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Chapter Text

On a quiet night, not unlike many others, a harrowing sound ripped through the air, announcing its presence like ominous thunder. It echoed through the empty walls of a cold room and died away, replaced by something quieter, and yet far more sickening and sinister.

As the cold wind thumped against the shattered windows of the Shrieking Shack, a lightning bolt set the sky ablaze, its blinding light tinging the gloomy chamber with a hundred different shades of blue.

Dark shadows shifted on the floor as the sudden light illuminated Severus Snape’s mangled body. He was lying down on the floor, staring at the ceiling; his eyes murky and unfocused as he waited for death, alone and forgotten. As the light slowly faded into blackness again, a strong gust of wind rattled the broken windows. The remaining glass covering the rotten panels trembled precariously over his body.

Severus’ fingers raked against the wooden floor, wood splinters lodging themselves under his skin. He gathered his strength, craning his neck as his black eyes darted frantically from one corner of the room to the other; but there was no one there. The boy had long since left, leaving him to die on that filthy floor.

His gaze wandered to the open door; his dark eyes gleaming weakly in the dim light. Greasy strands of hair fell over his face, shame washing over his features as he realised that a part of him was praying that someone would walk in and put an end to his misery.

He gritted his teeth, the metallic taste of blood heavy on his tongue. Did he truly wish to die that desperately or was he just afraid to survive?

Perhaps the boy had been right: he was a coward after all.

Bile rose in his throat as memories of that night flashed before his eyes. He shuddered, the sound of the wind growing muffled as he remembered the jet of green light bursting from his wand; the Killing Curse hitting Dumbledore square in the chest. Dumbledore’s small smile, as he’d fallen from the edge of that tower, still etched in his mind.

What an easy way to die, he thought bitterly. He loathed to admit that as he had stood there, watching Dumbledore’s body being swallowed by darkness, he had been tempted by death, lured by the simplicity of it.

Severus’ mouth thinned as he realised that that had hardly been the first time. The first had of course been in Dumbledore’s office, when after all their efforts Lily had still died, killed by his own stupidity.

Had he not changed since that day? Was it wrong to ask that the pain would cease? Could he truly be considered a coward for desiring such a thing?

Severus lifted his head from the floor, trying to gather some strength; nausea flooded him. He felt a sharp twinge of pain in his neck and the revolting sound he had been hearing grew louder.

With difficulty, he dragged his right hand closer to his body, pressing it against the slimy skin of his throat, his eyes narrowing in pain. He tried to breathe, but nothing happened, and suddenly, fear crept in his veins, primordial survival instincts stirring inside him.

Funny… maybe he didn’t wish to die after all.

He ground his jaw, his hand pressing harder against the bleeding wound, his heart hammering in his chest. His throat tightened, his nostrils flaring. The grip he had on his throat was painfully tight now, his fingernails clawing at his mangled skin. He inhaled, waiting for a fresh waft of air to fill his lungs.

At first, nothing happened; then his neck burned with pain.

His eyes widened as pain exploded in his chest, his lungs squirming in pure agony at the lack of oxygen. He writhed on the floor and before he could stop himself, his nostrils flared again.

Severus’ eyes gleamed with hope, because this time he felt something come through his throat; but it wasn’t air.

The metallic smell of blood inundated his mouth, blinding his other senses, choking him. He coughed until his throat was raw. A few blood vessels burst in his eyes, leaving them as garnet as the rest of his face. He could feel more blood gushing through his fingers. With his head throbbing so hard that he thought it might explode, he gagged, coughing and dreading he might soon spit his own lungs.

He tried to move, to find some comfort from that unbearable pain, but his muscles were no longer responding.

Why was it taking so long? He thought, his nails digging deeper into his throat. Was it not enough? Had he not suffered enough? Why had he not died looking at her eyes?

Lying helplessly on the floor, hot tears gleamed in his dark eyes. He looked at the deserted room, clenching his teeth. Perhaps it was true what people said. No one wants to die alone, no matter how much they think they deserve it. And to think that a part of him had actually hoped that death would redeem him.

He grimaced at the thought, for the truth was that in the end his death wouldn’t make any difference. Lily was gone, dead, and after his miserable departure from this parody of life, she would remain as dead as before.

Would she want him to die in such a way? Would she want him to suffer for what he had done? He knew he deserved death. Indeed, he deserved agony and more.

His eyelids trembled, his throat tightening as tears streamed down his gaunt cheeks, disappearing in the crimson pool of blood beneath him.

Had she suffered like him when she had died? Had he possessed the strength, he would have grabbed his wand and ended it all, to hell with cowardice. He gritted his teeth as his eyes filled with blood.

There was no point in prolonging that agony, not now, not when he could no longer pretend to die staring at her beautiful eyes.

And yet, as a waste of a human being as he was, he would have given anything to see her one last time. It wouldn’t have been any different from asking for a bloody miracle, and miracles did not happen in Severus Snape’s life, he had personally seen to that. With his face glued to the floor, Severus stilled, awaiting the moment in which his heart would stop.

Slowly, his body began to relax, slackening its desperate grip to life. Before he knew it, his heart stopped and he was no longer in agony. The corner of his lip curled upwards, tracing the weary outlines of a half-smile; it was over.

He silently waited, anticipating the moment in which his conscience would leave him. He longed and prayed for death with all his might, but it did not happen.

For a moment that seemed to last an eternity everything was black; then his heart gave a hollow thud and he was pulled back. His fingers flexed involuntary, the sound of his restored heartbeat echoing painfully in his ears, his chest aching.

Something beneath the mangled skin of his neck was tingling, stretching like a snake shedding its skin.

Severus’ eyes snapped wide open and all of a sudden, he managed to scream. He felt the poison move once through his body, infecting his wounds. His heartbeat grew louder, the blood coursing through his veins, his head threatening to explode.

It was pain beyond anything he could imagine and he wanted it to stop, anything to make it stop.

He clawed at his chest, almost tearing apart the dark fabric in his drenched fingers. Again and again he screamed, and just when he thought his heart would finally stop, it slowed down again and he knew no more.

When Severus’s eyes opened once more, the sky was still dark outside and the night had grown quieter. The shattered windows of the Shack were no longer rattling and the wind was now nothing more than a light breeze. He let out a choked groan, his black eyes gleaming weakly in the moonlight.

He lifted his chin, looking up and studying without real interest the wooden beams creaking lightly on the ruined ceiling.

He frowned. Even through his blurred vision he could tell that nothing around him had changed. And yet, for a moment he had thought he had died, he had been sure of it. A deep crease formed between his eyebrows.

He tried to focus on his surroundings, desperate to remember; but his brain felt numb, his thoughts no more tangible than thin air. His memories of what had happened after the boy had left were veiled and confused, his attempts at remembering giving him the impression of trying to peer through a thick veil of mist.

He sighed, the silence around him strangely soothing.

He could hear nothing but his own breathing and the gentle caress of the wind. But something was wrong and as soon as he realised the physical impossibility of his own breathing, a new rush of fear flooded him.

Forgetting any previous tiredness, Severus’ heartbeat increased, every muscle in his body stirring painfully as he tried to move.

He tried to raise his head from the floor to no avail, for his torn muscles instantly succumbed to the dead weight of his head. He hissed, the blood pumping deafening in his ears. How long had he been unconscious? Was it hours? Days? Why was he still here?

Groaning in pain, Severus’s hand moved to reach his throat, trembling at the prospect of what he might find. He closed his trembling hand around it and flinched, his sensitive fingertips slipping on what appeared to be slimy, mangled skin.

He pursed his lips, his hand trailing down the left side of his throat, a cold shudder travelling down the length of his spine as he touched what felt like rugged scar tissue.

Torn between revulsion, fear and relief, Severus faltered, his expression oddly blank as a foreign feeling of warmth permeated through his skin, the memory of his gruesome death mended forever under those long, angry scars. He took in a deep breath, savouring the chilly air, welcoming the dull ache in his throat.

He was alive, but why?

He gulped, looking warily around him, half-expecting to find someone by his side, not knowing whether to thank or curse them; but no one was there. Severus’ brow furrowed in confusion. His fingers touched the scars on his neck. Had someone tended to his wounds? They must have. But who? Who on earth could have possibly wanted him to live?

Had it been his allies, who thought him a murderer and a traitor? Or the Death Eaters, who had loathed and resented him for his position in the inner circle? Severus sneered, for both parties would have gladly watched him die and burn.

Spies weren’t well liked in wars, especially if the spy in question was a poor, vicious half-blood who had never made a particular effort to be liked by society.

Indeed, at the age of thirty-eight, Severus Snape, former Headmaster of Hogwarts and the Dark Lord’s right hand, could have hardly called himself popular. He had never been loved in his youth and things hadn’t improved much with age. He scowled, disgruntled.

Quite frankly, he would’ve been lucky to find a single person in the whole Wizarding World who would not have deemed appropriate to leave his body to rot there. That was how popular and loved he was, Severus thought, his lips curling in a sneer, an expression that did nothing to improve his less than attractive features.

Had it been the much more pampered and adored Harry Potter to save him? The boy had loathed him almost as much as he had, but Severus knew that famous Harry Potter would’ve gladly saved his worst enemy if that meant being cheered and adored by his fans. Wasn’t that what his blasted father had always done?

“And you’re being really ungrateful. I heard what happened the other night. You went sneaking down that tunnel by the Whomping Willow and James Potter saved you from whatever’s down there”

Severus gritted his teeth, bile rising in his throat. Oh, yes, he could already imagine a stock of endless articles, the press going on and on about the Chosen One’s uncanny display of humanity.

He cringed, unable to conceive owing a life debt to such self-centred cretin. He sneered, his hairs bristling as he shuddered with the utmost disgust. Still; a small voice inside him told him that perhaps that wasn’t completely true.

Now that there was no longer the urgency of giving him his memories, Severus could see quite clearly that, weirdly enough, Potter had shown no joy in the face of his demise. There had been no hatred in Lily’s eyes, something that for some reason had left a bitter taste in his mouth. Hate he could easily deal with, but pity?

Had the boy truly come back? Severus’ face paled. The thought that Potter might’ve come back after viewing his memories, or worse that he might have shown them to the world, causing him to feel mildly sick. Yes, Potter was too much like his worthless father to pity him. He would no doubt relish in showing the world just how pathetic Severus was.

Still, the boy couldn’t have sealed his cursed scars, no matter how much the thought of his cheering fans or the fulfilment of his own saviour complex might have tempted him.

Regardless of his intentions, Potter junior didn’t possess one bit of his mother’s extraordinary talent, not an ounce of it.

Perhaps… Miss Granger? He forced himself to consider, his sneer getting more pronounced.

The insufferable know-it-all had probably some feeble grasp of healing magic. The fact that she didn’t sport a pair of bright green eyes and a lightning shaped scar, was enough to make her, if not a welcomed saviour, a less despicable candidate to be in debt with.

However, Severus could not fathom why she would find in herself to pity Dumbledore’s murderer. He scowled; he was currently running out of options, for the last member of the Golden Trio was most certainly out of question.

He groaned, too tired to think clearly, his face pale and grim as he looked at one of the shattered windows. He could see nothing but the dark sky and the pallid outline of a new moon. He frowned, that couldn’t be right, he could have sworn that the moon had been nearly full.

He forced himself to stumble to his feet, his legs trembling with the effort. The room swayed around him, the walls moving in and out of focus as the blood rushed to his head. Had they won?

He shut his eyes for a few seconds, leaning against the wall and fighting an increasing sense of nausea. He could have done with half a dozen potions, he thought, his hands covered in cold sweat. He blinked until the blurred floor slowly came into focus; the sight before his eyes turning his blood cold. A shiver ran down the length of his spine, his face turning as pale as the moon reflected on the black pool at his feet.

His nostril flared when he registered the sickening smell of his blood. He was drenched in it, drops of it falling from the tip of his hair to the floor beneath. Severus shuddered. He stared at the bloody prints marking the wooden slats, the blood leaking through its cracks like water. He swallowed, his face as white as a skull, as white as the man’s who had tried to murder him.

There was something wrong. He shouldn’t be alive, he thought, the sickening smell surrounding him nearly causing him to throw up.

He touched his throat, the scar tissue rough and uneven against his fingers. He winced, acknowledging that even though the wound seemed to have been healed, the blood on his neck was anything but dry.

He couldn’t have been unconscious for more than a few hours, he pondered, feeling a little queasy.

Well, that changed quite a lot, quite a lot indeed. As a matter of fact, it couldn’t have been a student to heal him. An ugly grimace formed on his lips as he assessed the pool at his feet. With that kind of injury, he would have been doomed even if someone had miraculously Apparated him straight into St. Mungo’s.

Severus glanced anxiously at the open door leading downstairs. He flexed his fingers, ignoring the uneasy feelings in the pit of his stomach; his instincts telling him that his survival must’ve been connected to some despicable form of Dark Magic.

Indeed, he would’ve begun questioning whether someone could’ve turned him into a Dark Creature hadn’t he felt the loud beating of his heart under his skin. Severus ran a hand through his filthy hair, looking around and thinking that as unnerving as it was, no answer would come to him from staring at those walls.

If only a few hours had passed, there was probably still a battle raging outside and he was in no shape to fight. Loathing the pathetic state of his body, he closed his eyes, listening.

His features scrunched up in concentration, his ears trying to catch the faintest of sounds. But he could hear nothing but the wind. No muffled screams nor explosions, nothing but the complete lack of the smallest sound that one could possibly associate with an infuriating battle. He gritted his teeth, both angry and displeased.

His eyes moved to the door, the old parquet creaking as he walked towards the stairs, striding on his unsteadying legs. He crossed the room, lingering on the threshold as he nearly stumbling on his feet. He frowned in confusion.

There was something… wrong with his body, he considered apprehensively.

It felt weak and unbalanced and very much unlike his own. He shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. And while he hadn’t consciously thought about what he was doing, Severus found himself strangely reassured when he realised that the large hooked nose beneath his fingers was as ugly and hooked as it had been a few hours before.

He scoffed, feeling rather foolish, because there truly was nothing wrong with his body. It was only to be expected that he would feel vulnerable after the ridiculous amount of blood he had lost; his brain wasn’t working properly.

While his fingers closed on the rotten banister, holding it so tightly that the wood creaked, another peculiar thought emerged from the depths of his mind. He stared at the floor and blinked, a crease forming between his eyebrows. Was the floor… closer?

He blinked again, irked by those thoughts. He was losing his mind. He could barely walk upright, of course the floor would look closer. Casting those unreasonable thoughts to the back of his mind; Severus started to descend the stairs, the hand resting on the banister barely able to support his weight.

His free hand tightened uncomfortably around the carved handle of his wand, his left hand unaccustomed to the feeling of it, the quick wrist movement necessary to cast the most complex spells foreign to those fingers. But it would have to do, he had no choice but to hold the banister with his dominant-hand if he wanted to get past the stairs. And after all, he had practiced enough with his left hand that he would still be able to cast some basic defensive charms. That and a few minor curses.

Severus stared at the steps in front of him, feeling nauseous and dizzy.

He leaned against the banister, continuing his descent, unable to shake off the absurd notion that, somehow, even in his weakened state, it should’ve been easier to support his weight, that somehow, the arm supporting him should have been stronger.

Five steps and he’d be on the ground floor, he thought, frustrated. Refusing to accept that he was indeed too weak to descend those last steps without aid, Severus released the banister, his right foot leaving the rug covering those last steps.

He was just about to reach the step below when his legs gave out. There was a sharp intake of breath and then, before he knew it, he was falling forwards. Waving his arms like a fool, Severus’s eyes widened with horror. He tightened his grip on the wand, holding it for dear life.

Alas, before his wrist could complete the necessary motion to arrest the fall, his face had already collided with the hard-wooden floor. He rasped, the world turning temporary black, his mind flooding with a hundred profanities.

As soon as the pain started to fade, his face flushed with shame and embarrassment. Unable to stop himself, he looked around, fearing that he might not be alone, that there might be someone ready to laugh at his back, ready to take advantage of his weakened state.

Severus would’ve bet all he had that his stupid students would’ve paid galleons to see him sprawled on the floor like that; he was sure of it. The feared and hated Potions Master now reduced to a pantomime of himself; too weak even to conquer five simple steps. What an amusing sight indeed.

Clutching his nose with both hands, Severus gritted his teeth, his filthy hair falling disorderly on his face. He waited for the pain in his nose and chest to subside, tracing his thin mouth with the tip of his tongue and pondering the damage. His upper lip had split, but unbelievable as it might have sounded nothing seemed to be broken.

He licked his lips, grimacing as he stood up. Merlin help him, he could barely stand after his stunt. He hated that wretched place, ever since Lupin. He froze, gulping as his eyes set on the tapestry, the walls bearing the signs of the savage beast that had nearly killed him two decades before. He shuddered as he unwillingly remembered how such claw marks had come to be.

The sharp fangs of the werewolf were bared as it advanced towards him, its muscles tensing beneath the grey fur as it prepared itself to bounce, ready to take his life. His breath grew shallow, his trembling hands cold and sweaty, the grip on his wand suddenly less secure.

Fucking Lupin, he thought, refusing to dwell any longer in that wretched place, his weakened state not helping him in keeping a clear mind.

Severus rubbed his forehead, a drenched strand of hair sticking to his lips. He spat, his mouth twitching with revulsion as his tongue caught the taste of dust and blood. It was in that moment that something moved in the corner of his eye. He startled, the grip on his wand tightening, the marks on the handle imprinting painfully on his skin, filling his mind with cold lucidity.

His head snapped to his right as he prepared himself to fight, but as soon as he saw what had caught his eye, his face lost what little colour it had left.

No… No, that wasn’t possible. He was losing his mind and sanity. He must’ve…

Severus looked down at his body, paling at the sight, his eyes immediately finding his face on the mirror. He raised a hand, startling when the boy mirrored his gesture, his thin, long fingers touching his cheek, his face covered in blood.

He let out a strangled cry.

Severus Snape had many faults, countless of them, but he had always been a man that had taken pride in his cold, logical nature. Was his mind finally failing him? Had he fallen prey of some sort of delirium? He took a deep breath, feeling lightheaded, for he knew he was not dreaming, his previous stunt down the stairs had proved him that much. He closed his eyes, his limbs aching.

He twisted the wand between his fingers, thinking hard. Was he hallucinating? Was it the snake’s venom?

Unlikely.

He had run too many tests on the blasted beast to have any doubt about it. He picked up a few slimy strands of hair, pushing them back so that he could have a clear view of that teenage face.

His face paled even more as he stared at the mirror, tracing the outlines of those forgotten features; the skin and bones underneath feeling both solid and alarmingly real. He shuddered, a horrible grimace contorting his youthful face.

Merlin, he looked young, too young for his own liking. Panic engulfed him; this was nothing short of a nightmare.

He pursed his lips, shock slowly turning into anger. If that was real, if he was neither dreaming nor hallucinating, the only remaining explanation was that someone had done that to him. And he would make sure that they’d pay.

He looked at the scrawny teenager, the corner of his lips pulling downwards with loathing, the sneer on his face making him look utterly ridiculous and nothing short of a petulant child. He averted his eyes, unable to look at himself for more than a few seconds.

Good Lord, was it even reversible?

Severus took a step back, his face growing rather pale as he looked once again in the mirror. His mind seemed to be intact, but what if he could not reverse it?

He gulped, the thought of spending the rest of his life looking like that causing him to feel mildly ill.

He stared at that forgotten face. He stared into the boy’s eyes, finding them old and weary and almost disturbing when paired with that face. He trailed his long fingers down the irregular surface of the mirror, frowning.

Why though, he thought. Why would anyone do that to him? In normal circumstances he would not have hesitated to say that the purpose was obviously that to ridicule him, but these were not normal circumstances. Indeed, they could have simply enjoyed the spectacle of watching him die, unable to breath.

He looked warily at his face, the complete absence of wrinkles and stretched skin an awful reminder that he was unlikely to be older than the stupid dunderheads he had the misfortune to teach.

How old could he have been? Fifteen, sixteen at most? Severus could not help but feeling queasy at the mere thought.

An amusing sight indeed. How though? Had it been a spell? A youth potion? What sort of cretin would give it to a dying man? Severus glanced at the ceiling, his gaze distant and unfocused as his mind went through a hundred different theories.

No… a youth potion would not have reacted well with the bleeding, let alone stopped it. It must have been a spell, it had to be; either that or something had gone very wrong with the healing process.

Perhaps someone had tried to transfigure his body to a point in which his throat had still been whole and intact. It was possible, theoretically speaking, but it would have been extraordinarily dangerous and a heinous form of magic, for it would have involved violating the very order of nature. The only wizard he would have thought capable of even attempting such a thing had been his former Master, the same Master that had carelessly murdered him.

Severus shuddered. And yet, it could not have been the Dark Lord. That monster had survived by being barely alive and more than a shadow, his face looking barely human after he’d come back from death. Dark Magic would not have stopped the Dark Lord from casting such a spell on himself, regardless of the price.

Severus let out a hollow laugh. The last thing the Wizarding World needed, the last thing he needed, was another Dark Lord around, especially one to whom he owed his life. He grimaced, his filthy hair sticking to his gaunt cheeks as his gaze focused on the dark tunnel in front of him.

