Chapter Text
Two months. That’s how long it had been since he woke up in the Shrieking Shack after fate, instead of letting him die, had given him an unwanted gift—a return to the past he’d already escaped once before. This time, things were much worse. First time, he’d made this journey as an adult wizard; now he was a teenager again. And just as the first journey had its explanation, this one was utterly without sense or logic.
But it had happened, and with each passing day, he yearned for death more and more.
Not only because he was once again a fourth-year student struggling to cope with the Marauders’ bullying, but also because, during his interaction with Lily, he realised how wrong he’d been about her. Or rather, how much he’d idealised her during his years of loneliness.
When he understood that he could somehow utilise fate’s gift, he decided to slowly pull away from Lily. Step by step, he would distance himself enough so that the friendship that bound them would die naturally. The difficulty with this plan was that Lily had a different agenda than he did. The further he withdrew, the closer she came to him.
His roommates—Merlin, how he missed Mulciber—began joking about Lily’s supposed crush on him. The idea was already preposterous. Besides, he might have wanted it once, but now it was completely unnecessary. Not only because he no longer had any romantic feelings for her—the mental age difference had done something time hadn’t before—but also because the interest his former friend was showing him could only worsen his relations with Potter.
Severus couldn’t afford that—contrary to appearances, he was far less patient than in the past.
If he truly had another chance, he intended to seize it and leave Hogwarts as quickly as possible. Not only to avoid being tied to Potter by the life debt he owed him after James saved him from the potential consequences of his friend’s prank, but also to follow a path he hadn’t seen before. He didn’t have to choose between Dumbledore and Riddle—he could build his life away from the impending war. It was selfish, but—if he were honest—he believed he deserved to be selfish for once.
Pondering his situation, he wasn’t as detached from reality as it might seem to someone who entered his dormitory and sat on the edge of his bed. “Narcissa…” he said. He knew the sound of her footsteps almost as well as his own. “I think your fiancé wouldn’t be pleased if he knew you were entering another wizard’s room.” He opened his eyes, then, smiling at the witch who had tried to mother him for years, added, “Don’t tell me I’m just a boy. I know that, you know that, but Lucius… suffers from a most interesting condition—morbid jealousy.”
“This time, he’ll understand my actions,” she replied, trying to remain calm. Cissa had always been a beautiful witch, but unlike her sisters, she didn’t try to show it at every turn. He never learned the source of Bellatrix’s lack of self-esteem. In Andromeda’s case, her excessive attention to her appearance was a response to Tonks’s apparent coldness towards her. “I heard that another argument almost broke out between you and my cousin.”
He parried his friend’s question with his own. “Cousin? Which cousin are you talking about, dear? You had the misfortune of being born into a family that was determined to create ties with every British wizarding family.”
Cissa nervously smoothed her hair. She was embarrassed, a trace of blush appearing on her cheeks. A long moment passed before she said, “I’m talking about Sirius. Potter is also my cousin, but the kinship is so distant that I’d rather not remember about it.”
If I had to forget someone, I’d choose Black over Potter, he thought, surprised by his feelings. His problem was that now, when he looked at James, he saw Harry, and he wouldn’t want to forget that, even if his actions led to that boy never being born.
He sighed, then stood up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed to sit next to Narcissa. Only then did he say truthfully, “Black is concerned about my change in behaviour towards Lily Evans. You’d think he’d be pleased about that.” He tilted his head back. He fixed his gaze on the ceiling—only recently had he noticed that the ceilings in the Slytherin dormitories were painted. Each room had a distinct pattern, and he had a section of the sky with the constellation Draco and both Ursas. “You really have nothing to worry about.”
“Really?” Narcissa asked. “The change in your behaviour is very sudden. You’ve become much more mature from one day to the next. Sometimes during our conversations, I feel like I’m not talking to you, but to my father... It’s quite irritating. Just like your lack of affection for that Mudblood...”
“How many times do I have to tell you I don’t like that term?” Severus jerked his head to quickly look at the witch sitting beside him. “A little longer and I’ll hear you talking about me as a half-breed. Your theory that Muggleborns steal magic from Squibs is completely illogical.” He fell silent for a moment, trying to remember the title of a book that dealt with this topic. When he failed, he added, “Only a wizard can take magic from a wizard. To take magic from someone, you need a wizard or a witch.”
Narcissa instantly turned first red, then purple with anger. But she said nothing—she simply took a deep breath, then began counting down from ten. She didn’t speak aloud; she didn’t need to, and Severus still heard her, because her thoughts were screaming at him. When she calmed down, she announced in a voice that brooked no argument. “You’ll have to reconsider a few things in your reasoning, Severus. Lucius wants to introduce you to his father’s friend.” She stood and walked wordlessly to the door. Her step was so light it was almost inaudible. A moment before leaving, she added, “Acquaintance with this wizard is extremely important for your future.”
