldn’t he? Here they would appreciate his intelligence.
Here, he could be part of something grand. Part of History.
There were three figures in the chamber. Two hooded, wearing intricately crafted masks that clearly marked them as high-ranking.
And in the centre, seated on a simple chair that looked like a throne simply because he sat on it, was the Dark Lord.
It was the first time Severus had ever seen him. He wasn’t wearing a mask.
The first thing Severus noticed was how pale he was, the contrast made even sharper by the dark robes he wore. Simple robes, with no luxury or ornament.
His hair was dark, and his cheekbones looked sharp enough to cut glass. His lips were thin, and he had an aristocratic appearance.
Severus had no doubt the Dark Lord belonged to a powerful wizarding family, he radiated elegance and power.
But his eyes… his eyes were terrifying.
Red, like blood.
“Severus Snape,” the Dark Lord said. He spoke at a normal volume, but his voice was strong, echoing through the empty chamber.
Severus knelt before him, trying his hardest not to look as frightened as he truly was.
“Look at me,” the Dark Lord commanded, and Severus did.
He was lost in those crimson eyes. He felt fear, horror, but also… peace.
He would follow this man, he had no doubt about that. Because he wasn’t merely a man.
He was something more.
Was the Dark Lord a god? It felt like it.
“I expect great things from you, Severus.”
Severus nodded, and the Dark Lord drew a wand from his robes. A long, white wand.
Severus extended his forearm, and then he felt the worst pain of his entire life. He managed not to scream, though he thought he might faint.
When it was over – it couldn’t have lasted more than a minute, though it felt like eternity – the Dark Lord ordered him to stand.
And he did.
He was no longer Severus Snape, the poor half-blood and potions assistant.
Now, he was Severus Snape, the Death Eater.
(---)
November, 1978
The storm began to fall as he was walking down the street.
The rain seemed to grow heavier by the second, and so Severus made the decision to step into the first pub he saw – which looked far more like a filthy hole than a proper pub.
He walked in and sat at the counter, then checked to see if his packages had got wet. Thank Merlin, they hadn’t.
The books he’d brought were well wrapped, and he let out a sigh of relief. He as carrying ancient tomes – so rare they had been imported from China – he couldn’t let them get soaked. Not under any circumstance.
The pub was empty, save for half a dozen strays. Two shady-looking men were playing cards and drinking vodka in a corner, and there was another man by the fireplace, staring into the flames with a strange look on his face.
“What do you want, lad?” the barman asked, and Severus considered it for a moment.
He was only going to stay until the rain eased. He noticed the barman giving him and odd look – Severus wasn’t wearing muggle clothes – but he didn’t give a fuck what people thought.
“A pint,” Severus said, and the barman nodded.
He was a middle-aged man with a rather grimy appearance, but then again, the whole place looked grimy.
Severus was about to take the first sip of his pint when he felt a presence behind him.
“My, my. If it’s not my lucky day.”
He froze.
No.
Oh no.
It couldn’t be. But it was.
He turned, slowly, praying that if there was any God in this miserable existence, it wouldn’t be who he thought it was.
But the universe apparently loved laughing in his face.
What else would explain Severus coming across Sirius fucking Black of all people in some random muggle pub, in the middle of a bloody storm in London?
He hadn’t seen Black since they’d finished school, and it was insane how much he had changed.
He’d looked like a proper man since fifth year, but now he looked… Severus couldn’t even put into words.
Black was wearing muggle clothes – dark trousers, biker boots, and was that a leather jacket? – and his hair was shorter now, though not by much.
It still fell like a curtain of dark silk into his eyes, eyes that remained just as dangerous and bright as ever.
Black was drenched as well, soaked to the bone. Severus tried his best not to look at that, and instead focused on Black’s hand.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Black’s knuckles were bruised, and drops of blood were staining the pub’s filthy floor. He’d been in a fight, and he was drunk.
Exactly the dangerous combination Severus wanted as far away from him as humanly possible.
“Go away,” Severus hissed, tucking his precious books into the inner pockets of his robes.
Black pouted – he actually pouted– and then the bastard sat right beside him and drank Severus’s pint.
Arsehole.
“Horrible,” Black said, but kept drinking anyway. “What? Can’t a bloke meet again with an old childhood acquaintance?”
“I hate you,” Severus said, plain and simple.
He did. And he wanted Black to get the fuck out of there. He never wanted to see his stupid face again.
Black laughed, loud, drawing the attention of the few people nearby, and Severus took a deep breath to avoid cursing him.
Did he have to laugh like that? He already drew attention by being, well, him. Did he have to make it worse?
“Lots of people do, Snivellus.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Why?” Black asked, narrowing his eyes. “What should I call you, then? Snape? Or… Death Eater?”
Severus’s blood turned to ice. He knew? How did he know?
The identities of the Death Eaters weren’t public, for safety. How in Merlin’s name did he know?
Black smiled – that dangerous smile that was his signature.
“That’s what you are, isn’t it?” He licked his lips, tilting his head to get a better look at Severus. “A filthy Death Eater.”
Severus clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palm to stop himself from grabbing his wand and cursing Black’s arrogant arse into oblivion.
He couldn’t, not in front of these muggles. He had to keep a low profile. He couldn’t break the bloody Statute of Secrecy.
“Are you sucking the Dark Lord’s cock, Snivellus?” Black asked. “Being a good, obedient little bitch?”
“I’ll fucking kill you,” Severus said, his teeth gritted so hard his jaw ached.
Black raised both hands in false surrender, mocking him.
“The kitten has claws, wow,” he said, as if the whole thing were a grand joke. “No wonder Lily hates your guts. You’re a disgusting little man, Snape.”
“Don’t say her name.” Severus’s voice came out icy.
“Or what?” Black taunted, his eyes shining with challenge. “What will you do? Run? Tell your daddy Dark Lord? Curse me?”
Severus felt his blood boiling. Years of rage, humiliation, hatred – years of enduring this posh prick and his stupid mouth.
Enough.
He didn’t have to put up with Sirius Black anymore.
Not now. Not ever.
Severus looked at him, right into those infuriating grey eyes.
He smiled.
Muggle way, he thought.
And then he punched Sirius Black in the face. Right there, in front of the entire pub.