Dark Wizard or not, he refused to lock himself in the Shrieking Shack and hide like a coward.

His eyes fell on the black wand clenched in his pale fingers.

“And if it does fall into his grasp, I have your word that you will do all in your power to protect the students of Hogwarts?”

Severus’ mouth twisted with displeasure, his knuckles growing white, his face pale and lifeless. He had made a promise. He needed to know if the boy was still alive, he needed to know who had won.

He needed to protect the students. If there was indeed still a battle raging on, he had to find him. Merlin help him if Potter died before he could fulfil Dumbledore’s plan.

As he shut out the possibility that he might soon found himself facing a graveyard, Severus stared at the tunnel where he had almost died twenty years before. Where he would have died not a day older than the face he was now wearing.

The irony was not lost to him.

Clutching the wand in his hand, Severus moved purposefully towards the tunnel entrance, his robes billowing as he limped through it, his figure soon swallowed by the darkness.

Chapter Text

There was darkness around him. He could feel his heart thumping in his chest, his wretched body threatening to give out at each step; the damp smell of earth and the familiar scent of his own blood clinging to his shoulders like a heavy blanket.

Severus sneered, his filthy hair getting tangled in the small roots covering the ceiling as he proceeded down that tunnel.

This will not do, he thought, cursing the pathetic state of his teenage form. He couldn’t honestly remember being this weak.

He was panting, his hand shaking as he clutched his knobbly knees. Despite his blotchy vision, it was in that moment that he noticed for the first time the filthy clothes covering him.

Severus’ lips pursed, an ugly flush spreading through his cheeks. Amusing, he thought. He eyed the school uniform that covered his figure with nothing short of loathing. He had been de-aged and dressed like a child. Despite his exhaustion, Severus could feel his blood boiling.

The uniform was so filthy that he wondered who might have gone such length to undress him, removing his clothes for no other apparent reason than laugh at the sight of Severus Snape’s now pubescent body.

He gritted his teeth, the anger and embarrassment he was feeling not dissimilar to the day in which James Potter and his gang had stripped him in front of the whole school, his genitals exposed for all the school to see. What an amusing sight indeed, Severus considered, unable to repress a shudder.

He briefly wondered what sort of twisted bastard might enjoy the sight of his naked teenage body. The thought caused him to bristle and recoil at the same time. He shuddered, forcing himself to focus on the present, his body screaming in protest as he tried to take another step.

Cold sweat was running down his face and back, the walls seemingly swaying all around him. Dark splotches appeared in his vision, so that all of a sudden, he had the impression he was going blind. He stalled, his fingers digging in the damp earth covering the passage walls around him. He tried to use the roots sprouting from the walls to keep himself upright, his body growing colder by the minute.

He took another few steps until his foot caught a thick root. He tried to free himself, but he could no longer will his body to move clearly. Before he knew it, he was falling; he felt a sharp pain on the side of his head, and then everything turned black.

‘Ah, Severus, I was starting to fear I would not be able to talk to you’ said a voice through the darkness.

Severus opened his eyes, closing them straightaway, the blinding light around him so intense that for a moment he felt as though he had looked straight into the morning sun.

He squeezed his eyes shut, red and yellow splotches appearing in his vision as his eyes painfully adjusted to the unwelcome brightness. He shielded his face with his right arm, his lips parting as his eyes found the tall, blurry figure of a man.

The man smiled; the sound of his footsteps lost in the silence that followed.

‘Albus?’ he muttered, his voice shaking with disbelief.

Dumbledore opened his arms, his eyes clear and bright in that unearthly light. For a moment Severus could only stare at him, his stomach churning at the sight of the man he had killed. He resisted the idiotic urge to pinch his arm, he knew that was no dream. Over the years, he’d become so dependent on Occlumency and Dreamless Sleep that he rarely dreamt anymore; and when he did, it was nothing but nightmares.

He must’ve been either delusional or dead, or perhaps a combination of the two. Whichever it was, Severus would not indulge this delirium.

‘You died’ he said scathingly, cursing himself when he was once again reminded that it had been him, the one to kill him. And now, if he was seeing Dumbledore, he was likely as dead as he was. Oh, how he’d loathed Dumbledore that day, hatred contorting his features as he’d taken his life. The Unbreakable vow had tightened its grasp on his heart as soon as Draco’s resolution had shuttered. And Dumbledore had had the gall to smile, never mind the burden placed on his soul.

Well, he supposed he ought to be glad it was finally over. Severus shuddered. He could feel his heart constricting in his chest, a tremor shaking his hands before he managed to Occlude those thoughts. The feeling of loathing however did not go away; Severus had never been one to forgive easily.

Dumbledore’s expression was both sombre and serene as he gave a small nod, the smile not fading from his lips.

Severus grimaced, the impossibility of their current predicament causing him to swallow his own bile for he too must’ve died. He sneered, his mouth twisting as though he’d tasted something bitter. He could vaguely recall waking up in the shack, miraculously alive if not a good two decades younger than he should have been.

He frowned. He had entered the tunnel, crawling until his young and broken body had been unable to keep going. It was only then that he remembered falling. He had hit the ground, and the last thing he could recall was the stabbing pain on the left side of his head.

Killed by a rock, what a pathetic way to kick the bucket, he thought, bristling. He sincerely hoped that people would refrain from writing that on his grave. Not that it would have mattered, he was of course unlikely to be found. He would likely rot there, his face devoured by filthy creatures. Had he been delirious? A part of him was hoping he had.

There was irony in the fact that he had almost died in that tunnel many years before; irony in the fact that Lily would have probably still been alive if he had. And here he was, only two decades two late.

Severus’ expression visibly darkened when Dumbledore, oblivious to the macabre nature of his thoughts, gave him another small smile.

‘No need to be upset, Severus. You have done well, very well indeed’ he said kindly, the statement so inexplicably wrong that Severus’ expression darkened even more, his lips tightening in a white line.

He stared at Dumbledore, anger prickling through him. It was a familiar feeling, a sensation he punctually encountered whenever Dumbledore jovially brushed aside important matters. Such as his brilliant plan of asking Severus to kill him, Severus’ mind promptly supplied. Indeed, the infuriating man had often discussed the deed as one would talk about the weather.

Alas, Severus had never been known to take such matters lightly.

For what was there to smile? Indeed, he would’ve preferred if Dumbledore had shown anger, anything but that infuriating smile. Had he not failed to fulfil his duty? He had sent the boy to die. He had sacrificed everything he’d ever stood for and sent Lily’s boy to his death in the name of war. She must’ve been rolling in her grave, because even though Severus had hated the boy, he had never wanted him to die.

All things considered; he most certainly had not done well.

He stared at Dumbledore, trying to detect any sign of insanity; he bitterly wondered whether the older man had finally gone senile.

‘I died’ Severus said coldly.

‘Well, yes, you technically did die, my boy. But you see, you are not currently dead, merely unconscious. And luckily for us, I would dare say. Were you not still on the verge of death, I doubt you would remember this conversation’

There was a pause. Dumbledore sighed.

‘You have been brought back, Severus. A second chance, if you wish’

Severus stared at the man who had been his only ally, his mind replaying those words without understanding. He took a deep breath. He had died, but he wasn’t dead. His jaw twitched, what did that even mean? Why did he have the feeling they had already had this conversation? One thing was certain, Dumbledore did not seem to have lost his fondness for being purposefully cryptic. He forced himself to look into those bright eyes, trying to detect the hints of a lie, but once again, Dumbledore’s concerned look seemed to be quite genuine.

‘Why?' he forced himself to say, his lips barely moving. He startled when his voice shook.

‘I did everything you asked of me. I gave him my memories and sent the boy to his death. By now Potter is probably as dead as I am… or as I was, if, somehow, you have miraculously managed to bring me back’, he said, his words heavy with irony; but there was also bitterness.

He couldn’t help himself. He would have never asked to be brought back; he had been ready to die. He would have welcomed death and Dumbledore in all his infinite wisdom, must have known it. There was nothing left for him to live now.

Dumbledore looked at him with pity.

‘I broke my vow, Dumbledore, and on your orders’ he added.

He had lived the entirety of his adult life trying to make amends, only to find out that not even death would be enough to redeem him. Was he destined to be brought back until the end of time? It sounded like the beginning of a nightmare. And the thought that there could be someone with such a power was nothing short of terrifying.

Dumbledore looked taken aback. Severus’ lips twisted in an angry grimace as he spoke.

‘I know what you want me to do, Dumbledore and I cannot. Look at me. How am I to protect the students or provide the necessary aid to the Order? Why bring me back if I am hardly of any use to anyone? Am I not even allowed to die now? What else could you possibly still want from me?’ he said, startled when he realised he was now shaking with barely suppressed anger.

For a moment Dumbledore merely stared at him. Severus grimaced, mouth twisted unpleasantly, as he regretted his emotional display.

‘I keep underestimating you, Severus. But no, you misunderstand me, you do not need to do anything you don’t want to. And Harry is quite well, actually. Did you know that he named his second child after the both of us?’ Dumbledore mused, stroking his long beard.

Severus blinked; his mouth frozen in shock. Whatever he had expected Dumbledore to say, it had not been this, for he could not have heard correctly. Potter, had had a… child? In the middle of a war? Dumbledore smiled, nodding slightly.

‘Oh, yes. He has been particularly stubborn in clearing your name. Wouldn’t hear a word against you’ he said lightly.

Severus stared, finding himself unable to reply.

‘Not unlike myself, you have made many mistakes, Severus. You have spent half your life trying to atone for your crimes. Now, we normally find some form of closure in death, but your unique capacity to love and unwillingness to forgive made you an exception to this rule. You see, Severus… you were in the most unusual position, because death wouldn’t have granted you peace. Wizards and witches like you, unable to find closure, are usually encouraged to roam the earth in the form of ghosts, but there was nothing in the present time that would have allowed you to eventually find peace. What I’m trying to say, Severus, is that your soul was too broken by pain and misery to move on. I acknowledge that my request did not ease your burden and I ask you to forgive me’ Dumbledore said, looking at him with haunted eyes.

Once again, Severus did not reply. He swallowed. He had a strong desire to say that yes, Dumbledore’s request had certainly not helped him in finding peace, but he knew that he’d be damned far before that. No peace, not even in death, he thought, bitterly. His father would have laughed; he’d always said that Severus and his witch of a mother had come from the devil. It was only natural Severus would suffer for eternity.

Some things were hard to forget. Severus had never believed in Heaven. He still remembered telling his father that even if there had been such a place, Tobias would not have ended up there. The statement had earned him one of the worst beatings of his life.

Dumbledore stared at him with something akin to sadness.

‘You do not deserve damnation, my boy, but your soul was parted between what had been and what could’ve been. You have been stuck in this place for a while, at least until the Fates concluded it would be highly dangerous for you to dwell here any further. I am merely here as a guide, a sort of Charon if you wish. I guide the lost souls, so that mine might find peace. You will be going down a different road; back to a time that would allow you to find closure. It is most unusual, but nonetheless possible. You’re very lucky’ he finished, his voice shaking slightly before he gave him a sad smile.

Severus frowned, looking at the ground as he tried to process the information Dumbledore had given him. His hair swayed slightly as though moved by a gentle breeze, the frown on his face darkened even more. Was it grass under his feet?

“A time that would allow you to find peace…”

Severus pursed his lips.

‘I deserve nothing’ he said after a while, looking truly angry for the first time in the conversation.

Dumbledore sighed, considering him with a resigned look, a look that did nothing to improve his disposition, for what had Dumbledore been expecting? Surely, he could not have really thought Severus would not question him. And indeed, it was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. A second chance given to him for his unique capacity to love. A second chance given to him for having spent his life wallowing in his own-created misery. Severus’ lips curled in a scornful sneer.

He did not deserve a second chance. He deserved every ounce of misery he had ever gotten and more.

He glared at Dumbledore, looking disgusted. He had long since come to terms with the knowledge that as long as he lived, he would never find peace. If Dumbledore thought that bringing him back to life would allow him to forget everything he had ever done in his past, then he truly was as much of a fool as the Dark Lord believed.

‘I believe you should have realised by now exactly how far back you travelled’ Dumbledore said gently, a kind expression on his face.

Severus felt a mad rush of anger, refusing to acknowledge that Dumbledore might be telling the truth. Then there was hope; he felt it before he could even recognise what it was. His was heart hammering in his chest as he struggled to keep his mind occluded. Everything to deny that impossible notion.

She was dead and so was he, he couldn’t have been young again, because that would’ve meant…

Severus’ fingers twitched. He closed his hands into fists as his body trembled with fury. It was utter madness. A twisted form of punishment meant to give him hope and take it away. Anger coursed inside his body, flowing in his veins like lava, until he could not control himself any longer.

‘You are not making any sense, Dumbledore! Or am I really to believe that someone would bring me back for no other reason than the integrity of my soul? What a bunch of nonsense!’ he snarled, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he spat the last words with all the contempt he could muster, which, considering his personality, was quite a lot.

Dumbledore looked at him with a wan smile, a note of sadness shining in his blue eyes as he sighed.

‘It’s a pity your extraordinary capacity to love does not extend over to yourself, Severus, but as I said, it’s already done’

Severus’ heart faltered; his heart beating so fast that he suddenly felt lightheaded. He closed his eyes, shaking his head as though suppressing the sliver of hope swelling in his chest. That could not be true. Frustration washed over his features as his dark eyes fixed on the Headmaster.

His extraordinary capacity to love, he thought, scornfully. She could not be alive and neither could he. There was no travelling back that far without losing oneself to madness; and of all the reasons that could have been given to him to justify this folly…

Not even Dark Magic had ever allowed wizards to alter the course of time this much. Had the memory of his youthful face not been still imprinted in his mind, Severus would’ve refused to believe that such thing could even be done.

He pursed his lips. Had he truly travelled backwards? That would explain the complete lack of screams and signs of a battle as well as the new moon. It would be moronic to completely disregard the possibility. But a second chance given for no other reason than his own… happiness? Severus was struggling to believe such a thing, for Dumbledore couldn’t have been serious.

Unless…

‘What about the Dark Lord?’ he snapped, his voice cold.

‘What about him?’ Dumbledore asked calmly, his gaze wondering to their surroundings as though Severus had just asked him what he thought of a particularly shaped cloud.

Severus’ mouth set in a very hard line, his face a stark contrast to the older wizard’s apparently serene features.

Death must have done something to him, Severus considered, fighting the urge to curse the other man. It was either that or Dumbledore was deliberately trying to see how long it would take for him to walk away and refuse to listen to any more of that nonsense. Severus gritted his teeth. Admittedly, he suspected it was most likely the latter.

‘The prophecy. You are telling me that I am free to do as I wish, but I am no fool, Dumbledore. Time cannot be rewritten. Not now and most certainly not when a prophecy is involved. Do not fool yourself into thinking that I am not aware of it. I turned my back to the Dark Lord, I did all in my power to stop him, and she still died. Everything we tried to do… everything I… it was all pointless. She is destined to have Potter’s spawn and die for him and I refuse to watch it happen again. Or is this a new twisted form of punishment?’ he spat, his voice breaking.

‘And even in the case that was true what about this future?’ he continued, ‘Has it all been for nothing? Because if that’s your second chance, Dumbledore, I neither want it nor need it. I would gladly die ten times over than go through it again’ he snarled, his chest heaving in anger.

Dumbledore stared at him, his eyes shining with something akin to sympathy.

‘Time is not written in stone, Severus. You should know better than anyone that we are nothing more than whoever we choose to be. You are placing too much weight on a single prophecy. Tom made a terrible mistake when he decided to act upon it, for no power in the world could have forced him to murder Lily and James Potter. As no power in the world will force you to step aside and watch them being murdered. As a matter of fact, I’m afraid that unless you can recall everything you have done in the past twenty-two years and choose to act accordingly, it is unlikely that history will repeat itself. Time is a very fragile thing, trying to control it wouldn’t be any easier than getting a hold on thin air’ he said, his long fingers brushing the intangible light surrounding them.

Severus scowled; his mind flooded by hundreds of thoughts as he averted his gaze. It all sounded too good to be truth, he thought as he begrudgingly forced himself to consider Dumbledore’s words. Even if he would rather die than deliver the blasted prophecy again, there was no way of knowing whether or not that pathetic excuse of a seer would blather it in front of the Dark Lord himself. Severus sneered. Of course, nothing would stop him from strangling Sybill Trelawney before she could even utter a single word about the possible outcome of the future. He would take care of the matter with the utmost pleasure, he considered, snidely.

He had abhorred that insufferable woman… both her and her moronic predictions of doom and death… staring at him as though his only purpose in life was to spy on her, convinced that he had no better things to occupy his time with, thinking he was trying to steal her trinkets. No, no one could possibly miss such a woman, her insufferable death predictions making her an unpleasant presence amongst staff and students alike.

Indeed, Severus had to admit that the thought of closing his hands around her throat was strangely pleasing, that would permanently keep her from talking, he thought cruelly.

His fantasies must’ve been clearly written on his face because Dumbledore gave him a reproachful look, not nearly as amused by his murderous thoughts as Severus had seemed.

‘Now, now, Severus, there is no need to show such resentment towards a fellow teacher. You see, there is no way of knowing whether this time, there will be a prophecy at all. Your presence in the past will create a ripple. As for our efforts, the future we created will remain untouched. No form of magic can undo twenty-two years of time and space. In fact, it would be more accurate to describe the place where your body will reside as a parallel universe, younger than our own, but nonetheless identical to it in every aspect’

Severus grimaced, massaging the bridge of his nose as he forced himself to take in Dumbledore’s words.

‘Another universe…’ he began wearily ‘and what about the younger version of myself residing in this… parallel world?’, he said, sneering at the last two words, ‘Am I to share his life?’

‘This universe had to go through an extremely complicated process to deal with your presence here, so no, you won’t have to share your other self’s life. In order to bring you here, it has been necessary to create a passageway. You see, two parallel universes are regarded as such because under no circumstance whatsoever they are supposed to touch. I will not be so arrogant as to pretend I fully understand it, but the process has been... more difficult than we were expecting. When the passage was created Nagini’s foul magic clung to your body and soul and you almost died again’ he said, gesturing to his scarred neck and pausing for a second.

‘You have been very lucky, Severus, very lucky indeed. Regardless, I cannot say I am not troubled by the circumstances we have created. Your younger self’s soul, despite being bound to go through the same events that would make it became yours, was yet to be tarnished. What happened to him is something I will never be able to approve’ Dumbledore finished with a serious look in his blue eyes.

Severus let out a deep breath, his shoulders visibly relaxing as Dumbledore’s words sank in. Good, he had been worrying about the prospect of facing his younger counterpart.

That certainly simplified things, for Severus was unable to share Dumbledore’s sympathy. If there was someone he loathed more than himself, that would be his past self, a boy who had been blinded by dreams of greatness and power. A boy who had turned into a cruel and hateful man. Severus would not have considered it past him to lock the foolish boy in a dark cellar until he was sure Lily was safe.

Still, he might not have been entirely be without morals, because the prospect of talking to a young Lily while her real “best friend” was locked in a cellar was strangely disturbing. She would have been disgusted by him; of that he was certain. Severus might have been hateful and cruel, but he would do anything in his power to ensure she survived. Dumbledore sighed.

‘I am afraid that nothing can be done at this stage. But please, try to make the best of this new life, Severus, never forget how much it has cost. As for your other questions; no, there is no catch. Time is not written in stone. You might be aware of the possible outcomes of this future, but you have no means of foreseeing how your actions will reshape it. Knowledge is a powerful tool as well as a great burden. You’ll have to be very careful; I do not need to tell you that you are not as safe as you think you are. A war is coming’

Severus gave Dumbledore a dark look, his eyes narrowing; he had been expecting Dumbledore to say something of the sort.

Meddling old fool…

‘I know what you are implying and there is no need, you know I will find you’ he said bitterly, for what other choice did he have?

One could argue that finding himself once again in the middle of a war was a small price to pay for Lily’s life; Severus would have been mostly inclined to agree. Or perhaps, the truth was that there was only so much time one could spend with meddlesome Gryffindors before their foolishness started to rub on them.

Dumbledore gave him a small smile.

‘I had my hopes, I admit’ he said serenely, his words causing a muscle in Severus’ jaw to twitch, for what exactly had Dumbledore expected him to do?

Prophecy or lack thereof, Lily, foolish Gryffindor as she was, would refuse to stand aside and watch the war unfold. Severus strongly believed that she would gladly sacrifice herself once again if that meant providing them with a chance to destroy the Dark Lord.

‘Then, you do not know me as you claim you do, Dumbledore. If you did, you’d know I find myself with little choice in the matter!’

‘I believe we always have a choice, my boy. But yes, I think I understand what you mean. As long as Lord Voldemort is alive, Lily is hardly safe’ he sighed.

Severus visibly winced; his mouth suddenly dry. He could have done without hearing those words aloud.

‘I am well aware. She is a Muggle-born and a Gryffindor. She will not be persuaded to stick her head in the sand whilst people like her friends and family are being slaughtered. That’s the problem with you Gryffindors, Dumbledore, you are too… noble for your own good, so ready to sacrifice your life at the first sign of injustice’ he said, grimacing as he averted his gaze.