When she disappeared, Severus couldn’t help but laugh. There was no humour in that laugh, but disbelief, anger, and years of suppressed frustration. He reached into the compartment he’d made in the headboard of his bed to pull out his potions book, which contained not only all the corrections to make recipes more effective but also the address of the Prince family’s seat.
He was surprised when he inherited his family’s fortune. However, the fact that he inherited it not from his grandfather but from his mother’s cousin completely shocked him. Why? Before Nero Prince’s death, Severus had no idea he existed. Perhaps he’d got his hopes up too much, as the letter he’d received when receiving the will had been written by a man older than his uncle is now, but he had to try. For now, establishing contact with his mother’s family might prove to be the simplest solution to his problems.
He wanted to escape, and he needed help from someone who wouldn’t want something he wasn’t willing to give up this time—his freedom.
xxx
Twenty minutes. That’s how long he’d been late for Potions class. Severus was furious with himself for being late—he was late not because of anything bad, but because he’d lost track of time. During his year as headmaster of Hogwarts, only the owls hadn’t treated him like a leper—and Miss Lovegood, though that witch was exceptional and her reactions on others were often strange—so he’d spent a lot of time talking to them. And that was the case again.
Fortunately, he’d remembered to send a letter to his uncle. A letter in which he’d explained the situation fourteen-year-old Severus Snape was in with every detail. He didn’t even mention time travel.
Stepping into the classroom, he almost immediately apologised for his lateness. Horace—contrary to what Severus remembered—liked him very much, and in response to his expressed remorse, not only didn’t take away his house points but also smiled at him. “Today you’ll be working with Sirius Black.” He glanced at Lily. To his surprise, he saw Evan Rosier at her side, not James Potter. He was relieved because Evan was able to treat even those he disliked for various reasons with courtesy. “Dumbledore thought that establishing contacts between houses might prove useful.”
Severus didn’t remember such a case from the past, but he did remember something else. Sirius Black, like Bellatrix, had demonstrated a talent for Legilimency. Was Dumbledore trying to create a situation where the mutt could check on the disliked Slytherin? It could be amusing. He smiled, saying, “Professor, I have nothing against it. Even if I did, there’s nothing I can do about it, right?”
Slughorn nodded. His lips curved into a smirk that might—or might not—suggest the professor was amused by his answer. “Then sit down. Today we’re brewing a beauty potion. You’re at an age where you might soon need it.”
He didn’t have to wait long to hear the sarcastic “That won’t help Snape.” from Black’s mouth. Fortunately, Severus managed to distance himself enough from his appearance to counter those words. “I see Black boasts good eyesight. That’s quite valuable in the wizarding world, where improving vision isn’t so easy. If it were easy, Potter wouldn’t need glasses.” Sitting down, he continued. “However, it would be good if you used your eyesight for reading. You should already know the professor was referring to a potion effective for eliminating acne caused by puberty. It could happen to you too.” He took out his writing utensil, then added, “For me, acne wouldn’t be a tragedy; for you, good looks are a source of confidence. It’s rather sad...”
The class filled with laughter from both Slytherins and Gryffindors. For some reason, the laughter faded when Severus looked back. As he moved on to taking notes, Sev scolded himself for overreacting. However, he knew he had to react somehow, because his lack of reaction—after today’s events—would not only be suspicious but also a source of chatter.
It wasn’t long before
they began brewing their potions. Severus had made this particular recipe too many times to admit it openly—he used this remedy for more than just the acne that had lingered on his face until almost his twenty-fifth birthday. The recipe was incredibly difficult to follow, so this lesson should be... interesting.
xxx
The Prince family began to lose its importance not because they had lost their fortune—as had happened to the Gaunt family—but because they were slowly withdrawing from public life. Nero wanted to reverse this trend, so for years he had been trying to contact his cousin, Eileen Snape.
He sent letter after letter, but each one returned unanswered.
He knew that any normal wizard—and Muggle, for that matter—would go to the home of the person he wanted to talk to. It was the logical and simplest solution for everyone but him. When Eileen chose Tobias over their family, she ensured that none of the Princes could get close to her. Therefore, he suspected that his letters were returning not because she didn’t want to read them, but because she never received them.
That was his biggest problem.
A problem he thought insurmountable until he opened the envelope brought to him by an unknown owl. The letter he received was written by Severus Snape—a wizard desperate enough to ask for help from someone he didn’t know.
Nero looked again at the neatly written parchment, then smiled and said aloud, “Dumbledore, Dumbledore...” He laughed maniacally, and when he calmed down, he added, “You’re on the verge of losing one of the best students your school has ever had, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” After a few minutes, he stood up, left the office, and went to inform his father that he was going to Hogwarts to pick up someone who belonged to them. It shouldn’t take long.