‘And so are you’ Dumbledore acknowledged, his eyes twinkling benevolently behind his half-moon spectacles.

Severus startled. There was something that looked remarkably like pride in Dumbledore’s voice, something that instantly caused his chest to tighten. He grimaced, hastening to hide his surprise from those scrutinising blue eyes.

‘You know very well that I did not die for some idealistic nonsense. I did what I had to do to because of my own guilt, to expiate for my sins and… for her. I fought for what she believed was right, never truly believing in it myself until years later. There is… there is nothing heroic in that’ he said bitterly, spitting the last words as though he’d just swallowed something foul.

And yet, perhaps that wasn’t completely true, because while Severus had been lost for a long time, he’d like to think that her cause had also become his in the end. He had sacrificed the entirety of his adult life and had come to believe that they were fighting for something right. Too many people had died. And Severus had come to realise that the world the Dark Lord wanted to build was the selfish dream of a madman.

He looked up at Dumbledore, expecting him to realise the wrongness of his praises; but Albus’ expression did not change and Severus forced himself to swallow, unsure.

All his adult life he had been looking for the older wizard’s approval and now than he seemingly had it he had no idea what to do with it. Sure, Dumbledore had acknowledged him before, refusing to be fooled by his sharp tongue and unpleasant demeanour, but he had never looked at him with such fondness in his eyes.

Severus looked away, feeling unworthy of that kind of affection. Strange and long forgotten emotions were stirring under the surface, making him more uncomfortable by the minute.

‘There is nobility in that too, Severus’, Dumbledore said gently, ‘I also remember you saying you were tired of watching people die. You know, my friend, you should give yourself more credit’ he finished, eyeing him curiously as Severus forced his face in an emotionless mask.

‘Enough’, he snarled, ‘tell me what I need to know and let’s be done with it’ he said impatiently, his hands clenching into fists.

For a moment the light surrounding them flickered and Severus’ lips parted in shock.

‘Oh, I feared you would never notice’ said Dumbledore lightly as Severus looked around, his expression quickly darkening as he stared at the pale grass beneath his feet.

‘Why here?’ he asked wearily, unable to fathom why his afterlife would look like that wretched place.

There was a pause and a light breeze swept his black hair against his cheeks. His eyes darkened even more.

‘You seem disappointed’ Dumbledore stated, eyeing him curiously. Severus pressed his mouth in a hard line. Disappointed? That would’ve been an understatement. He looked at the top of the white hill, almost unrecognisable in the blinding light.

“You disgust me.”

Those words echoed in his mind, words coming from a lifetime ago, words that still managed to shake him to this very day. He shuddered, rubbing his left arm, a frigid shiver running down the length of his spine. He drew a shaky breath, his features hard in that unearthly light.

‘Why?’ he asked, before he could stop himself. ‘Why did you agree to meet me back then? You knew what I was’ he said bitterly, his mouth twisting in revulsion as he looked at Dumbledore, black eyes boring into blue ones.

‘I was hoping you still had something human left in you’ Dumbledore sighed, placing one hand on the younger wizard’s shoulder.

Severus flinched.

‘If I remember correctly, you went as far as to say I disgusted you’ he said harshly, an unwilling note of accusation in his voice, his anger meant to conceal how much power those words still held within his mind.

To this very day, he was unsure as of why those simple words had been able to shake the very core of his wretched soul.

He remembered very well the kind of man he had been, dwelling neck-deep into hatred and darkness, losing himself into it. Only when the Dark Lord had announced his decision to slaughter her family, the world had suddenly unveiled in front of his eyes.

It had been like waking up in a nightmare. He remembered the Dark Lord’s words reaching his ears, he remembered lifting his gaze from the ground and looking at his Master, truly seeing him for the first time. His heart had stopped right there, when those cold lips had uttered her name, the realisation of what he had done tearing his world apart.

In the following days, in his raving madness, all his thoughts had been focused on the Dark Lord’s plans and on Lily, whom he knew would refuse to stand aside. He hadn’t slept nor stopped for a second and it had only been after Dumbledore’s words that he had been finally forced to stop and look at himself. And Dumbledore had been right, because then he too had been disgusted.

In his desire to please, in his insatiable hunger for more and more power, he had signed a death sentence for the only person who had ever been good to him. He’d sold his only friend. His eyes had been so blinded by hatred that had it not been Lily in danger, Severus would not have cared. And why would he when the world had been so cruel to him? He would have gladly watched the world burn. He averted his gaze, a bitter taste in his mouth.

‘You seemed so unconcerned with Voldemort’s decision to slaughter an entire family and the part you played in it, that for a moment I thought you beyond salvation. I confess that, in that precise moment, it had not even occurred to me that a man like yourself could still be capable of love. When you told me you had asked Lord Voldemort to spare her, and only her, I thought your love to be nothing more than lust, your insistence to keep her safe as nothing more than an unhealthy obsession. You are not an easy man to read, Severus’ said Dumbledore, looking intently at him.

‘That is why I asked you what you were willing to give me in exchange, I needed to know how far you were willing to go. At last, your answer put some of my worries at ease. Though still wary, I started to believe there might be hope for you. I realised there was still some good left in you, something that not even your most despicable crimes had managed to annihilate. I believe that even back then it was love. But you see, Severus, despite popular beliefs, trust does not come easily to me and it wasn’t until Lily’s death that I started to understand the true nature of your affection. I trusted you then and I trusted you implicitly when you showed me your beautiful Patronus. I could not believe it. You and Harry were the living proof of everything I believed in’, Severus said nothing, but a small part of him fought the urge to scowl at being compared to Potter.

‘If you were not sure I would not betray the trust you placed upon me until that day, why did you give me a second chance?’ he asked quietly, realising for the first time how much Dumbledore had risked in trusting him.

He saw himself listening at the Hog’s Head door, his face distorted by poisonous greed, his lips twisted in a foul smile. Severus grimaced with revulsion, his throat tightening as he fought the urge to throw up. Why would anyone bother to listen to such disgusting vermin, running the risk of falling into a trap? Why not simply kill him?

He had thought Dumbledore had understood he loved her straightaway, but he hadn’t. If Severus were to be honest with himself, in his years as a Death Eater his love for Lily had barely managed to survive, more than once bordering on unhealthy obsession.

Indeed, love had nearly turned into pure hatred when he had learned about her marriage. It had been quite a degenerative stage for his Death Eater’s activities, the announcement pushing him to double his efforts in creating horrid potions and curses. Torture, murder… He had shattered his soul beyond repair, wanting nothing but the world to burn.

Severus sighed. Somehow, he doubted that the young man cowering on the top of that windswept hill would have been able to conjure a Patronus; for it had been her death that had wiped away any trace of anger from his heart, leaving him trapped in an endless circle of pain and misery. Back then he had quickly realised that he had had nothing left, nothing but old feelings and long forgotten memories.

It had been only when his heart had bled with remorse and guilt that his love had finally morphed into something pure, something capable of transcending death and bring her silver doe back to life. How something so beautiful had been able to come from him, Severus would never know, but he had been grateful for it.

Suddenly it was no longer a surprise why his afterlife looked the way it did. Something had died within him that night, allowing him to turn his back to the darkness. Dumbledore had seen it; he had sensed that he hadn’t been completely lost, choosing to trust him.

Where would he be now, were it not for Lily’s love and Dumbledore’s willingness to guide him away from that unfathomable darkness?

Severus bristled, knowing that had it not been for them he wouldn’t have been better than the Dark Lord. Lily had been too young and kind-hearted to fully see how damaged he was. She had not seen the man he had become; she had not seen him at his worst, but Dumbledore… Severus frowned. Dumbledore had seen exactly the kind of person Severus had become and had chosen to trust him.

Albus’ mouth stretched in a weary smile. An uncomfortable silence fell between them, until the old man’s lips quivered, his bright blue eyes darkening in pain.

‘Why, you ask, Severus? Why did I risk everything for the possibility you might be saved?’ he asked, his lips stretching in a bitter smile.

‘Because if you didn’t deserve a second chance, my boy, neither did I’ he said hoarsely, closing his eyes for a moment, his voice trembling slightly. When he opened his eyes once more, they were full of tears.

‘I too have been a fool in my youth, drawn by speeches of glory, blinded by my own arrogance and power. You… you must have heard…’ he said, bitterly, his voice full of self-contempt, an emotion only too familiar to the Potions Master.

A single tear escaped those blue eyes, gliding down Dumbledore’s cheek and disappearing into his silver beard. Severus waited, still unable to speak, but merely looking away, allowing the older wizard the time to recompose himself. He would not have wanted to have Dumbledore witness him crying.

‘If you are under the delusion that I wasted my precious time reading that foolish woman’s inane gossips, then you are sorely mistaken. But, yes, I have heard… rumours. Regarding your family and some… questionable friendships’ he said roughly, shamefully recalling Lily’s letter.

Dumbledore looked away, his expression a mask of guilt and shame. Severus took a deep breath, uncomfortable and completely out of his depths. He wasn’t good with people’s feelings. Why, more often than not his attempts to comfort Lily had been poor at best. That was of course when he had not outright managed to make things worse. Things had not improved much with age.

Dumbledore muttered something unintelligible, his mind seemingly far away, the wretched guilt in the man’s eyes causing Severus to avert his eyes.

‘I’m not asking for an explanation, Dumbledore’ he said wearily, Dumbledore’s discomfort quickly becoming his.

The older wizard gave him a weak smile.

‘Truth is a curious thing; don’t you think Severus? I’m afraid that after Harry managed to clear your name, Rita Skeeter decided to take the matter in her own hands’ he said. Had Potter showed his memories to the public?

Severus grimaced, paling at the thought of, Merlin forbid, having be depicted as a tragic romantic hero. He felt sick to his stomach. He shook his head, his face pale as his eyes slowly found Dumbledore’s.

‘Do you believe it?’ Dumbledore whispered after a while, his voice pleading, making him sound like a frightened child.

Severus frowned, his own eyes darkening before he shook his head.

‘That you killed your sister? No, I cannot say I believe it’ he said quietly.

‘But what if I did?’ Dumbledore asked in a haunted whisper, sounding so terrified that Severus found his heart was beating faster.

He looked helplessly at his mentor; those haunted eyes lost in past memories. A part of him suspected that Dumbledore himself didn’t know the answer to that question, for the truth had the potential to be unbearable. Would it even matter at this point? Severus knew better than anyone that there was no changing the past.

‘I hope you realise, Albus, that I am hardly the right man to judge you. Your past is yours to live with, I have heard enough to know that you’d be a very different man without it. I do not need to hear more’

Dumbledore gave a weak nod; his lips forming a wan smile as he looked at him, tears gleaming in his bright eyes, the dark shadows on his lined face slowly leaving his features.

There was a pause and when Severus fixed his eyes on him once again, Dumbledore was no longer crying.

‘Thank you, Severus, I really appreciate it’

Severus gave a stiff, reluctant nod.

There was a pause. Dumbledore looked at the pale grass, the increasing light around them making it slowly disappear under their feet.

‘I fear our time’s up, my friend. This is where we must part our ways. I’m afraid I cannot tell you too much. However, I believe that in this particular case one word will suffice. Horcruxes. Bear this word in mind, do not forget it, and you will find that I have shared with you more than you initially thought’

Severus’ lips parted, his eyes widening with alarm; the man’s name frozen on his lips as he took a step back.

Dumbledore merely smiled.

‘Good luck, Severus. I hope that one day you’ll find within yourself the peace I’ve never been able to find in my own heart’ and with a last smile, Dumbledore was gone.

Chapter Text

The first thing Severus noticed when he stumbled out of the narrow tunnel leading back to the school was the eerie silence around him. He wheezed, struggling to catch his breath. His black eyes widened when he finally raised his head from the root-covered ground, the sight in front of him startling him into silence.

An incredulous gasp found its way past his lips, the truth of Dumbledore’s words finally sinking into his soul as he looked at the castle in front of him, its tall towers standing proudly against the dark, starry sky.

He swallowed hard. Upon his awakening, the most cynical part of him had spent the following twenty minutes questioning his sanity. Indeed, he’d been tempted to disregard his encounter with Dumbledore as the mere product of a dying man’s fantasy.

Severus stared at the view extending before his eyes. Everything around him seemed to confirm what Dumbledore had said, because the castle in front of him looked… untouched, undamaged…

The lawn, devoid of dead bodies and ruins, was of a dark and beautiful green, the grass moving sluggishly in the slumberous breeze. A faint trace of smoke was rising slowly from Hagrid’s hut, the hooting of an owl being the only thing breaking the silence around him.

Severus turned around; his eyes veiled by dark thoughts as his gaze fell on the entrance of the hidden tunnel. He stared at it as though it had transported him into a strange world.

He blinked, tracing the gnarled bark of the young tree beside him. A confused frown formed on his face, for there was something weirdly familiar about it. Still staring at the white hand pressed against the bark, Severus raised his head. With its dangerous branches still resting motionless against the sky, there stood the Whomping Willow, only a few feet taller than he was.

He staggered back, Dumbledore’s words barely helping him to deal with the physical evidence that the old Headmaster hadn’t been lying. It was as though someone had removed him from a nightmare and placed him in a different and eerie world; a world where no war had ever happened.

He looked up at the castle, the thought of hundreds of people sleeping quietly inside it, unaware of the horrors of the future, making him feel like an unwelcome outsider. What right did he have to intrude upon that world? A cold shiver ran down his spine as he made his way towards it, ignoring the part of him that was cynically reminding him how that he ought not to be there, for he no longer belonged to that world. A world where she was still alive.

Severus froze for a moment, his throat suddenly dry, his chest tightening. He could not think about that now.

He paused, staring at the small entrance of a hidden passageway that he had often used to leave the castle unnoticed. Trembling slightly, he tapped the door with his wand and stepped inside it. After a good five minutes he emerged in the middle of the second-floor corridor.

He gulped, his face whitening, his black wand held tightly in his unsteady hand as he prepared himself to be attacked. The castle, however, remained silent.

He raised his wand, casting a Disillusionment Charm onto himself. He felt cold and sweaty, the effort nearly causing him to lose his footing; his fingers trembling madly. He forced himself to take a deep breath, grimacing as he looked at the blurry outlines of his body.

What a pathetic display of magic, he thought, disgust clearly etched on every line of his face. He was painfully aware that the charm would not be powerful enough to fool a fully trained wizard and Severus could not afford being discovered.

His body was tense, irrational as it might be he could not forget that mere hours earlier half the staff had been determined to kill him on sight. And why wouldn’t they after he had killed their beloved Headmaster? Why, Minerva-

Severus stopped dead in his track when his ears caught a muffled sound of voices.

He pressed his side against the wall, hiding in the shadows. He could feel his heart beating fast, fear flooding his brain as he realised that he was too tired to defend himself.

He waited, struggling to keep himself focused. It was only when the voices grew nearer that he realised how young they both were. Students, he thought, an unpleasant sneer forming on his young face as he sighed with relief.

Out of bed at this untimely hour of the night to do Merlin knows what. How very typical...

Had he not been both magically and physically exhausted, he would have gladly stepped out of the shadows to bring them back to their dormitories, subtracting the House points of whichever house they belonged into negative. Were they coming back from a nightly trip to the Forbidden Forest?

He had never understood the students’ willingness to yearn for an early death, as if the wild rush of adrenaline they got from breaking the rules could possibly justify endangering their own lives.

Severus grimaced, feeling positively sick at the idea of launching himself in a run to chase the stupid students half way up the castle, he was too tired and old for it. He grimaced, rubbing his eyes, his mind slow to remember that he was now no older than they were and that consequentially, he too was breaking the curfew.

Severus scowled at the wall. What if it was Potter? That would surely complicated things for he wasn’t sure he could successfully perform an Obliviate Charm in his current condition. He was both magically and physically exhausted as well as quite defenceless, but his Disillusionment Charm, though weak, should have been enough to keep him relatively hidden. Indeed, unless Potter had his stupid map, it would be powerful enough to fool both him and his friends.

Leaning against one of the pillars, Severus sighed, waiting for those insufferable curfew-breakers to pass him and subsequently get out of his way. Merlin knew how badly he needed a good night sleep and a few Blood-Replenishing Potions. Indeed, it was a miracle he had not fainted again; he thought, mildly embarrassed.

He felt sick at the idea of climbing all the way up to the Hospital Wing to access the Mediwitch’s personal stocks. The only other option was Slughorn’s office. Severus shivered. He felt cold, he rubbed his arms against his bony shoulders, his pathetic excuse for a uniform failing to offer any kind of comfort.

He looked up at the large windows on the opposite wall. It was still dark. Was it still May? With the ridiculous blood loss he had just suffered it was impossible for him to trust his perception of temperature. Another shiver ran down the length of his spine. How much he longed for the moment in which he would finally reach his personal quarters, placing himself in his favourite armchair, only a few inches from a warm, roaring fire.

His eyes closed, the shivers no longer shaking him as he anticipated that glorious moment, that was until his brain reminded him that in this time, he didn’t have personal quarters. His lips twisted into a grimace. The castle, the Whomping Willow, the blood on the floor, his newfound health and youth… he would be a fool to deny the reality of it; but what about his encounter with Dumbledore? Had it been nothing but a wild dream?

No, the information shared between them had been oddly abstruse and specific, he thought, frowning again as he remembered that word…

Horcruxes…

No, snake venom or not Severus did not believe this to be a product of delirium; but what about the other things Dumbledore had wanted him to acknowledge?

Lily alive and well? To hell with Dumbledore and his inane blabbering about the transcendent power of love, he would have to see it with his own eyes in order to believe it. He knew he wouldn’t survive the disappointment. Severus swallowed, both hopeful and quite frankly terrified at the prospect of seeing her once again.

He flinched when the muffled sound of voices he had heard before became not only nearer, but also loud enough to be discernible.

‘Come on, I don’t believe you don’t fancy him, everyone does, he’s so gorgeous and you are so lucky! He… he likes you!’

‘Good for him Loretta, because I don’t! He’s just an arrogant toerag and a bully’

Severus froze, his legs going numb as he stood there, suddenly unable to breathe. He physically recoiled, his face draining of all colour.

Lily…

He shivered, painfully glued to the cold stone, his knees buckling as he pressed a hand against the wall, desperate for support, the sound of his heartbeat deafening him. Was he hallucinating? What… what was she doing there? How could she be there?

‘Oh, come on Lily, are you blind? He’s the most popular boy in school and he fancies you!’ the girl continued.

Their footsteps were growing louder. Severus froze, terrified at the prospect she might catch a glimpse of him.

‘Does he? Well, he certainly has a funny way of showing it!’ Lily argued, her voice heavy with dislike.

Severus’ eyes narrowed in pain. He swallowed, unable to understand a word of what she was saying; the physical impossibility of hearing her voice again and after almost two decades too much for him to bear. He let out a strangled sound, feeling slightly nauseous as two girls emerged from the darkness of the corridor, their long shadows shifting lazily on the opposite wall.

Severus could not move, he could only stare, barely breathing and clinging to her figure like a drowning man. He looked at her through a haze of pain as she stopped right in front him, leaning against the opposite wall. Never in all his life had he thought he would see her again. He vaguely noticed the light frown on her face, her beautiful eyes bright and full of life.

Despite all he had done, she was standing there, leaning against the wall right in front of him, breathing and speaking as none of it had ever happened. Before he knew it, tears were streaming down his eyes, washing the blood away from his cheeks. His legs were trembling, his chest heaving, the shock and guilt making it hard to breath. Unable to support his weight anymore, he slid against the wall. He closed his eyes, a choked sob escaping his lips as he lost what little control he had left.

He didn’t see Lily turning with her wand at the ready; what he heard was a scream. His eyes snapped open as a deafening clatter filled the air, the dismantled pieces of a suit of armour scattering all over the floor.

The girls started to argue, but Severus was unable to wrench his eyes from her. He stared at her flushed cheeks, taking in every single detail of her beautiful face. It was almost unbearable, to have her here and know he’d been the reason he killed her. For a man that often thought of his crimes as unredeemable, Severus wouldn’t have put it past him to beg for forgiveness now that she was here. He’d often wondered whether it would make any difference.

Fuck, he thought, the sudden proximity of the voices pushing him back to reality.

‘It came from there, Loretta, you heard it too, you can’t possibly think we both imagined it’ Lily said, frowning at her friend and looking worried.

‘And why’s that? No one’s there!’ the girl snapped, pointing at the shadows and sounding almost hysterical.

‘Well, they’re probably gone by now. Oh, Loretta, why did you have to be so clumsy…’

The girl pouted, kicking one of the pieces of armour on the floor and managing to hit him. He bit down on his tongue to stop himself from hissing a curse, pain bursting in his knee as he forced himself to take a deep breath. He glowered at the stupid girl, seething, his anger quickly fading into nothingness when Lily’s eyes fixed on him.

Severus froze, his mouth suddenly dry. He could barely think straight, grimacing as he pressed himself harder against the cold stone walls, his eyes widening as she stepped closer. He gripped his wand, gritting his teeth, the idea of Obliviating Lily making him physically ill. He found himself praying that the ground would swallow him whole as she drew nearer, her fingers stretching towards him.

Indeed, as much as a part of him craved her touch, Severus did not dare to think what she’d say if she saw him like this. She must’ve been close enough to smell him because all of a sudden, she drew back ever so slightly, her mouth twisting in a grimace as she covered her nose with the back of her hand, frowning.

Severus’ face whitened. Blood. It wasn’t as strong as it had been in the Shack, but it was enough for her to notice and recoil.

‘Lily, what you doing?! Come back here, don’t leave me alone!’ shrieked Loretta, her voice trembling with fear.

But Lily was barely listening, her eyes still fixed on him. Severus adjusted his grip on his black wand, feeling his unruly heartbeat in his sweaty cold fingers as with a quick movement of his wrist he caused the blood on his body to disappear into thin air. He felt suddenly lightheaded, his wand arm shaking.

Lily blinked, the worried look in her eyes suddenly becoming one of uncertainty. Her face setting in a light frown.

‘Lily, please, can we go now? No one’s there and… and I really don’t like patrolling the castle at this hour of the night. It’s dark and scary and what if…’ she stopped, apparently unable to finish.

Severus held his breath, but after a moment or two Lily sighed and her gaze finally shifted back to her friend. She looked both worried and disappointed.

‘It’s just… I just thought I saw something’ she said, her voice heavy with uncertainty.

Loretta shifted uneasily on her feet, her eyes flickering anxiously between her friend and the dark shadows.

‘Yeah, well, it must’ve been a trick of the lights’ she said with a nervous nod, giving Lily a reproachful look. Severus did not need Legilimency to know that she was most likely cursing her and all the members of her imprudent House.

Lily’s lips stretched in an apologetic smile. She looked one last time in his direction, then forced herself to reach her friend; despite all a dark look still clouding her eyes.

It was only then that Severus let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. He averted his eyes, using the back of his hand to wipe away the tears.

Severus leaned against Slughorn’s desk, staring at the deserted room, five empty vials lying scattered at his feet. He wetted his dry lips, the metallic taste of the Blood-Replenishing Potion strangely comforting as he closed down his eyes.

He ran a hand over his face, his encounter with Lily still shaking him to the very core. He waited a minute before downing another potion, torn between gratefulness and scornful disapproval. He had feared he’d be too weak to get past Slughorn’s wards, but to his greatest disapproval a simple Alohomora had done the trick. He had never been so careless, never failing to be wary of students. Why, Potter and his friends had relished at the idea of stealing from his personal stores.

Slughorn had always put too much faith in his students, that was until one of his best students had become a murderous dark lord. After the second war he had also been wary of Severus, slowly relaxing in his presence when Dumbledore had silently reassured him. Not that such a thing had worked in his favour when Severus had murdered the old Headmaster. As far as the staff was concerned, Severus had been nothing but a monster.

He grimaced, vanishing the empty vials and making a mental note to brew back what he had taken. Not that he would have any money to pay for the ingredients.

He could think more clearly; now the freezing cold he’d been feeling was starting to leave his tired limbs. He ran a hand through his hair as the Strengthening solution worked through his body. He felt his eyelids growing heavy, but forced himself to stay awake.

He let out a humourless laugh when he realised he’d have to head to the Slytherin dormitory. He got up, swaying slightly and left the office that had been his for fifteen years.

Casting another quick, but this time quite powerful Tergeo on himself, he silently walked towards the dormitory. The blood on his clothes and skin was completely gone, but he was too tired to shower. Alas, he had no desire whatever of breaking his neck in order to look completely clean. Besides, he would also need to guess the bloody password before he would be able to enter the dormitory.

Yes, the shower would have to wait.

Severus woke up with a startle, untangling himself from the bunch of sheets of his four-poster bed, his eyes frantically moving around. He clutched his neck, his fingers feeling sticky with blood. He turned around, only there was no blood, his hands covered in cold sweat.

He sat up, wiping the sweat away from his forehead, his chest heaving as he came to the realisation that he was still alive and no longer on that floor. He shuddered, trying to shake off the sickening memory of having Nagini’s fangs still buried in his throat.

Blasted snake, he thought, rubbing his scarred neck, the swollen scars throbbing painfully under his fingers. That was a feeling that would likely haunt him for many nights to come.

He sighed, allowing himself to fall back on the mattress, an annoyed expression plastered on his face as he rolled to the side, meeting the end of the bed. Letting out a frustrated sound, Severus returned to his previous position. He stared at the green curtains of the four posters bed, Mulciber’s loud snoring causing him to sneer.

For fuck’s sake, he thought. For a moment he had almost forgotten where he was… in a stupid dormitory surrounded by equally stupid and misguided teenagers. He scowled as he caught a glimpse of his body, the visual reminder of being in that body again most unwelcome. His mouth thinned, his hand reaching out for the wand he had placed under his pillow.

He pointed it at the drawn curtains and started to murmur under his breath, undoing the complicated wards he had, perhaps unnecessarily, placed around his bed. He had known with certainty that not one of his roommates would be able to get past those spells, but the mere knowledge that he would have to sleep in a dormitory full of other people had disturbed his sleep.

He shut his eyes; he felt… ill. His neck hurt, the lack of sleep and empty stomach making him nauseous. Severus rubbed his eyes with a heavy sigh. That was not good. Lately he had rarely slept more than five hours a night and he had been just fine. Why couldn’t this stupid body cope? Either way, at least he would no longer have to patrol the corridors at night for fear that one of his Deputies would accidentally kill a student.

Regardless, the nightmares were going to become a serious problem. This body was not addicted to Dreamless Sleep, but his mind…

He grimaced. He was very much aware that, over the past year, he had only been functioning thanks to his extensive knowledge in potions. He had been aware of the side effects. He had barely eaten, the increasing paranoia during his waking hours causing his health to quickly deteriorate. Severus had looked and felt old. Merlin knew even now, an Invigoration Draught would not have gone amiss, he thought.

He sighed, thinking of his private stores, all his precious ingredients and formulas stuck in a faraway future. He had never been a materialistic man, but he had valued his books. It suddenly struck him that he had nothing. Indeed, he remembered quite clearly that the ragged school robes he had been wearing had been his best piece of clothing.

No house, no clothes, no books. Everything he had ever owned was now gone forever. Had it all been destroyed during the Battle of Hogwarts? Minerva had hated him to such an extent that Severus had no doubt she would have taken upon herself to banish every reminder of his presence from the castle. As for his private lab and stores, he could imagine all too well in whose hands his possessions might now be.

Slughorn had never been shy when it came to taking advantage of unpleasant situations. Indeed, while he was sure no one else would’ve looked twice at his personal stores, he had no doubt that for the Old Potions Master his death would be an occasion too good to be wasted.

He still remembered how Hagrid had informed Dumbledore of Slughorn’s decision to pay his respects to his abhorrent pet.

“Touching… such a lovely funeral, he would’ve loved it”, he had said, his dark eyes welling up with huge tears, his large face turning into a mawkish mess. Severus had just stared at him, torn between utter disbelief and an increasing urge to sneer. The half-giant had had no concept of pride or dignity, that much had been clear from the very beginning, but it was his ingenuity that Severus could neither stand nor understand.

A lovely funeral indeed.

It certainly had been lovely for Slughorn, for Severus could imagine all too well how Slughorn’s must’ve paid his respect to Hagrid’s first friend; his eyes gleaming greedily as he loomed over the Acromantula’s body, a multitude of vials of the spider’s venom tinkling cheerfully under his large cloak as he scuttled back to his quarters, a smug expression plastered on his round face as he ran away with a fortune.

Severus sneered, yes, what a touching scene, indeed.

Not a single vial had been shared with him, with Slughorn letting out an awkward cough when Hagrid had mentioned the whole ordeal during dinner. Needless to say, Severus had not been pleased; whereas Dumbledore had conveniently turned a deaf ear.

He scowled, shuddering as his bare feet touched the floor, his body feeling all wrong and unbalanced as he stood. He steadied himself, his brain slowly registering that he must’ve lost at least four inches in height. He grimaced.

After checking than no one was awake, he headed out of the dormitory.

He stopped for a moment, looking at the Slytherin Common room, his eyes moving to the corridor leading to the bathrooms. The thought of sharing a bathroom with teenage boys made him feel mildly ill. He had done his utmost to avoid other students when he had been one of them; the last thing he had needed was a Pureblood noticing the scars on his back.

Severus would have been reduced to a laughing stock; for what sort of wizard would have allowed a Muggle to reduce his body in such a state? They would have laughed, as they had all laughed when they had caught a glimpse of his underwear and of how ugly and pathetic Severus Snape was.

Severus sneered. The last thing he needed was to have them ogling at him. Merlin help him, he had no intension of sharing a bathroom with a bunch of teenage boys again.

Turning the shower handle unceremoniously, Severus placed his head under the gelid stream of water. He gritted his teeth, closing his eyes, both hands placed on the wall as the water warmed up. A simple time keeping spell had told him everything he had needed to know. Day and month had not changed, but he had been right in assuming he could not have been older than sixteen.

1976…

As the tepid water streamed over his body, washing away the disturbing memory of his horrible death, the events of the previous night started to sink in.

Lily…

He squeezed his eyes shut as the water became warm. His chest tightened, his eyes prickling with shameful tears at the memory of her. He took a deep breath, clinging desperately to the blurry images of the previous night, fearing they might soon fade like a long-forgotten dream. Good Merlin, he was pathetic.

It stood to reason that he would see her again, probably that very day. After all, it wasn’t as though she would suddenly drop dead, his mind supplied scathingly. The thought inevitably caused him to wince, guilt rearing its head like an ugly beast. He really should not be allowed in the same room as her, not after what he’d done.

Severus grabbed the soap with trembling hands, burying his fingers in his greasy hair and scraping his scalp quite vehemently, the memory of the blood that had been dripping from it a few hours before causing him to grimace.

He stiffened when his hand met the bony jags of his spine, his hands lingering on his protruding ribs; the scars on his back, courtesy of his father, more sensitive than he remembered. Merlin, this body was even thinner than the one he’d been in. He hissed as trail of soap slid down, pain radiating through his body until he was left gasping for breath. His eyes watered.

Fuck…

He shouldn’t have been alive.

Severus closed his eyes, gritting his teeth as he scrubbed the rest of his body, his protruding hipbones and lankiness of his limbs causing a new rush of self-loathing. He was left with the uncomfortably feeling of washing someone else’s body. Merlin helps him, with the pathetic state of this body and recent injury perhaps he should be worrying about dropping dead, he thought, scathingly.

Turning the slippery handles harshly, Severus’s hand reached out instinctively to his right. He scowled when he found no towel, striding towards a nearby cupboard and dripping all over the floor. His eyes fluttered to the cupboards doors, silently pleased when he found what he was looking for.

He sat on a stone bench, crossing his legs at his ankles. He ran a hand on his face, feeling physically exhausted. He took in the deserted bathroom, his body slowly abandoning all the tension he had previously experienced in sleeping in a crowded dormitory, his discomfort partially Occluded.

Letting out a deep breath, he rested his back against the stone wall. He could consider himself lucky that no one had thought of changing the password for that particular bathroom in the last twenty years; he thought, the faint glimmer of the lake shimmering through the windows.

With a flick of his wrist, Severus performed the time keeping spell again.

Half past six.

He frowned, getting up and glowering at the tattered school robes neatly folded on the stone bench. His lips curled in displeasure as he lifted them in the air, holding them with the tip of his fingers as though he was dealing with a particularly nasty potion ingredient.

The thought of having to wear them after they had been covered in soil and blood only a few hours prior caused his skin to prickle. No matter how irrational it might have been, he would have gladly set them on fire. And Severus would have likely burnt them had he had anything more than two pairs of old trousers and Tobias’ old t-shirts in his trunk.

Severus felt his face flush, his fingers twitching as he touched the offending rags with the tip of his wand, washing them to the best of his abilities and at the same time repairing a few holes. He stared at them with narrowed eyes. It wasn’t much, but pitiful as it was, he supposed that the tattered robes did not look that different from your average hand-me-downs now.

He pulled the robes over his head, the fabric worn down and itchy against his bare skin. A muscle in his jaw twitched. And to think that that pitiful excuse for a uniform was his best piece of clothing. Not that, at the present moment, Severus could not have worn his teacher robes without looking utterly ridiculous. Without some tailoring spells he would have looked more or less like a child in adult clothing.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

Not bothering to dry his hair, Severus headed towards the door, stopping dead in his track when he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. His heart skipped a beat, his reaction similar to that of people startled by the glimpse of a reflection they initially thought belonged to a stranger. He gulped, unnerved, the morning light making that face all the more disturbing.

He could hear the small drop of water sliding down his drenched strands, dripping on his collar, soaking it. He did not know why, but he slowly walked towards the mirror.

Removing a wet strand from his eyes, he stared at that unlined face; not even the dark shadows under his eyes managed to make him look much older than he was. His eyes were as dark as they’d been, but apart from that it was almost like staring at someone else’s reflection.

His face was thinner and less defined than it had been as an adult. He could no longer spot the beginning of wrinkles starting from the corner of his eyes. Gone were the deep lines around his mouth and between his eyebrows and without them, Severus could barely recognise himself.

He stared at the emancipated boy in front of him, his face sallow. It was a pitiful sight, really, he considered, staring at his gaunt cheeks, his cheekbones doing nothing to improve the sight of a nose that was clearly too big for that thin face. Severus sneered. While none of his features had definitely improved with age, he had long forgotten how comically ill-fitting that nose used to look on the face of a gangly teenager.

Still sneering, he looked at his mouth. His thin lips were curled, revealing a set of uneven white teeth, yet to become yellow and stained. He knew it would not last long if he started again to abuse at least five different kinds of Potions per day, which, added with the occasional neglect, had done little to improve his appearance.

He stared at his reflection, growing more uncomfortable by the minute. A small strand of hair escaped from behind his ear, his face paling as he slowly brushed it away from the left side of his neck. His stomach churned. It wasn’t a pretty sight, the collar of his black robes unable to hide the blatant fact that he should not be standing there alive.

His insides squirmed, his face whitening as he pulled down the collar, the sight causing him to feel mildly sick. Had it not been for the slight rising and falling of his chest, the boy reflected in the mirror could have been easily mistaken for a corpse. And indeed, Severus certainly felt like one; the ghastly marks of Nagini’s fangs were running from just below his ear to his collarbone, looking angry and swollen.

He grimaced, hissing in pain as his fingers brushed against the swollen tissue, the phantom feeling of the Dark Lord’s magic and the snake venom under his fingers causing a sudden surge to throw up. He closed his eyes for a second, his fingers trembling.

It looked and felt as though something had taken a bite off him, but as sickening as it was, he supposed it could have still been worse, he thought as he was suddenly reminded of Mad-eye Moody.

And yet, he had a problem, for he did not dare consider what kind of questions the sight of those scars would evoke, he thought with a grimace. The Dark Magic still lingering under the skin even the dumbest of healers would’ve been unable to explain why such life-threatening wound already displayed such advanced level of scarring or why, for that matter, Severus was still breathing.

Severus averted his eyes; a powerful charm should be able to hide it. Not that his parents would have cared to see their son disfigured. From a young age his father had taken upon himself to remind him he was an ugly and twisted thing. As for his mother, she had always cared very little of what happened to him, his father’s beatings making her numb to most things.

Severus sighed, feeling strangely vain as he twisted the black wand between his fingers. It looked as though there would be no escaping his past, he thought sneering, the Dark Lord’s parting gift serving as a reminder of the man he had been. Of the fact that his body hadn’t been truly his since the day he’d taken that mark.

He scowled: what a bothersome nuisance… As though being hideous wasn’t enough, he considered, rubbing his mangled throat, an ugly snarl plastered on his face. It did not help that, the sight of it, his thoughts had been immediately drawn to another boy who had survived the Dark Lord’s fury with a cursed scar. And at what cost? Lily’s life had been a high price to pay.

The Boy Who Lived, he mused, the bile quicky rising to his throat as it often did at the mere thought of him. He supposed that after everything he had done, he too might deserve some form of recognition. And what would they call him? The Spy Who Lived? Severus sneered, the appellative just as ridiculous, for he was sure they would have locked him in Azkaban without a second thought had he survived.

Be that as it may, it was beyond him how anyone could find any fascination with such disfigurements. Famous Harry Potter certainly never lost a chance to make a show out of it, showing it to the whole school whenever someone asked him to. Strutting around the castle like his father before him...

The boy had relished in the attention. Severus could not honestly bring himself to understand how Lily could have given birth to such cretin. Or maybe he could. He supposed Potter’s genes had just been too obnoxiously disruptive to justify any hope for a different outcome.

He shuddered, thinking of how such boy had come to be. He did not want to linger on the fact that he only had a few years before Harry Potter would once again come into existence, making his life miserable.

He exhaled deeply, his drenched hair plastered to his skull and giving him impression to be staring at some sort of revolting marine creature.

Merlin, he was ugly. There was no denying it; and he had the misfortune of knowing that age would only worsen that disgraceful picture.

He stared mockingly at his reflection. A second chance at life. A second chance given to him for his unique capacity to love. Albus must’ve been insane to believe that Lily would see him as anything but her ugly friend, that this time she would choose him…

He stared at the scrawny boy in front of him, his young face and gangly body making him look downright pathetic. What could he even offer to her?

He had thought that once he’d have power no one would care for his appearance, but he was no longer as oblivious as to think looks didn’t matter. And he was no longer just an ugly boy now. He was an ex-Death Eater and a murderer, a broken shell of a man who had done unforgivable things; not to mention how much older than her he was.

A cold shiver ran down the length of his spine. Yes, what would she think of that? And what would she think of who he was? He let out a choked laugh, his throat hurting. Yes, Lily would be thrilled to know what sort of man he had become, he thought, half sneering, his crimes likely to make her sick to her stomach.

He rolled up his left sleeve, staring at his forearm, its skin ghastly white, but yet to be tarnished by the wretched mark. He sighed, the ghostly feeling of it seemingly prickling under his skin. He covered his arm in shame.

And to think that Lily had had such good hopes for him. She had told him how brilliant he was. He could remember sitting with her next to that dirty river, a red headed girl telling him that it did not matter what Petunia and the rest of the world thought, he would make something out of himself. She had kept telling him that until Lupin had almost killed him and Severus’ hateful resentment had turned him into everything she despised. And after that, it had become all too clear what he really wanted to do with his life.

How could he have ever believed that being a Death Eater would impress her? He closed his eyes shut. What a worthless idiot, he thought, flinching when his eyes met his reflection once again.

He hadn’t noticed before, but it was strangely disturbing to see his eyes on the face of a teenager. Those dark, haunted eyes didn’t belong to a sixteen-year-old boy. They were the eyes of a man who had lived through hell, a man followed by the stench of death. And as to Lily, what was he to do?

Would she notice? He could not tell her the truth. Certainly, he could not throw himself at her feet and beg for her forgiveness. And even if he did, what would she think of him? The mere knowledge of who he truly was would put a target on her back. A murderer and a Death Eater. She certainly would not want Severus to protect her, that much was certain.

Was he to play the teenager? He grimaced. He did not want to lie to Lily, but it was undeniable that the truth would place her into mortal danger. Similarly to her blasted son, Severus knew she had no talent for Occlumency. He had spent more than half his life lying, why should this be any different? Severus took a deep breath. He’d do anything in his power to make sure she lived a long and happy life.

And then… if he survived the task, he would… tell her who he truly was. She would not want him in her life after that, to be sure, but Severus had long since come to terms with that; he could only hope she would, if not forgive him, at least understand…

With his hands trembling slightly, Severus glared one last time at the mirror and headed towards the Great Hall, his heart beating loudly in anticipation.

Chapter Text

Lily Evans yawned, rubbing her eyes, her eyelids heavy from the lack of sleep. And to say that she had actually thought that being a Prefect would be nice. It turned out Sev had been right, being a Prefect wasn’t nice or fun; it was a nightmare.

She rested her head on her palm, feeling the clatter of silverware growing weak and muffled, the Great Hall slowly fading into nothingness. Her jaw slackened; her mind lulled into a coaxing sense of peace as indistinctive flashes of blurry images began to flicker in front of her closed eyelids.

But that peaceful sensation did not last, because within a minute or two, her pallid hand succumbed to the dead weight of her head and she was jerked awake.

‘Lily?’

Her eyes snapped open and her heart leapt when she realised with shame that she had almost landed head first in her morning porridge. She blinked a few times, her posture stiff as, in her vain attempt to fight the sleepiness, she kept her eyes comically wide. She blinked once more until Mary’s disgruntled face slowly came into focus.

The brunette was staring at her, looking both angry and displeased. Lily shifted uncomfortably on her seat, her body tensing as she prepared herself to be on the receiving end of her friend’s fury. God… how long had she dozed off?

‘I was talking to you, the least you can do is listen!’ Mary said, clearly annoyed by her involuntary lack of attention.

She sucked in a deep breath, looking down at her cinnamon porridge, her forehead crinkling as she tried to recall the tiniest shred of what, judging by Mary’s face, had been a very long and serious conversation. Or, Lily thought grimacing, a very long monologue, considering she could not remember a word of it.

She wetted her lips, a guilty expression forming on her face as she glanced helplessly at her friend. For a moment she considered lying, but then again, in order to do that, she should’ve had at least a general idea of what the conversation had been about. She sighed, thinking hard, until Mary’s exasperated huff brought her back to reality.

‘I’m sorry…’ she murmured sheepishly, giving her a weak, apologetic smile. Mary didn’t move, but nodded in acceptance, her blue eyes softening.

Alas, it became quite clear that she was yet to be forgiven when her friend gave her one last pointed look before resuming her breakfast. Lily smile revolved in a grimace.

‘I’m sorry, Mary, I’m-’

‘Classes start in one hour. You know that, right? Get some coffee. I doubt Professor McGonagall will be as understanding as I am if you doze off during her class’, she scoffed, the bitter tone suddenly reminding her of Petunia.

She grimaced even more at that; trying not to think that she hadn’t answered any of her letters. But Mary was right of course; classes were going to be a problem. She might have been in Professor McGonagall’s good graces, but her Head of House would not tolerate Lily’s drooping eyes in her class.

Prefect duties or not, she would never be as lenient as Professor Slughorn had been, patting her on the back and chuckling heartedly when he had caught nearly falling asleep during his explanation on of how to brew an Invigoration Draught. She blushed at the memory, and she must’ve had quite the funny expression because Mary laughed.

‘You don’t remember a word of it, do you?’ she asked after a while, a note of resentment still discernible in her now much lighter tone.

Lily let out a deep breath. She was still upset, wasn’t she? Well of course she was and the only explanation was that Mary had been talking about something important, a serious problem she now thought Lily hadn’t cared enough to listen to. She averted her eyes, guiltily, because it wasn’t really like that.

‘I’m really sorry, Mary, you know I didn’t sleep a wink last night, but I did listen, I swear, we… we were talking about…’, Lily’s face flushed at the obvious lie, quickly averting her eyes, for really, she couldn’t remember more than a few words.

‘We… we were talking about Quidditch, weren’t we?’ she said tentatively, looking hopefully at the brunette.

It must have been the right answer, only that… it wasn’t, because as soon as those words had left her lips, Mary’s eyes narrowed. Lily backtracked at once, her hands held up in front of her as she prepared herself for the explosion.

‘Quidditch?! Why on earth would I be talking about Quidditch?! I was talking about Sirius! S-i-r-i-u-s, Lily. We’re in the same House, you remember him, right? Of all the things… I just told you it was thanks to him that Gryffindor won the match, but that was five minutes ago!’ she said, lifting her chin disdainfully and turning her head the other way.

‘Oh…’ said Lily, uneasily. Well, suddenly it was no mystery to her why she had dozed off, she thought guiltily.

She had almost forgotten that like most girls in their year, Mary could hardly call herself immune to Sirius Black’s roguish smile. A small line appeared between her brows as she looked at her friend, suddenly uncomfortable.

No matter how much she found both Black and Potter’s behaviour abhorrent, she would’ve been a liar had she refused to admit they were both quite handsome. Even Potter, with his messy hair and warm smile, could be charming when he wasn’t being an arrogant toerag and a horrible bully and-

Lily stopped dead, drawing a sharp breath, startled by the direction of her own thoughts, a mortified look falling upon her face. She shouldn’t be thinking about that, she really shouldn’t. Being good-looking didn’t excuse Potter’s horrible behaviour nor what he and Black did to Sev, whether it was after being “provoked” or not.

Still, she thought, glancing quickly at Mary, her cheeks slightly pink, between the two, Potter would have been a much better choice. Outlandish as it might sound, Potter seemed to have at least a shred of respect for human feelings, she considered, remembering as he had kindly dismissed his many admirers on Valentine’s Day trying not to hurt their feelings. Black… well, Black was just a wanker.

And Mary knew that. To this day, Black was yet to show any interest in long-term relationships. It was always the same story, over and over again. It all started with a few mad weeks of indecorous displays of affection and snogging, all punctually followed by furious rants and bickering. Usually, it wasn’t more than four weeks before Black got bored and moved on to the next girlfriend, dismissing his previous one with a shrug and a bark of a laugh.

It seemed to Lily that apart from being oblivious to the girls’ feelings, he just couldn’t help himself. He was just that kind of boy, handsome and insensitive. Lily wasn’t even sure that he understood that not everyone wanted to start a relationship just to have “fun”.

She wetted her lips, torn between protecting her friend and not hurting her feelings.

‘But… Are you sure, Mary? Black’s a bit…’ she started, unsure, knowing that while she ought to say something and make her friend see reason, she was venturing in dangerous waters.

‘Oh, I know, he’s handsome, isn’t he? Have you seen him, Lily? His hair, his smile… He is quite the heartbreaker; don’t you think? He told me how nice I looked just the other day. And I don’t know, but… but I think I love him’ she said dreamily.

Lily blinked, trying to hide a grimace. It was worse than she had expected. She looked at Mary, worried.

‘I know, Mary… but you know how he is. Please, think about it, I… you are my friend, I don’t want to see you hurt’ she said, gently squeezing her hand. Mary blinked, then she wrenched her hand from hers, eying her with a glare.

Lily winced.

‘I thought you would understand…’ she said, her voice cold and unforgiving as she ground her jaw, gritting her teeth.

Lily chewed on her bottom lip, looking both troubled and apprehensive. She knew that kind of look and she knew that any channel of discussion was now being closed. Mary was shutting her out, she wouldn’t listen to another word against her dream boy. She sucked in a deep breath, despite everything, stubbornly refusing to give up.

‘I do, Mary, but-’

‘But what? Honestly, the nerve of you! You think Sirius would hurt me? Him? You’re such a hypocrite!’ she spat, crossing her arms, her lips twisting in a reproachful grimace. Lily blinked again, confused.

A hypocrite? She frowned. What on Earth was she on about?

‘Oh, please, don’t play dumb with me, you know perfectly well what I’m talking about! How dare you… telling me that Sirius is dangerous while you do nothing but hang out with that… with that slimy Slytherin, that Snivellus!’ she said with a shudder, her whole face contorting as though she had just swallowed something foul.

Lily’s eyes narrowed, a spark of annoyance flashing in her bright eyes.

‘His name is Severus and what has he got to do with anything? He’s not my boyfriend, Mary, he’s my best friend’ she replied fiercely, her eyes now reduced to slits.

She had had enough of Mary and Marlene’s nasty words about Severus. It was starting to get ridiculous. He had a sharp tongue and a short temper, that was true, but he wasn’t dangerous. She thought of the twitch way he moved, his hair hiding his face from view, his shoulders only relaxing slightly when Lily managed to steal one of his rare smiles. No, she wouldn’t have described Severus as dangerous, especially when compared to the other Slytherins.

‘Best friends? He fancies you, that creep!’ Mary shrieked, looking slightly hysterical and seemingly unable to stop herself. Nonetheless, as soon as those words escaped her lips, she froze, covering her mouth with both hands, looking tense and worried.

Lily’s eyes widened, both eyebrows raising up her forehead; then she snorted, doubts and worries temporarily leaving her eyes.

She averted her gaze, glancing at the Slytherin table, not finding him; but that was ridiculous of course. Sev didn’t fancy her, if he did, he wouldn’t turn a deaf ear to everything she had to say about Dark Magic and dangerous friends. As it was, he just couldn’t bring himself to listen, no matter how worried she was, because contrary to Severus, Mulciber was dangerous.

‘You see? You don’t even try to deny it!’ Mary jeered, triumphantly. Lily frowned, her gaze drifting from the empty seat where Severus usually sat to the brunette. Regardless of what everyone said, Sev was not evil and… wasn’t he going to have breakfast? Merlin knew, he had the dangerous habit to skip too many of his meals.

She glared at her friend, a part of her hating how pleased she looked with herself.

That’s right, let’s all gang up against Severus again and avoid talking about Sirius.

‘Severus doesn’t fancy me, Mary. I told you, he’s my best friend’ she said once more, emphasising those last words; her tone suggesting that if Mary knew what was good for her, she’d drop the subject.

Mary let out a mirthless laugh; Lily’s eyes narrowed.

‘Best friend? You tell him that’ she scoffed.

‘Meaning what?’ she inquired, defensively, her voice cold and waspish.

Mary let out another laugh, then her eyes briefly darted to the Slytherin table and, as though she feared they might overhear them, she leaned forward. Lily frowned, for Mary’s expression looked now grave and serious. In fact, she looked worried.

‘Open your eyes, Lily, he’s obsessed with you. Always staring at you when he thinks you’re not looking. It’s creepy, that’s what it is. I wouldn’t be surprised if he kept a shrine of you in his bedroom and a lock of your hair under his pillow’

Where another person would’ve now been now perturbed by such accusations, it was fair to say that Mary’s words had little to no effect on Lily. After the initial surprise, she pressed her lips together, trying not to smile, the mental picture of her best friend while he attempted to cut a lock of her hair from behind her back nothing short of hilarious.

She could see him biting his tongue in concentration while she gazed at the shimmering waters of the Great Lake, completely oblivious to his stealthy, slithering movements. It was too much and before she knew it, Lily was laughing so hard that Mary actually jumped.

‘Oh, God… Cheers, Mary… I… I really needed a good laugh’

Mary’s face turned scarlet.

‘There’s nothing funny about it! I don’t even know how you can laugh about something like that! I’m worried about you, Lily. You seem completely oblivious when it comes to him and he’s dangerous, I know he is. You remember what his friends did to me, right? I saw him, Lily, he was there and he was laughing. I mean what sort of person laughs when they see someone screaming in the corridors with their head turned backwards?’ she cried, her eyes welling up with tears.

Lily averted her eyes, the smile dying from her lips as her heart gave a hollow thud.

‘And then Mulciber, that Mulciber tried to- to-’ she stopped, letting out a dry sob. And then, a day later, Mulciber had tried to Imperius her, Lily finished, shuddering.

Disturbed, she took her friend’s hand, but averted her eyes, unable to meet her gaze; because Mary was right, even if she hadn’t seen him laughing, later on Severus had regarded the corridor prank as nothing more than a “laugh”.

‘Why do you even talk to him, Lily? He’s one of them, you know what he will become. Please, just listen to me, I don’t want you to end up like me. You know what they call us. They… They don’t even see us like people and-’ her voice broke again before she could finish and Lily signed, squeezing her hand, her insides squirming with discomfort.

‘Don’t worry about me, Mary. Sev’s not evil. He’s just… he’ll come around, you’ll see’ she said, trying to convince both herself and Mary of the fact. The girl looked up at her and Lily tried to smile; the smile never reached her eyes, which remained clouded by worries.

Would he really become one of them? She didn’t want to believe it, she refused to believe it, but…

She shuddered, shaking her head and trying not to think about it. Sev was good, he wasn’t like Mulciber, he wasn’t one of them, but… but she had heard him listen eagerly to speeches of glory and power and how much “The Dark Lord” rewarded those who were faithful to him.

Lily cringed, her eyes prickling as she told herself once more, that maybe he had just been pretending because he was afraid of them.

She pursed her lips, feeling a heavy weight in her stomach. Who was she kidding? She had seen how his face had contorted in an ugly mask of eagerness and anticipation when Mulciber had mentioned that despite “his disgusting blood”, there might be a place for him in the Dark Lord’s ranks, for the Dark Lord always rewarded those faithful to him.

Lily dropped her spoon, staring at her cold porridge and feeling suddenly nauseous. She glanced again at the Slytherin table. A cold drop of sweat running down her temple, dreading to find that same eagerness on his face; but Severus wasn’t there. She frowned, looking behind her back as she heard the Great Hall’s doors open once more. Her eyes darted between the few faces of the latecomers until she finally found his.

He was standing behind a large group of students, scowling angrily, his lips twitching in annoyance as he glowered at them all, cringing whenever someone involuntary touched him. After a few seconds in which he looked so crossed that Lily thought he might actually start to curse his way through them, the crowd slowly dispersed. Severus did not move, his eyes glistening with annoyance as he slowly headed towards the Slytherin table.

Lily frowned, staring at his closed fists. When a group of Hufflepuff students nearby let out a cheerful laugh, she saw him stop dead in his track. He closed his eyes for a moment, looking angry.

Lily stared.

What was that about? Did he think they might have been laughing about him? Blimey, she knew he was paranoid, but that… they hadn’t even been looking at him! She eyed him worryingly, but just when she had lost hope she might catch his eye, he looked at her. Lily couldn’t see him clearly, but for a second it looked as though he might be sick.

She smiled weakly at him and Severus paled even more. She was just about to get up and check on him when Avery grabbed his arm, pulling him down on his seat. Lily continued to stare as she watched him free himself from the tall boy’s grip, his mouth contorting in a sneer.

What the…

‘Lily?’ called a voice nearby.

Lily’s forehead creased. It looked as though they were arguing… or more like Avery was, because after the initial anger, Severus looked uncannily calm. A deep line formed between her brows. Well, that must have been a first; Avery or not, Severus had never been good at controlling his anger. He hated being manhandled, his thin frame denying him the chance to physically overpower most of his peers.

‘Lily?’

‘…Yes?’ she answered reluctantly, her eyes never leaving that peculiar scene.

‘Marlene said I could ask you to… Could you give it a look? It’s for Flitwick, but I’m not sure about question four’

Lily forced herself to focus on a fourth-year girl, who was smiling expectantly at her. She looked quickly at Severus again, then she sighed. She rested her eyes on the girl and nodded slightly; she would meet him later anyway.

‘Touch me again Avery, and you will lose that arm’ Severus said coldly, his dark eyes fixing menacingly on the taller boy sited next to him.

Mulciber blinked, his ogrish face slowly turning to look at Avery, whose hand was still hovering in mid-air. Severus’ lips pursed, the shadow feeling of the boy’s touch prickling under his skin. His eyes briefly darted to the Gryffindor table, his stomach lurching as he did so; but she was no longer looking.

He turned his gaze to those two boys, a rush of loathing cursing through him. He ignored the part of him that was almost startled to see how young they looked. They might not have killed anyone yet, nor done unforgivable deeds; but as it was, Severus could barely stand their presence.

He pursed his lips, the mere fact he would be once again forced to endure their presence irking him.

The smaller details of his sixteen-year-old self’s life might have escaped him, but Severus’ memory had always been impeccable when it had come to remember past wrongs. Potter, Black, Mulciber, Avery… how could he forget? They had treated him no better than a dirty doormat, calling him Snivellus and laughing at his back whenever they thought he hadn’t been looking…

And the worse thing was that he had allowed it. He had gritted his teeth and turned a deaf ear. He had been well aware that they had been his only way to get to the Dark Lord when Lucius Malfoy had graduated from school. And Severus had endured, telling himself that he would rise above them all.

He stared at their boyish faces, sneering when he realised Mulciber was looking at him as though he might have gone insane.

Of course… Severus thought. Had he truly been sixteen his answer would’ve been nothing short of suicidal. He might have been young and prone on losing his temper at that age, but he’d hadn’t been stupid enough to think that he could have answered in such a way without consequences. Antagonising Mulciber meant challenging the other Purebloods; an unwise move for a poor and unpopular half-blood who aimed to become a Death Eater.

‘Have you lost it, Snape?’ Mulciber said, completely oblivious to the fact that as it was now, Severus could not have cared less about politics.

Severus ignored him. He had no use for them now, no reason to fear the possible outcome of his “insubordination”. He had nothing to fear from two incompetent idiots who had spent their whole lives living under the shadows of their much more talented fathers. Shamefully losing their freedom when Mulciber and the others had been woefully defeated by famous Harry Potter and his teenage gang.

How embarrassing...

Indeed, they had fallen so low in the ranks that they had been almost afraid to meet Severus’ gaze. He nearly smiled.

‘How dare you, you filthy half-blood?! Why are you even smiling? Do I have to remind you, Snape, that I’m your only hope to get to the Dark Lord?’ Mulciber hissed through gritted teeth, ‘I’ve met him and he-’

Severus’ eyes bored into his; something about his gaze must’ve disturbed Mulciber, because the boy suddenly got to his feet.

Severus sneered. Teenagers… Always prone on losing their tempers. Mulciber’s complete lack of control was almost embarrassing. How could he not have smiled? His knowledge of the future and status before he had died couldn’t help but making the whole situation nothing short of amusing.

‘You met him, Mulciber?’ he said, his black eyes glistening with amusement; his expression suggesting exactly how little he thought of the whole ordeal.

Mulciber looked as though someone had just slapped him.

This was a welcome distraction, Severus considered. It got his mind off Lily, the chance that she would seek him out nothing short of terrifying. He had not expected to see her so soon, her eyes green and bright when their gaze had met and she’d offered him a timid smile. That silent interaction had left him with a sudden urge to throw up. Severus shivered, his blood running cold once more, the guilt washing the colour off his sallow face.

His eyes wandered to the Gryffindor table, his heart clenching in his chest at the sight of her long red hair. He gulped, the feeling of his own saliva sliding down his throat increasing his sense of nausea. He shouldn’t even be looking at her, the last time they had spoken she had told him she didn’t want to have anything to do with him and Severus had respected her wishes.

As of now, for the life of him, he did not know what to do if she approached him. And he knew she would seek him out. To her eyes he looked no different than the sixteen-year-old boy he had been; a boy that, at this point in time, she might still regard as her friend. Why wouldn’t she approach him? And yet, he knew she wouldn’t want him ten feet from her if she knew the truth.

Severus wrenched his gaze from her figure, his eyes temporary unfocused as he let those feeling fade into the back of his mind, the world around him growing colder and clearer. A second later his eyes were back on Mulciber, welcoming with open arms the distraction offered by a confrontation that couldn’t see him as anything but the winner. A small smirk stretched on his lips, his face showing no sign of turmoil.

‘And tell me, Mulciber… what use do you think the Dark Lord might have for two pathetic sixteen-year-old boys such as Avery and yourself? You are a fool if you think even for a second that you your family name will protect you from his fury. Surely you know he does not deal easy with failure’

Mulciber bared his teeth in a snarl, a vein throbbing on his temple. His thick fingers twitched as though he was fighting the urge to leap from his seat and strangle him. Severus’ eyes darted to his side, quickly casting a Muffliato when he noticed some Ravenclaw students were staring.

‘What?! How dare you? Apologise, Snape, apologise right now or you’ll regret it! I know magic that you can only dream of! You have no idea what my father has taught me!’

Severus’ eyes glistened malevolently, his dark pupils shining with some form of twisted enjoyment. The boy faltered.

‘Indeed? I’d be surprised if you managed to pass half your classes without your classmates whispering in your ear, let alone cast one of those spells’ he jeered, looking up at the bulky boy, a bored expression on his face. Mulciber’s face flushed.

‘… What… what did you just say? You son of a whore, you can’t talk to me like that! Apologise right now!’ the boy bellowed.

Half the Slytherins had now turned in their direction, the Muffliato Charm only meant to stop Mulciber’s voice from reaching the nearby tables.

‘Mulciber, that’s enough, Dumbledore’s looking’ said Rosier, grabbing the boy’s arm. Mulciber gritted his teeth, trembling with rage like a bull ready to charge.

Severus said nothing but his eyes fixed on Rosier’s cold ones. Rosier narrowed his eyes, his cold and calculating gaze never leaving Severus.

Had he been sixteen he would’ve found himself in a dangerous predicament indeed. Rosier was dangerous, he had been barely out of Hogwarts when Mad-eye Moody had been forced to kill him, barely surviving to tell the tale and with less limbs. The boy in front of him was yet to become that man. Indeed, Rosier was unlikely to be a danger for a man that was now twice his age and had learned more than a few tricks from his Masters.

Severus’ eyes wandered up to the Slytherin table. Mulciber, Avery, Rosier, Wilkes, Yaxley, Lestrange and Regulus Black. As well as Bartemius Crouch Jr and many others. He knew what they would all become.

He couldn’t bring himself to care. The thought that they could turn against him if rightfully provoked, failed to concern him. He could handle Mulciber. He hadn’t survived a year of attempted murders out of a combination of sheer luck and good reflexes. He had taken precautions, his paranoia saving his life more than once. He briefly wondered whether he would actually pass to history as Hogwarts' most hated Headmaster.

As of now he had no intention on wasting his time speaking with any members of his House. Regardless of his unwillingness to draw unnecessary attention to himself, Severus was no longer their personal doormat. That simple change would create tension, but Rosier and Lestrange had little patience for Mulciber’s temper. They would not physically threaten him just because Mulciber had failed to keep him in place.

They had no fondness for him, of course, but Mulciber was no leader. His father might have been powerful, but Rosier and Lestrange knew the son had only inherited his father's cruelty and none of his skills. For someone who came from an equally powerful family, his lack of brains made him an easy target to take out and a poor leader to follow.

Severus’ gaze shifted on Bartemius Crouch, the boy's scrawny frame and freckled on his face hiding his true nature. Crouch Jr. might have been desperate to please, but he was not one to relish in pointless displays of power and violence. Yaxley might not have been much brighter than Mulciber, but the much older and taller Slytherin would never subside to the younger boy’s command.

Regulus Black had never shown much interest in taking part in such disputes, but he was proud. He might have been younger than the others, but with his father’s poor health and his disowned older brother, the family legacy had already been bestowed upon his shoulders.

That only left Mulciber, Avery and possibly Wilkes to deal with.

Severus looked at the three boys, unconcerned. He would merely have to cast protective wards around his bed; something he would have done regardless. Something he'd done since he'd been fourteen and his father had dragged him out of bed for a beating; the experience had positively fucked up his sleep and prompted him to learn everything he could about protective spells and jinxes.

Severus grimaced. No, he would not get caught off guard by a gang of teenagers.

Despite her intention to talk to Severus right after breakfast, when Lily’s eyes turned once more to the Slytherin table, Severus had already vanished into thin air. She blinked, frowning slightly; it wasn’t a rare occasion for them to exchange a few words before classes. Shifting on her feet, Lily adjusted the heavy bag cutting on her shoulder.

She headed grudgingly towards Binns’ class, her thoughts never leaving her Slytherin friend. She rubbed her eyes, her mood not getting any better in the afternoon, when she found herself in the Library, staring at her watch and waiting for Severus to turn up.

She rested her head between her arms, her school books neatly placed on the desk, ready to be used. The minutes slowly went by, with Lily growing significantly worried when the clock hands of her watch almost completed a half turn. She stared worriedly at the entrance for the umpteenth time, the possibility that Sev might have forgotten about their meeting not sitting well within her stomach.

Severus had always taken their meeting very seriously. He loathed tardiness, in fact, Lily still remembered how sullen he had been when she had forgotten they had agreed to visit Hogsmeade together on Saturday instead of Sunday. He had waited for her for two hours and Lily had positively flinched when he had scowled at her shy apology, shouting something along the lines that she obviously had not cared enough to remember.

No, Severus being late wasn’t a good sign. Had something happened?

Mary’s nasty words echoed in her mind. He hadn’t talked to her at breakfast, what if he didn’t want to study with her anymore? What if he had chosen to hang out with Mulciber and Avery instead, deeming them much more interesting and less sanctimonious than his Gryffindor best friend? True, they weren’t as close as they’d used to be, but he had appeared quite eager at her proposal to revise together for the upcoming O.W.L.s and she had thought that maybe...

Lily sighed, looking both sad and resigned. With Severus failing to attend the second meeting, her new brilliant plan to keep him away from the Dark Arts was not looking great. She felt her eyes prickle. Maybe Mary was right, she was an idiot. Slytherins did not study with people like her and if he kept hanging out with Mulciber… how long would it be until he’d call her that word?

He knew he was already using it in their presence. How long would it be since he started taking part in Mulciber’s twisted games? It couldn’t have been longer than a week ago since she had seen him walking down the lake with those boys, she thought with a shiver.

“Diffindo!” Mulciber had yelled, roaring with laughter when the spell had hit the bag of a poor fourth year Hufflepuff, all her notes and books falling in the slimy mud.

“Now your books are where they belong… Mudblood!” he had jeered, laughing mercilessly as Avery had cast an Impedimenta, causing the girl to land next to her books.

Severus had stayed behind, but his lips had curled up in a small smile. Lily had looked horrified at her supposed best friend. She had always known he had a mean streak, but she had felt almost sicken by the fact that, far from helping the girl, he had done nothing.

“You wouldn’t understand” he had snarled at her when she had confronted him. Lily had seen red. She’d yelled that he should have been better that and that she indeed could not understand how he could stand such behaviour, let alone be a part of it when he himself had been at the receiving end of it. She had wondered whether it was true what they said about bullied people turning into bullies. She just couldn’t believe Severus could be like that. He’d been right in saying that she wouldn’t understand. They hadn’t talked for three days.

Lily closed her eyes and pressed her fingers on her closed eyelids, Mary’s words echoing in the back of her mind.

“You do nothing but hang out with that slimy Slytherin… He fancies you, that creep… and he is dangerous, Lily, I know he is… he’s obsessed with you. Always staring at you when he thinks you’re not looking… I trust you remember what his friends did to me… Why do you even talk to him, Lily? He’s one of them, you know what he will become… they don’t even see us like people and-”

Lily bit her lip. Why did she have to think about this now of all things?

No… Mary was wrong… Severus wasn’t evil, she knew he wasn’t, but… but Lily had to talk to him. She couldn’t watch him while he became just like them. She had been avoiding a serious confrontation for months, afraid of what she’d find were she to dug too deep. She knew all too well that problems rarely went away if you refused to acknowledge they were there. It had been stupid for her to hope. With each passing day it was becoming clearer and clearer that she couldn’t keep living with these fears.

She couldn’t pretend anymore, not when it looked as though her best friend’s life aspiration was to join an evil Dark Lord; she shuddered. The thought of reading Severus’ name on the Prophet amongst those responsible for the increasingly common murders and disappearances made her physically ill.

She knew there was good in him, but there was no denying that Severus was changing, his exchanges with Potter and his friends making him increasingly more hateful. He was dabbing into Dark Magic, experimenting with spells and spending more and more time with his Slytherin friends. She knew he could be much better than that, but despite her best effort to ignore it, the intensity of his hatred and anger for the people he loathed was starting to unsettle her.

It was in those moments that she could see a few glimpses of the person Severus could become were he to continue down that path. Lily shuddered. She had always brushed off his dark side, because Severus could be kind and brilliant when he wasn’t being hateful; or he could be kind to Lily at least, she added reluctantly, he had never been too good with showing his good qualities to other people.

He would have scowled had she told him anything of the sort, but Lily knew he had a good heart. And yet, how long would it be before his obsession with power and Dark Magic consumed everything that was good in him? How long would he be before he turned into someone completely unrecognisable?

She got to her feet, her chair scraping loudly on the wooden floor. A sixth year Ravenclaw winced, raising his head from his book and glaring at her.

She tried to force her mouth into an apologetic smile, but failed; Severus would have glared at her too. The boy huffed, going back to his book with a frown on his face, no doubt cursing her and her whole house. Gryffindors had a bad reputation in the Library, a reputation she was currently doing nothing to improve, she thought with a grimace.

She hastily gathered her things, a tight knot forming on her throat as she promised herself she would talk to him that very day.

Chapter Text

Severus looked down at his book, his gaze slowly drifting to the blackboard where his former colleague, Professor Bathsheda Babbling was slowly writing down some elementary runes.

His mouth thinned as he stared at her chubby fingers, the chalk moving so slowly in her hand that he quickly found himself annoyed. Surely there was no need to copy down such straightforward information... and… why… why in Merlin’s name was she completing the assignment she had just assigned for the following week?

To spoon-feed her students? To this very point? Within a month to their O.W.L.s?

Severus crossed his arms, his mouth twisting unpleasantly. No wonder why her students always achieved such mediocre results in her subject. He had the answer at last, he considered. And to think she had told him that he and Minerva ought not to be strict. The blasted woman had downright deafened him with her inane chattering about his teaching methods, constantly reminding him that if he wanted to be a good teacher, he ought to understand the students. That he ought to think like them and remember that he too had once been a “little boy”.

A muscle in Severus’ jaw twitched, for truth be told, he had done his upmost to forget his wonderful time as a “little boy”. He had had very little patience for the woman, secretly relishing when, upon discovering him to be Albus Dumbledore’s cold-hearted murderer, Bathsheda Babbling had ceased her inane babble at once. After all, there was no knowing what a man capable of murdering his own employer might do to an overly talkative employee.

Severus rubbed his forehead, the increasingly loud chatter giving him a headache. He could already feel his mind rotting. His expression visibly hardened when two Ravenclaws girls started to pass notes to each other, whispering some nonsense about their love life and Quidditch. Merlin knew, this was nothing short of torture, no one had dared to behave like this in his class.

Severus wouldn’t have had it. The thought of what he would have said had he been their professor did nothing to improve his mood. Why even famous Harry Potter had dared to create such mayhem, he considered, the sneer on his face immediately leaving his features when a hearty laugh exploded at his back.

His posture stiffened. He could not stand the sound, not when there was a concrete chance they might be once again laughing at his expense. Indeed, Severus’ jaw had already grown quite stiff when he turned around.

He glared at the row of students with all the hate his young face could muster, an unsettling old feeling creeping in the pit of his stomach when no one shied away from his gaze. Indeed, far from looking chastised, a girl giggled. His face flushed. For Merlin’s sake, he thought. He bit his tongue before the word “detention” could escape his lips.

His eyes drifted back to his former colleague. Was she deaf? He could not think of a single person in their right mind who would have ever tolerated such blatant disrespect in their class. Indeed, she would have had more luck teaching a class of baboons.

‘Hey, what are you looking at Snape? Or what was it… Snivellus…? ' chortled one of the few boys who had seemed to notice his glare, the hateful nickname added as a second thought as he pulled the laughing girl closer.

His lips parted in disbelief, before his blood boiled. Potter... that was all Potter’s fault, he had been the one… calling him that in front of the whole school, relishing in his humiliation whenever… Severus narrowed his eyes, but this only seemed to make them laugh harder. What was there to laugh?

The bile quickly rose to his throat when he looked down at his lap, his lanky form and ragged robes quickly providing the unwelcome answer to his question. He suddenly felt ill. Yes, no wonder they found the sight of him laughable. He looked like a stupid child, he thought, the realisation making him once again slightly uncomfortable. He stared at his colleague, her continue disregard for the loud chatter doing nothing to improve his foul mood.

And it was a while before Bathsheda Babbling stopped writing, the small piece of chalk held high in her chubby hand and hovering just a few inches from the blackboard as she slowly turned around, her small, beady eyes narrowing.

‘Silence…’ she drawled in her weak, squeaky voice.

Severus raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

So, she wasn’t deft after all. In the end, her eyes slowly focused on the central row, where the laughs could still be heard. At last, Severus thought, sneeringly. The students at his back stopped laughing at once, but instead of reprimanding them, her small eyes continued to survey the whole row until they slowly fixed on him.

She squinted her eyes, adjusting her round glasses to better look at him. For a moment her eyes widened, then she blinked, screwing her face as she started to glare at him.

Severus blinked, his lips paring in disbelief. He stared at the middle-aged woman, completely baffled, his mind refusing to process the conclusion she must’ve come to.

Him? …Really?

He was just about to point out the absurdity of her reasoning when, still glowering at him, she shook her head, raising her chubby finger and shaking it disapprovingly. Severus blinked; a muscle in his jaw twitched.

‘Mr. Snape… one point from Slytherin, for… for… disturbing my class!’ she declared, looking uncannily pleased with herself, as she gave a stiff nod, looking as though she had just implemented the ultimate form of disciplinary measure.

Severus bristled. He had done nothing to disturb her worthless class. And she had deducted House Points? From… him? Without a shred of proof? No, he must’ve misheard. He had always had little to no esteem for her brain faculties, but that…

‘Excuse me?’ he said, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

But apparently Severus hadn’t misheard, for Bathsheda Babbling puffed in indignation.

‘No, I will not excuse you, Mr. Snape… I heard your name!’ she said, daring him to say more and looking as though she had just presented him with irrefutable evidence.

Severus sneered, unable to contemplate such idiocy.

She had heard… his name? That was the brilliant reasoning behind the deduction of House Points? He was very much aware that he had occasionally been… deaf to lame excuses, but he was no idiot. Contrary to this wretched woman, his behaviour had always been justified and intentional.

His mouth twisted unpleasantly.

He tightened the grip on his quill and knowing full well that it would be quite pointless to argue, he started writing crossing the formula in the outdated pages of his book, praying that that travesty of a lesson would end soon. He tried not to think that he still had another class before he could finally call it a day. He closed his eyes, massaging his scarred throat, the dull ache in his neck making it difficult to concentrate on anything else.

Merlin knew, perhaps it would have been better if he’d stayed dead.

Lily took a deep breath, jogging slightly as she headed towards Ancient Runes, secretly thankful she had memorised Severus’ schedule as well as her own. He couldn’t avoid her forever, not if she managed to catch him during his free period. Professor Babbling was known for keeping her students a bit late. She was a kind woman, if not a bit eccentric, her class a bit dull from time to time.

Truth be told, Lily had only decided to take up the subject to be able to read some old Charms texts, something Professor Flitwick had said would offer her a clear advantage when it came to future careers and the study of old magic. Lilt’s heart gave a hollow thud when she spotted Severus amongst the other students, thin and lanky as he pushed his way away from the other students.

‘Sev! Wait’ Lily called, hurrying her steps and hoping to stop him before he could reach the end of the corridor.

He froze, but did not turn around, nor did he stop. Indeed, he did nothing to acknowledge her presence. She frowned, wondering whether he had just remembered their meeting and did not care enough to waste his time talking to her.

Perhaps, if that were the case, there was no reason to talk, but Severus had never behaved like that. Not once in seven years of friendship he had ever stood her up without a warning or an apology. So why now? Lily was afraid to consider what this recent development could mean for their friendship. Her gaze hardened a little.

‘Severus? Can I… can I talk to you?’ she asked, hoping that it had indeed just been forgetfulness and that she might be reading too much into it. He did not acknowledge her. She frowned, before she touched his shoulder ever so slightly.

He flinched as though burnt.

‘Severus?’ she called again, this time sounding unsure, anxiety creeping down her skin. She circled him, noticing that his eyes where half closed; it was in that moment that their gaze met.

For a moment it looked as though he was about to be sick, his face paling as though he’d seen a ghost.

‘Lily’ he said, his voice sounding strangely hoarse. Her eyes swept to his face, taking in his whole figure.

Severus looked… ill, the lank hair falling on his face unable to fully hide the dark circles under his eyes. His skin had an unhealthy tinge to it. He looked completely worn out. Indeed, knowing how bad he looked it was finally no mystery why he had skipped their meeting, she thought, guiltily, a part of her tempted to shout at him for being out when he looked like that.

‘Sev, are you alright?’ she asked, worriedly, for he looked anything but. He took a deep breath, his unfocused eyes slowly fixing on her, seemingly seeing her for the first time. She stared at him, unnerved.

Something shifted in his eyes, the strange look on his face slowly washed away and replaced by a blank expression that did nothing to ease her worries. He stared at her and Lily shivered; his black eyes were empty and distant now, as though someone had just sucked out his soul.

‘Yes… I… I am merely tired’ he said, his tone strangely formal, before he averted those unfamiliar eyes.

Lily’s heart skipped a beat, his behaviour genuinely starting to scare her. She grimaced, his appearance alone denying every prospect that his words might be truthful.

‘Tired? You don’t look tired, Sev, you look ill’ she argued, gesturing quite pointlessly to his gaunt face, her mouth contorting in a worried grimace.

His eyes narrowed, a hint of annoyance sparkling just beneath the surface of his expressionless eyes; a ripple in what looked like a sea of nothingness, his face still looking as though it had been carved in stone. He sighed.

‘As I said, Lily, I am merely tired, nothing more. Did you wish to talk to me?’ he said and Lily blinked.

His tone was not unkind, but it was a moment before she realised that his voice had been devoid of his usual lilt; she knew he’d been trying to get rid of it, suggesting she try to do the same, but… he... she wasn’t sure she liked it.

She shifted on her feet, unable to shake a growing sense of unease. There was something off and she startled when she met his sharp eyes once more. She gulped, trying to shake off the feeling. He wasn’t just tired, he was sick, that much was clear, but something else must’ve happened to him and despite his unwillingness to talk, Lily promised herself that she would find out.

Her heartbeat sped up, despite all not too willing to spend some time alone with him at the moment, not when he looked so... She blinked, startled. Was she… afraid of him? And afraid of what exactly? Mary had been wrong; Severus would never hurt her; they had known each other since they’d been nine. He wasn’t dangerous; he was exhausted.

She… she’d wanted to talk to him about Avery and Mulciber, hadn’t she? But what if his friends had successfully managed to brainwash him regardless of how bull-headed he could be? Lily gulped. He didn’t look brainwashed and he wasn’t one of them. He was clearly sick, she couldn’t just leave him because of a strange feeling; not when he was clearly failing spectacularly in taking care of himself.

Lily forced herself to smile, telling herself she was just being paranoid; indeed, the events of the other night must’ve clearly shaken her more than she would’ve liked to admit if she couldn’t even regard her best friend without suspicion.

‘Yes, but… never mind. Are you busy?’ she asked, gesturing to the closed door of an old classroom on her left. She took a deep breath, ignoring the part of her asking whether she was stupid. She shifted uncomfortably on her feet. Severus was just tired. She needed to talk to him, to find out what had happened and tell him that whatever it was he could trust her with it.

He eyed her strangely, closing his eyes for a second.

‘Very well’ he said wearily.

Lily tried to smile, but failed, her hands slightly cold and sweaty as she tried to open the door, anxiety bubbling in the pit of her stomach at the thought of talking to him. Perhaps she could leave the discussion for another time; but if something had happened to him, she needed to know. Indeed, the least she could do was to convince him to go to the Hospital Wing; for he really ought to know better than go to class when he looked like that.

She frowned as the door remained closed, her tired mind suggesting that the latch was likely rusty and that she ought to apply more force. She frowned, her fingers fumbling for her wand when she caught a glimpse of Severus’ face. He was staring at her and for the first time he looked slightly amused. She blushed slightly.

‘Allow me’ he said and with a grace she didn’t know him to be capable of, he stepped forward, drawing his wand. With a quick flick of his wrist the lock immediately clicked. She thought he’d roll her eyes, but instead, he held the door open for her and Lily’s lips twitched in a smile.

Severus sighed, leaning against a row of desks, the afternoon light illuminating countless spider webs and particles of dust, their presence suggesting that the classroom must not have been used in years. The desks and wooden benches had been pushed against the walls, which were almost barren of any form of decoration. Only an old mappa mundi stood out; it hung forgotten in a broken frame. By the looks of it must’ve been at least four centuries old.

There was a huge skeleton hanging from the ceiling, a sea serpent judging by its size; Severus found himself unable to repress a shudder, his neck prickling where Nagini’s fangs had ruptured his skin.

He averted his eyes, the glimpse of the young girl standing by his side causing his heart to jolt. He grimaced, occluding his emotion and thoughts until they became nothing more than an intangible fog drifting in the back of his mind. He could consider himself lucky that he had retained his skill, his mind seemingly untouched by the drastic change in his body. And yet, despite his occluded feelings and thoughts, he still found himself clinging to her figure like a drowning man.

He stared into those beautiful green eyes, the sunlight making her irises brighter and of a much warmer green and very soon he found his control slipping once more. He gulped. She had caught him utterly unprepared. Had he not been relying on the mind arts on a daily basis, he doubted he would’ve been able to even look at her; as it was…

Severus took a deep breath, his emotions slowly dissipating into fog once more.

‘Did you wish to talk to me?’ he asked, refraining from clearing his throat, a part of him still uneasy by the difference in his voice. For a split second he wondered whether his annoyance might have seeped through his words, because Lily wetted her lips.

She looked at him with uncertainty and for the first time Severus wondered what she wished to talk to him about. He could not remember ever setting foot in that particular classroom, nor could he remember Lily looking so anxiously at him. Severus felt a pang of guilt break through his defences. Did she already despise him? He took in her whole figure, reminding himself that it was downright idiotic of him to irrationally fear her merciless judgment.

How could she resent him when she didn’t know half the things he had done? This Lily, this so very young Lily had no idea of how deeply he had betrayed her nor did she know what kind of man Severus had grown to be. She only wished to talk to him, but Severus did not know what to say to her, nor did he know whether he ought to talk to her at all, not when he…

‘Sev?’, he flinched, still unaccustomed to the sound of that affectionate nickname. The only thing he could think of when she looked at him with concern was that it felt… wrong.

He took a deep breath, not knowing whether it was weakness or strength that stopped him from doing something as pathetic as falling to his knees and asking for her forgiveness. Severus’ mouth twisted unpleasantly; nevermind that a considerate part of him still wanted her to hate him.

His stomach lurched as he took in every smallest detail of her face. He stared and stared; his eyes unable to leave her figure and all of a sudden it was the thought of her hating him that he could not bear. After all, pointless as it had been, had it not tried to make amends? Had the boy not survived, had he not protected him for her?

He averted his eyes, growing uncomfortable when he realised that she was staring at him too, a worried look clouding her eyes.

‘… Sev, are you… are sure you’re alright? Maybe we should drop by the Hospital Wing, you really look a bit…’ she stopped, her voice a bit unsure, as though she feared he might soon explode.

But Severus merely sighed, shutting away both his discomfort and guilt so that he barely felt anything at all. He closed his eyes for a moment, her words finally registering in his mind, this time with some form of clarity. Of course, now there was also the uncomfortable feeling of being an empty shell, but Severus had long grown familiar with that.

Hadn’t he just told her that he didn’t wish to discuss his health? He narrowed his eyes, confused by her unwillingness to drop the subject. Small talk had never been something he had been happy to indulge, Lily should have known. He’d loathed it even more as an adult at Hogwarts; not that he’d ever had much patience for any form of non-work related conversation in the first place.

He frowned, observing her attentively, the most paranoid part of him doubting someone could genuinely care about his well-being, even if that someone was her. Severus felt an uncomfortable twinge of pain in his chest when he remembered that she had cared once, she had been the only one as a matter of fact.

But what about now? Did she still? To this point in their friendship? It had taken him a very long time to understand how deeply disturbed she had been by his behaviour, by his interest in twisted forms of magic and even more to realise that that last wretched insult had only been the last straw.

He looked at her in the eye, catching himself just before he could do something as immoral as start perusing her mind. His lips twisted in a grimace. He would not cross that line. What was he even doing? Employing Legilimency to see if Lily still cared about him? He was pathetic.

‘Thank you for your concern, Lily, but there is no need. A sleepless night will hardly kill me’ he offered at last, reluctantly, his last words, despite all, causing his mouth to twist in a grimace.

He shook his head slightly, before meeting again her wide green eyes. Lily’s brows were furrowed. She looked strangely worried and confused, as though she was barely refraining herself from saying something. Whatever it was, Severus had to stop himself from skimming the surface of her mind once more. The irony was not lost to him when he thought that he’d rarely felt a tinge of remorse when he had looked her son’s green eyes, skimming the surface of his mind.

Of course, Legilimency wasn’t allowed on students. Dumbledore didn’t approve of it, but it had only proven he had been right about Potter all along. The boy had loathed Severus. He had not trusted him; he had lied to his face more times than he could count and had had relished into making his life a living Hell. He’d been just like his father; his mouth twisted unpleasantly at the thought.

Lily blinked; he could tell she did not entirely believe him.

‘Will you go if you feel any worse?’ she asked, holding his gaze. He could not remember anyone but Dumbledore holding his gaze for that long and he quickly found himself looking away, blushing slightly. Very much like Dumbledore he was suddenly reminded that Lily had had the uncanny ability to see right through him.

He glanced at her, suddenly worried that she might see past his young façade, only to shake those ridiculous thoughts.

‘I am capable of taking care of myself’ he found himself saying with a note of finality, resisting the urge to waspishly tell her to mind her own business, something that he would have undoubtedly done had he been sixteen. Or had he been replying to anyone that wasn’t Lily and had had the gall to comment on his poor appearance.

He still distinctly remembered glaring at Madam Pomfrey for the whole duration of a meal when she had pointed out how thin he was, embarrassing him in front of the rest of the Staff. He had been in his mid-twenties but he had shouted just that. Minerva had dropped her fork, shocked by his rudeness, whereas Dumbledore had awkwardly cleared his throat. Severus felt two blotches of colour rising in his cheeks at the memory.

She started at him, unconvinced, but something in his expression must’ve stopped her from pressing further, because she merely let out a sigh. It was in that moment that he noticed for the first time that she too looked tired, her face pale and taut. Of course, he was old enough to know better than tell her that she hardly looked better than he did; his silent look was enough for her to understand the unspoken question.

‘I haven’t slept well myself’ she finally confessed, rubbing her eyes.

Lily considered her best friend’s face; she had half expected him to lash out at her unwillingness to drop the subject. She’d never had problems matching his temper, nor when it came to being equally stubborn, but there was a coldness and discomfort to him that had not been there before.

She missed how easy he had been to talk to him, how they’d sit and talk for hours about their hopes and dreams. What had happened to them? Somehow, this strange, cold politeness was worse than a burst of temper which, unpleasant as it was offered, more often than not, a clear insight into Severus’ mind. Anger and passion were the two things that brought him to life, his eyes lighting until the fire slowly extinguished itself; it was in those moments than Lily knew him to be fully honest.

As of now, Lily doubted that he would tell her anything about his friends or what he thought about her now. He couldn’t subscribe to that hateful ideology and still be friends with her. It didn’t work like that.

But were they still friends? She’d loved the boy he had been, but lately she had been wondering whether she wasn’t just clinging to the happy memories they shared, or to someone that wasn’t even there anymore. She wanted to go back, but the glimpses of the boy she had met in the park had become rare, replaced by the ominous shadow of the looming war and the choices the both of them would have to make. Lily gave him a sideways glance.

He was staring at her, the silence stretching between them increasingly heavier. She averted her eyes, unwilling to witness their growing discomfort any further.

‘I guess you were right about Prefect duties’ she started lamely, trying to distract them both and unconsciously indulging the part of her determined to keep pretending that everything was fine and that one of them wasn’t actively planning on joining the Death Eaters.

That… that would be a discourse for another time, perhaps when he didn’t look as though someone had just sucked out his soul, she thought, uncomfortably.

Severus’ eyes quickly found hers. He said nothing and Lily swallowed, a bit unnerved by his gaze. Why did she have the impression there was something off about him, something weird and different in his eyes? It was a few seconds before some of the tension finally left his shoulders.

‘Was I?’ he inquired quietly, his stiff posture relaxing ever so slightly. Lily sighed with relief. Good, apparently, he wasn’t completely against the idea of having a conversation after all, and if they got comfortable enough than maybe...

‘I’m still happy to do it, you know how happy mum was when I told her about Prefects, but night duties can be hard, even if it’s just once a month. Of course, I’m glad Professor McGonagall thought I’d qualify for the role, but I had a rough night and this morning I… well… I nearly dozed off in class, even though Marlene said that’s only to be expected when it comes to Bins’ she added with a sheepish smile, looking at him and hoping he would finally crack a smile; he didn’t.

Indeed, Severus was neither laughing nor smiling; on the contrary, he had imperceptibly narrowed his eyes, the corner of his lips twitching downwards as though he did not approve the idea of her sleeping in anyone’s class.

Right… She thought uneasily, for Severus looked as though someone had just shoved a stick up his arse. She looked at his narrowed eyes, feeling strangely chastised.

Apparently sensing her growing discomfort, Severus blinked, the disgruntled appearance disappearing from his face at once, leaving behind just a look of mild discomfort. She frowned… For a moment she had thought he would reprimand her. Despite his strange behaviour, it wasn’t as though he had never refrained from saying what was on his mind, or had never accused Bins of being a poor excuse for a teacher.

She looked at him, unsure, until she spotted something akin to guilt in his eyes.

‘I’ve just… I’m not sure of whether I must’ve just imagined it, but I think I saw something last night’ she continued, relaxing slightly when she saw a spark of interest light those dark eyes.

While Mary had been unable to offer any interesting theories about the mysterious identity of the curfew breaker, she was sure that Severus would definitely offer a much deeper contribution to her vague speculations. Unless he told her she must’ve imagined it and that she ought to sleep more, she thought with a small grimace. She didn’t give too much thought to the fact that he looked a bit wary and glad to have finally caught his interest, she continued her story.

‘I was patrolling the corridors with Loretta, the Hufflepuff Prefect and… she’s a nice girl, she really is, but sometimes she can be a little bit tattletale, even though she means no harm… Anyway, we had a disagreement at around four’ she said, tentatively, glancing quickly at him, as though she irrationally feared he would realise that at four o’clock in the morning she had been discussing the fact that James Potter seemingly fancied her.

‘Nothing important, just girls’ talks’ she added, despite the fact that Severus had shown no signs of interrupting.

He raised an eyebrow, and Lily became immediately aware that she was now ranting. She averted her eyes, blushing slightly.

‘Anyway, nothing important. We were walking on a deserted corridor and we heard something. No one was there, but I had the strange feeling that we were being watched… Loretta wasn’t happy about it, but I thought I saw something, like a shivering outline. I tried to move closer and… I… there was an awful smell of blood. It was gone almost straightaway, but… Loretta said it was a trick of the lights, but what about the smell of blood? I should have done something and now I’m worried… What if someone had been injured? Do you think that someone might’ve died?’ she finished, feeling sick at the mere thought.

She’d been exhausted and Loretta had been firm in in her belief, but perhaps she should have talked to Professor McGonagall. It was only now that the severity of the situation was finally dawning upon her. She knew there were a lot of ways that could be used to disguise oneself, charms, potions, invisibility cloaks… The shivering outline could have been just that. She suddenly felt very stupid, her face going ghastly white as she stared at her best friend.

‘I- I should probably go to Professor McGonagall, I can’t… I should’ve checked and… God, I…’ she croaked, starting to panic. She was just going to rush to the door when their eyes met. It was nothing but when she looked in those black eyes, she found once again some form of lucidity.

‘That’s enough, Lily. There is no need to worry yourself, be assured that no one died last night’ he said calmly, his voice veiled with a hint of bitterness. She gulped, taking a deep breath and perusing his face for the smallest hint of a lie.

‘H- how could you possibly know?’ she stuttered, her heart beating fast.

Severus looked at her and again Lily had the impression that there was something slightly off about him, something in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. It was almost as though he knew something she didn’t.

Lily’s face whitened as she forced herself to dismiss those worries, telling herself that it was just Mary’s words getting to her. She repressed a shiver. She was being utterly ridiculous; how could she even think Severus had anything to do with the horrible occurrence of the previous night?

She wondered what he’d think of her if he knew what she was thinking, she considered, grimacing. Of course, Lily’s face had always been quite expressive. Luckily enough, Severus seemed to not have noticed her internal turmoil, indeed he looked once again... distracted.

‘It falls within the duties of a Head of House to be aware of their students’ whereabouts. If any student had failed to attend more than four classes, their Head of House would have immediately been alerted by the other teachers. If the student is not found within a short time, the whole castle is then informed of their absence. And that would include both staff and students, as well as the ghosts dwelling within the grounds’’

‘And how do you know that?’ she asked with a frown. She knew that Prefect were supposed to notify their Head of House immediately in case their peers reported someone’s absence, but she hadn’t been told what happened after that. How on earth could Severus know that? Had he been researching how many classes he could miss without being reported?

‘It’s standard school procedure, hardly a secret’ he replied, his voice matter-of-factly but strangely enough, not unkind. Lily bit her bottom lip, not sure whether she believed it. It ought to be written somewhere if that was the case. Alice was Head Girl, she would know about these things more than Lily of course, but…

‘Even if that’s true… Maybe I should still tell Profess-’ she stopped when Severus shook his head, his reaction making her feel strangely like a child.

Severus took a deep breath, hating the thought of having caused her that amount of worry. Had she been anyone else, Severus would have likely used the mind arts on her and wiped the memory of that cursed night, but as he looked at her worried expression, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not to Lily.

He had been very lucky indeed that her screeching friend had stopped her from investigating any further. He would’ve been too weak to Obliviate her and she would have delivered him straight to the Hospital Wing and the Headmaster, demanding an explanation. Severus would have been in no state to face her. Indeed, he did not dare think what would have happened in that case. Despite his magical skills, Severus was not confident he could have Obliviated half the school.

He looked at the young Gryffindor girl in front of him. She had been able to see through his Disillusionment Charm. It mattered not that the spell had been far below his usual standards, it would have still fooled far more experienced witches and wizards. It was nothing short of impressive at her age.

He stared longingly at her. She was kind and beautiful, there was no denying it, but she’d always been so much more than that. And yet, everyone had seemed to remember her either as Potter’s wife or the boy’s mother, he thought bitterly. Lily had been extraordinarily gifted; a clever and intuitive witch with a knack for Potions and Charms. One of the best of her generation.

Even as a child Severus had recognised her for what she was; it was a rare thing for a child to have such control on their magic. Severus had had to pay for his magic dearly, a part of him always puzzled by the fact that Lily’s parents had seemed to love her regardless. And even at Hogwarts, when they had learnt how to control their magic, she’d been a far cry from the insufferable dunderheads that Severus had had the misfortune to teach. In thirty-eight years of life, he had never met anyone quite like her.

He looked at her worried expression; he had not meant to upset her, let alone be the cause of the dark circles under her eyes. She did not fully trust him; he could tell as much. He grimaced; well, it wasn’t as though he could tell her that as a former Professor and Headmaster, he had little doubts in regard to school procedure.

‘I am certain. I would not trouble your Head of House with proofless conjectures she would easily have to dismiss given the lack of evidence. I assure you, there is no need for you to worry any further’ he offered.

He could not even remember the last time someone had turned to him for some words of comfort. He had never been good at it. There had been Narcissa of course. She had sought Severus’ advice. Of course, it wasn’t as though he could invite Lily to his office and offer her some wine, he thought with a grimace, suddenly uncomfortable as he was suddenly reminded of how much older he was.

Alas, he must’ve said something wrong, because Lily looked at him, unsure.

‘Sev…’, she started, ‘Why… why are you talking like that?’, she finished, looking mildly uncomfortable.

Indeed, she was now staring at him as though she feared he might have just suffered a concussion.

‘I beg your pardon?’ he asked, frowning; but when her lips twisted in a grimace, it became all too clear to him that he had given the wrong answer.

‘Yes, that, you… why are you being so… oh, never mind’, she said, shaking her head.

Severus frowned. So what? He might have been called harsh and heartless more than once in his life, but he was not in the habit of being unreasonably rude to people he didn’t actively despise or despised him in turn. He also could not remember ever treating Lily with kind of venom he’d had for most people; unless he’d lost his temper and snapped, like he had on that cursed day, he considered with a grimace. Or had it been Lucius the one responsible for smoothing his edges?

Would he have snapped at her insistent question about his health? He would have, Severus realised, as he would have likely thought she might be regarding him as weak and insinuating he could not take care of himself. He had been pathetic, prone on losing his tempter like his father and showing his worst nature and blabbering incoherently when angered. Was she expecting him to act like that?

The thought of having to be deliberately rude to Lily in order to keep up this charade immediately causing him to grimace. He might have been a mean and spiteful man, but he had long since acquired more self-control than that.

She stared at him, opening her mouth, the unexpected ringing of the bell thankfully preventing her from questioning him any further. He watched her as she bit her bottom lip, staring at the door with a weary look.

‘Do you still have classes?’ she asked him and Severus forced himself to nod.

Memorising his timetable had been a wise decision. Indeed, if Lily had seemed worried about by his current behaviour, he could only imagine what sort of questions he would cause were he to check his timetable at the beginning of May. Her eyes suddenly widened.

‘Arithmancy!’ she said, for she had apparently been too tired to remember the class was on the other side of the castle.

Severus merely looked at her, but before he could even reply, she lightly touched his shoulder, guiding him to the exit and rumbling something about how mad Professor Vector would be if they were both late.

Severus’ eyes were still on Lily when the bell rang once again, on her lips the promise that she would see him on the next day. For a moment he stayed still, an uncomfortable weight settling in his stomach as he watched her walking away. He ran a hand through his hair, grimacing as he recalled her gentle touch on his shoulder. Somehow, it was all real.

He closed down his eyes, his grimace become more pronounced as he recalled their conversation. He could have been kinder to her, he thought, rubbing his closed eyelids. He knew she had picked up on his strange and cold demeanour. He opened his eyes once more and realised that his hands were now shaking, his control slipping now that she was no longer there.

It all felt as though he were reliving some strange and forgotten dream; his youthful appearance, the Slytherin Dormitory, the fifth-year classes… It was as though he was nothing more than a ghost who had taken possession of someone else’s life, the thought itself strangely disturbing. Because he did remember dying, less than twenty-four hours before he’d choked in a pool of his own blood. He shuddered, his fingers feeling the outlines of the angry scars left by those venomous fangs.

The charm he had placed on his neck was quite powerful, that was true, but it would not fool the touch. He scowled, rolling up his left sleeve, his skin white and untouched. He stared at his arm for what felt like hours, the sight of it almost surreal. It finally dawned upon him that he was free and he almost laughed. He rubbed the unmarked skin, the sight almost mocking him.

A second chance to live, Dumbledore had said.

Was he just supposed to forget all he had done? His expression darkened; as though he could ever forget and do what then? It had taken Lily’s death to awaken him, without the knowledge of what had been, Severus feared the sort of man he could once again become. He looked down at his arm, he had been revulsed by the sight of it after her death. It had become a stain upon his soul that had been impossible to wash away, but it had also served as a reminder; indeed he’d almost welcomed the pain. He had deserved it.

“There are some things we cannot trust ourselves with, Severus” Dumbledore had said, when eight years before he had stormed in the Headmaster’s Office, demanding an explanation for Dumbledore’s absolute refusal in allowing him to fill up the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.

Those cryptic answers had been punctually followed by him excusing himself from the Headmaster’s Office with pursed lips, the corner of his mouth twisting in a sneer at the thought that no matter how many years had passed, Dumbledore would rather assign the post to a Dark Creature than allow Severus to teach.

Dumbledore had just stared at him, a sad look clouding his blue eyes, but had never said anything more. Severus had always thought that Dumbledore had not trusted him, there was irony in the fact that he had been mistaken. The truth was a curious thing indeed; for the Headmaster had not trusted Severus to resist temptation any more than he had trusted in himself.

“I too have been a fool in my youth… blinded by arrogance and power. You must have heard…”

He sighed, staring at the dark clouded sky as he stepped outside. It had been sunny that morning. A gentle rush of wind messed up his hair and he closed his eyes, taking in the fresh air. He hadn’t even realised that he had walked out of the castle. He looked at the Great Lake, leaning against the gnarled bark of an old oak tree, a place he had often found himself visiting when he had needed to think.

The lake turned into a shapeless mass of grey as the last rays of sunlight disappeared beneath the tall mountains, the temperature slowly dropping until the cold settled in his bones, causing him to shiver. He stared at the at the small islet where the White Tomb had stood, his mind drifting inevitably back on Dumbledore.

Severus closed his eyes. He could not bring himself to go to Dumbledore that very day, not after what had happened on the previous night. He needed some time to reorganise his thoughts and think. Very much like Lily, Severus wasn’t sure he would be able to look at Dumbledore in the eyes.

“Severus, please”

Severus opened his eyes, his chest heaving; sometimes he loathed Dumbledore. His hands were shaking as he looked away from the White Tomb. A second chance for defeating the Dark Lord… and he was left once again grasping at straws.

Horcruxes...

He was ready to bet all he had that the blasted boy had been privy to the that particularly sensitive piece of information. Merlin knew what he and Dumbledore had been doing in those secret meetings, sharing information for a whole year; never mind that the boy hadn’t had a shred of talent for Occlumency, while he, Severus…

Severus took in an angry breath, pursing his lips in displeasure. Potter was dead, or if Dumbledore had been right, he’d lived long enough to lose his marbles and name his child after him, of all people. The thought that after seeing his memories the boy might have come to forgive him made him feel strangely hollow. As though the boy was now showing he was being the bigger man; as thought Severus was pathetic for being stuck in the past.

It did not matter now, he told himself, a part of him secretly glad he wouldn’t have to see the boy again; he could not have borne it, not after having shown him those memories. His face was pale and drawn as he stared at the distant lights coming from the castle, its walls still untouched by the horrible battle he had left behind. He wondered whether Lily had noticed his absence at dinner and cursed himself for having agreed to meet her on the next day.

He was pathetic, he found himself thinking. He should have refused, nevermind the fact that she had given him a warm smile after he had agreed, something shifting inside of him when she’d told him she was looking forward to it.

He should have refused; he could hardly imagine her being pleased were she to find out with whom exactly she was planning to spend her afternoon with. He knew she would not want him anywhere near her, but even that knowledge had not been enough to refuse her offer. He had missed her… more than he had even realised.

He grimaced. Of course, there was also the fact that Severus was currently incapable of having a conversation with her without the veil of Occlumency. He hoped the situation would improve, but she was bound to notice the wrongness of his behaviour or the hollowness of his eyes. Perhaps, the worst thing was that he could not bring himself to do anything about it. He was tired, tired of lying. He had spent the last year playing a murderous traitor and torturer of children and he was now somehow reluctant to play the boy who had first betrayed her.

He sighed, his mouth slowly twisting in a sneer. And so, what if he refused to put up a charade? He could not bring himself to act like the boy he had been, of showing her once again the worst side of him. He could not recall exactly how he’d talk and behaved at this age, but did it matter?

Unless he deliberately told her, she would never know the truth. He was a dead man from the future, brought back by the deceased spirit of Albus Dumbledore in the body of his younger self. How could she even contemplate such madness, when he himself struggled to believe it?

Feeling as tired as he had not felt in years, Severus looked at the lake one last time, then he turned around, scowling at the idea of small beds and shared dormitories.

‘Snape. Snape! Are you deaf? I’m talking to you!’ Mulciber yelled at his back.

For God’s sake, what now? Severus thought, the corner of his lips twisting in an ugly sneer.

Nonetheless, he did not turn around to face the source of disturbance; unwilling to encourage such behaviour, he kept walking until he finally reached the stairs leading to the fifth-year dormitory. Merlin knew he needed some rest, he thought with a grimace, the scar tissue covering the left side of his throat pulsing angrily as he brushed his greasing hair away from his face.

He could hear the heavy sounds of footsteps at his back, annoyance rippling through his skin as he turned around, staring with complete disinterest at the much bulkier boy as he advanced towards him.

Mulciber stopped a mere two feet from him, his heavy breath and reddened face making him look like a bull ready to charge. The boy’s hands were trembling, his wand held high as though he had just been about to curse him. Severus raised an eyebrow, thoroughly unimpressed and yet feeling the strange need to straighten his back.

Despite his confidence in his superior magical ability, Mulciber positively towered over him, the unspoken physical threat causing a muscle in his jaw to twitch. He had never been a large man by any means, but he had been tall; tall enough to be rarely towered by students. Indeed, his current body must have been at least four or five inches shorter than his had been, the realisation alone causing him to sneer.

All the same, Mulciber would be on the floor before he could even touch him, Severus thought sneeringly.

‘I’m talking to you, Snivellus!’

Severus’ lips pressed in a hard line, his gaze shifting on the mousy boy hiding behind Mulciber’s large frame.

‘Indeed you are, Mulciber. What can I do for you?’ he said, his conversational tone unable to fully hide his annoyance.

Mulciber blinked, the snarl slowly disappearing from his face as he turned around to look confusedly at Avery. A crowd of curious Slytherin was slowly forming around them; Mulciber took little to no time to notice. A twisted smile contorted the boy’s features, on his face the look of excitement of someone who had just chased his prey down a corner.

‘My homework, Snape’ he demanded, a twisted smile on his face.

Severus raised his eyebrow. He had been expecting threats, screams and ultimately some form of punishment that would remind him he ought to be thankful his presence was tolerated within the Dormitory, but… homework? Really? He assessed the boy, his triumphant expression and the nature of the request so childish, that Severus did not even know whether he found himself amused or merely annoyed.

‘What about it?’ he asked, his voice cold as he looked at the boy straight in the eye.

Mulciber moved away from his gaze, shifting uneasily.

‘Don’t play dumb with me, Snape! You know what I mean! I decided that since you refuse to apologise to me, you’ll do my homework for the next month!’ he snapped, his face an interesting shade of purple, red sparks flying from the tip of his wand.

Severus stared down his large nose at the dark wood. The mere fact that he had just been asked to complete homework was downright humiliating of course, especially after having been a professor for seventeen years. He could feel his patience running thin.

‘Indeed? And what made you think I would agree to do such a thing?’ he said coldly, his black eyes gleaming as, after the initial surprise, Mulciber’s face turned scarlet, his fists trembling at his sides. Had he truly been afraid of Mulciber? Good Lord, he had been pathetic.

‘You’ll do it!’ he screamed at the top of his lungs, his face the deepest of red as he spat those words a mere foot from Severus’ face. There was a pause, filled by the hushed whispers of the crowd surrounding them. Severus sneered.

Students… No doubt they were hoping to enjoy a nice little fight just before bedtime. He averted his eyes, his gaze drifting back to the bulky boy.

‘No, Mulciber… And if, as I suspect, any of these assignments is due tomorrow, I suggest you head to the Library and start writing. I refuse to waste any more of my time. Have a good night’ he sneered, leaving behind a gawking Mulciber and the rising sound of whispers.

Drawing the curtains around his bed, Severus reached out for his wand, adding some complex spells to the wards he had previously placed around his four-poster.

Taking his grey nightshirt from under the pillow, he started to undress himself.

What an impertinent fool…

Asking him to do his homework. Even in his youth he could not even remember having ever complied to anything more than a quick correction of his and Avery’s poorly written essays. He refused to stoop that low, appearances be damned; he would no longer join the Dark Lord, not even an imbecile would consider it.

Severus closed his eyes, resting his head on the pillow and placing his black wand underneath it. He had just fallen asleep when his eyes snapped open once more, his gaze fixing on the close curtain of his bed. The sound of footsteps was followed by a yelp of pain. His lips stretched in a light smile: Dumbledore would not be pleased.

Chapter Text

Lily shifted on her bed, turning slightly as the first rays of sunshine peered through the heavy curtains of her four-poster. She grimaced, her pale arm moving sluggishly, shielding her closed eyelids from the rising sun. Finding that new position quite uncomfortable, she raised her head from the soft pillow, her left cheek sporting the faint marks of the covers as her eyes slowly fixed on the scarlet curtains.

With bleary eyes, she pulled them shut, cursing both Scotland and her negligence to check that they had been properly drawn before falling asleep. Now that the Scottish summer was once again approaching, she was starting to see why Severus seemed to like the dungeons so much; not that living in the darkest place of the castle had ever done much to improve his health and complexion.

Lily rolled on her back, staring at the red curtains of her bed. She wondered what he’d say if she told him he should be spending more time outside. He’d probably sneer at her, but Lily really believed some genuine sunlight would be good for him. In fact, he’d look so much better with a bit of colour on his skin. Spending all the time away from the sunlight couldn’t possibly be healthy.

Her lips stretched into a sad smile. Indeed, if he kept eating so little and avoiding the sunlight so much, people would soon start to believe she was friends with a vampire. She sniggered, though there wasn’t really anything funny about Sev’s willingness to disregard his health, nor about his inability to remember that he too was a human being and that he needed both food and sleep.

She sighed. She knew it was easy for him to lose any concept of time when he was working, but lately he had been experimenting with dangerous magic and she was worried. She knew he had been casting those spells on himself, hastily covering cuts that wouldn’t heal from her gaze, as though Lily wouldn’t recognise them for what they were. He was dabbling in Dark Magic, no matter how much he told her defensively that he would only use those spells in self-defence.

That statement itself was of course worrying, as Severus’ Law of Retaliation often tended to be more along the lines of an arm for a hand. Lily grimaced; she couldn’t really see how having your enemy bleeding to death was any better than any of the horrible Dark spells Death Eater used. Severus had to be better than that.

She chewed her bottom lip; indeed, she’d created those studying sessions in the hope he’d spend less time trying to come up with spells that would impress those future Death Eaters. They didn’t have much time to spend time together, but Severus had always been studious and practical. The likelihood of him declining had been low, but a picnic? Would he want to? Lily could already see him scowling at the flowers.

How long had it even been since they’d done something together?

Her expression saddened. They used to be close. How long had it been since they last had a meaningful conversation? One that hadn’t ended up with him insulting James Potter and checking whether she was still willing to do the same? True, she could’ve hung out with Mary, Marlene or even Remus and Dorcas, but she just wanted to go back and have what they’d had. She was just afraid that it might be too late.

Still, the day before he had been really nice and kind, even though there had been something weird about him. There had been a strange light in his eyes, something dark and creepy, that hadn’t been there before, but there had also been concern and kindness. Lily grimaced, the strange twitch of his lips when he had told her that no one had died still fresh in her mind. She shook her head, trying not to think about it. It had been just that one moment, after all, and that didn’t change the fact that it had been very sweet of him to try to put her worries at ease.

In fact, now that she thought about it, she had been pleasantly surprised to see that he had offered her more than a dismissive explanation as of why it was stupid to worry. She would’ve never expected him to notice her discomfort and realise she had needed more than that.

Had he been trying to make up for their lost study session? It hadn’t looked as though he had been expecting to see her, but he had looked far too pale and tired for Lily to be really angry about that anyway. She sighed, the muffled sound of someone opening a trunk causing her head to jerk up. She drew the curtains of her bed open, temporarily blinded by the much stronger light coming from the tall windows.

‘Morning, Lils’

Lily rubbed her eyes, sitting upright and crossing her legs, her blanket still resting on her shoulders.

‘Morning’ she replied, offering Marlene a small, sleepy smile.

‘Don’t tell me, you forgot to draw the curtain… again’ Marlene said, laughing heartily and earning herself a disgruntled sound from Mary’s bed. Lily looked at the sleeping girl, but she was still smiling when she pressed her forefinger against her lips, warning the other redhead to be quiet.

Marlene grinned and Lily noticed with shock that there was a quill resting in her hand and a piece of parchment on her lap.

‘Blimey, Marlene, how do you manage? I doubt I could even write a paragraph now’ Lily said, feeling so tired that she couldn’t help but being impressed by her friend’s ability to function at half past five in the morning.

They stared at the rising sun, the first rays of sunlight playing on the smooth surface of the Black Lake, the enormous shadow of the Giant Squid inhabiting its depths slowly stirring from its torpor.

A long tentacle stretched towards the sky, splashes of water glistening in the warm light of sunrise, so that for a moment Lily regretted her inability to wake at such an hour a bit more often. She stared at the tall trees surrounding the lake, the beautiful mountains around them making the whole view breathtaking.

Marlene gave her a quick look, a cheerful smile spreading across her freckled face.

‘I told you Gryffindor was the best’ she said chirping.

Her hair was a much lighter shade than Lily’s, a bright orange in the warm light illuminating the Girls’ Dormitory. Lily smiled, stifling a laugh when her friend’s eyes darted back to the thick book sprawled on her bedspread, a disgruntled expression clouding her previous happiness.

‘I know… I’d gladly offer you to go down by the lake for a walk, but I don’t have much choice if I want to pass my O.W.L.s and I’ve got Quidditch practice this afternoon’ she grunted, playing with her quill.

‘I’m not that good at Transfiguration, but I’m alright with the rest, even though you’re probably better at Defence. We could study together’ Lily said, without thinking of anything but the fact that no one should have to study at such ungodly hour. Marlene huffed, leaning against the thick, wooden column of her bed and raising an eyebrow.

‘What, with you and Snape?’ she asked with a piercing look, ‘No, thanks’

Lily blushed. That’s right, she thought, uncomfortably, they don’t like Severus; never mind that they have never exchanged more than a few words with him. Was it such a ridiculous idea though? Merlin knew it would have made wonders for Severus’ reputation to show that he could make friends with people who were not blood purists or Slytherins. Studying with him wouldn’t have hurt Marlene either, she thought with a grimace.

‘Well… why not? I’m sure Severus wouldn’t mind’ she started tentatively, cringing at the blatant lie, because she was fairly sure that Severus would mind.

He had always been a bit jealous of her other friends, but he wouldn’t say no if she asked him nicely, would he? Lily decided to ignore the part of her brain pointing out the physical impossibility of having both Sev and Marlene sitting at the same table and being civil to one another, no matter how much she liked the idea.

Marlene scoffed, raising her eyebrows.

‘I mean it, Marlene, Severus is not so bad once you get to know him, besides, he’s really smart’ she said, somehow awkwardly.

Marlene’s eyebrows were now dangerously close to her hairline. She gave Lily a long stare, then she groaned and let out a sigh, giving her a knowing look.

‘Is he? No offence, Lils, but he’s downright horrible, never mind his looks. I don’t even know how you put up with him’ said Marlene, raising both her hands defensively when Lily stiffened.

‘He’s not horrible and-’

‘Yes, he is, love, but do we really need to discuss Snape at five in the morning?’ said a grumpy voice from the bed besides Lily’s.

Lily turned around, finding herself facing a very crossed Dorcas, her face still half buried under the blankets as she glared at them both. Lily wetted her lips, guilt and embarrassment taking hold of her features. She’d been so quick in losing her temper that the fact that Dorcas and Mary were still rightfully asleep had been quick to escape her mind.

And now… Well, Dorcas’ expression looked quite foreboding, a bit like Sev’s really. The only difference was that Lily didn’t know her well enough to tell whether she was genuinely annoyed.

‘I’m so sorry Dorcas, we… forgot… we should’ve used a Silencing spell’ she said as she stared at the dark-skinned girl, thinking that few people would sound as scary as Dorcas with their speech still garbled from sleep.

‘Yeah, you should’ve’ she sighed, a small smile stretching upon her lips as she noticed that Lily had taken her anger far too seriously.

‘Damage’s done, no need to apologise at this point, but Marlene’s right. If I were you, Lily, I’d tell him to get lost. You’re too nice for your own good and he’s a Slytherin and a slimy one at that’ she said, rubbing her eyes. Lily’s eyes darted to Marlene; the girl shrugged. On her face the look of someone that had just thought “I told you so”.

‘Don’t look at me like that, Lils, you know it’s true. James’s right, you know? He’s so ugly that with his ugly face alone I wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up working in one of those creepy shops in Knockturn Alley’

‘That’s not true, Marlene, and he isn’t horrible, you don’t even know him’ Lily protested.

‘I don’t need to. They’re all the same, that’s just how it is with Slytherins’ Marlene said, frowning.

‘He’s not like the others. And just because he’s not really-’ Lily bit her lip before she could say the word “attractive” or even worse “handsome”, two adjectives that quite frankly could hardly be applied to her best friend without mockery, no matter how much Lily loved him, she thought with discomfort. Severus was brilliant and clever, but with his unkempt hair, gaunt face and big nose, he wasn’t exactly what came to mind when people thought of the word “attractive”.

And yet, he wasn’t a monster, nor did he look that different from the other boys of his age, with knobbly knees and long arms and legs and the air of someone that was still growing into himself, she thought with a fond smile. Awkward yes, but he truly wasn’t that ugly.

‘Yes?’ said Dorcas, while Marlene barely managed to suppress a laugh. Lily scowled, hating Marlene for supporting Dorcas, but the truth was that none of her friends seemed to like Sev.

‘He’s not ugly, Marlene’ she said, her expression one of defiance. Dorcas snorted.

‘Marlene’s got a point, but as long as he’s your friend you don’t have to find him attractive. Regardless, that’s not why I don’t like him… Hexing our brooms and everything, I should’ve-’, she stopped, her mouth setting in a hard line as she frowned.

‘Stop it’ Lily said angrily, cutting across her as she finally lost her patience.

‘And so what if he’s not really attractive? He’s smart, and his looks won’t stop him from having a brilliant career, like a Healer or a Potioneer. You’re all jealous because his grades are better than yours’ she said and immediately regretted it.

She had struck a nerve. She looked at Marlene, her essay still on her lap. Brilliant as she was, Lily knew that without having read further than her textbook, Professor Flitwick wouldn’t give her more than an Acceptable. It couldn’t be helped, not now, for the Library didn’t open before seven thirty. Needless to say, Marlene knew it as well.

The look on Marlene’s face caused a rush of guilt. That was a thing she and Severus had in common, they both knew where to strike. Very much like Severus, Lily could have a sharp tongue. It mattered not how rarely she did it or how very much she disliked that particular quality; it was easy for those words to escape her lips when she was feeling angry. She hated hurting people, but then again, she also didn’t like what her friends were saying about Severus.

Marlene’s mouth thinned, her expression hardening.

‘He would have to be nice and have a least some concept of personal hygiene to get either of those jobs. I don’t know if you noticed, but I could count on one hand the days in which he’s washed his hair this past month… We were wondering, does he…’

‘Marlene’ said Dorcas in warning, but Lily knew what she’d been about to say.

Her face flushed scarlet, whether in anger or in embarrassment she could not say.

‘No and stop laughing, I’ll have you both know that he doesn’t smell!’ she yelled, eyeing her aggressively. Merlin knew she was going to hex them both if they didn’t stop straightaway.

‘All right, all right, calm down, tiger. Marlene was only joking’ said Dorcas, her dark eyes resting on the other redhead in a way that said “you went too far”.

Marlene merely shrugged so unapologetically that Lily found herself adding:

‘And I’ll also have you know that he’s never even been in Knockturn Alley, let alone in one of those dirty shops, so I don’t see how he could ever consider working there!’ she finished, glaring at the girls and genuinely regretting ever drawing the curtain of her bed.

Marlene gave her a cheeky smile.

‘Give him some time and I’m sure he’ll love it’

Lily scowled, seriously considering hitting Marlene with her slipper at that point and blatantly ignoring that, truth be told, a trip to Knockturn Alley would be Sev’s equivalent of Christmas. She suddenly felt very stupid when the following thought was that as long as she was around, he wasn’t going anywhere near that place. She grimaced, it wasn’t as though she could stop him, but those thoughts showed that she no longer trusted him to do the sensible thing. The realisation left her with a strange feeling in her stomach.

Dorcas shook her head, grabbing her robes and some towels as she headed for a shower. Yes, a shower would be a good idea, Lily thought, trying to ignore how uncomfortable she was feeling after their discussion.

‘Hey, Lils?’ Marlene asked after a while, staring curiously at her sad expression. Lily stopped rummaging in her trunk, her uniform neatly folded in her lap as she got up from her kneeled position. She sighed, rubbing her eyes and giving Marlene a tired look.

‘I’m sorry, let’s forget about Snape, we meant no harm. We’re just worried’ she said with a rueful look. Lily nodded, frowning slightly when Marlene yawned, all of a sudden not looking very sorry at all.

‘Listen, why don’t you go to that date? James says he’d really like to go to Hogsmeade with you. It’d be just the one, nothing more and if you don’t like it, he’ll leave you alone and stop asking’, Lily scoffed, her expression a mixture of anger and disbelief as she quickly opened her mouth to reply.

‘Just to get your mind off the oncoming O.W.L.s. You know that cafe? I’ve been there and it’s very nice. Just consider it. He told me to remind you that everything’s on him of course, and that he’ll be a real gentleman’ she finished with a grin.

Lily looked at her and grimaced, Marlene’s obvious happiness leaving her with a bitter taste in her mouth. She had conveniently forgotten that her loyalty towards her Quidditch Captain extended far beyond the Quidditch Pitch.

James considered Marlene like a sister, the grit and stamina of the small Scottish girl difficult to ignore in a sport where women where often shoved off their brooms by much bigger male players. And for the love of her, Lily couldn’t understand why, with people like Marlene around, Potter would be so interested in someone like her. They didn’t have anything in common, not a single thing, especially Quidditch and that alone was at least three quarters of Potter’s life.

Marlene or even Dorcas would’ve been much more fitting girlfriends for his lifestyle. Indeed, she had often wondered whether Potter might have just been in for a difficult conquest. Or perhaps he had simply been too spoiled to learn that no meant no. Why else would he look at her as though she was some strange, exotic creature every time she rejected him? She was mildly aware that he didn’t do it on purpose, his confusion too genuine to be fake, but that didn’t make his behaviour any less exasperating.

‘Please, Lily, just give him a chance. He’s my friend, I swear, he genuinely likes you. He really does, it’s not just a crush’ she added, crossing her legs on the mattress and nodding encouragingly. Lily huffed, Marlene’s words leaving her temporarily speechless.

‘You’re not his owl, Marlene’ she said at last, ‘he can talk to me himself if he wants a date’ she finished, her voice coming out harsher than she had initially intended as she spat the last word.

Marlene sucked in her lips, studying her for a moment.

‘Well, he did. He even said he’ll even leave Sniv- Snape be if you agree’ she said, quickly correcting herself, though the slip didn’t go unnoticed to Lily’s attentive ears.

She narrowed her eyes, pursing her lips, anger rising once more.

‘Yes, Marlene, he asked, more than once and I said no. And he can’t just threaten Sev to get a date, do you even realise how wrong that is? The arrogant toerag… I swear I can’t stand him!’

‘Lily, please, just list-’

‘He’s your friend Marlene, I get it, but if I hear him threatening Sev one more time I’ll go straight to Professor McGonagall and land him in detention for the rest of his school days. Mark my words, Marlene, because I’ll do it. Just pray he stops before I find myself in that position’ she said darkly, her face stark and serious as she yanked a pair of clean socks and a bra from her trunk, slamming it shut.

‘Whoa, calm down, Lils. He didn’t mean it like that and you know how Snape is, he’s always trying to get them in trouble, James’ just-’ Marlene started, raising her hands defensively, but Lily was no longer willing to listen.

‘I’m going for a shower. And I’ll let you know that I’m studying with Sev today, so tell Potter I’ll curse him into the next week if I find out he’s been bothering him because of me’ she said coolly, swinging her bag on her shoulder, determined to head straight to breakfast after her shower, no matter how early it was.

‘Lily, wait, I-’

‘I’ll see you in class, Marlene, be sure to tell him that Hell will freeze before I go out on a date with him’

And with a last sharp look, Lily headed downstairs, determined not to deal with Dorcas and Marlene for the rest of the day.

Severus entered the Potions Class with a scowl, the familiar scent of herbs and the heavy fumes coming from the steaming cauldrons, helping him clear his mind. The quiet bubbling of potions and silence offered by the Dungeons had been something he had deeply missed during his last year as a Headmaster. He closed his eyes for a second, trying to ignore the splitting headache pulsing behind his temples. Merlin knew he needed some sleep.

He looked at the class that had been his for fifteen years, mildly irked by the lack of the items he’d hung on the walls. Instead, trophies and pictures of former students’ achievements decorated the walls, the portly figure of the current Professor smiling from the frames as he shook his pupils’ hands. The sight alone was enough to churn his stomach.

Severus had never been a man prone to such mawkishness. He had cared very little about his students, limiting himself to occasionally correspond with the handful of them that had shown a modicum of understanding for the subject and had sought his advice. He had occasionally given it, ignoring their flattery when they had called him a genius. Severus had had no time for admirers. He loathed anything that served as the reminder of his youthful potential and everything that had gone wrong with his life.

Severus sneered, his black eyes roaming the rows of empty seats in front of him. He soon found himself mere feet from his old desk, his school bag hanging awkwardly on his shoulder. He sneered, not even realising he’d been walking towards it as his hand rested on it.

A number of rare potion ingredients rested on the shelves, close to the pictures and lazily reflecting the torch light. His eyes fell on dragon foetus placed in the highest shelf behind Slughorn’s desk. Severus would have known better than leave such a thing where any foolish first year could reach it. He would have never offered it as a prize to his students; as though any of them would’ve known what to do with it.

The class was starting to fill with chatter and he sneered, looking at said students, shuddering at the thought that he would soon have to sit amongst them and in his own classroom no less.

And to think that less than two days before he had been the school’s Headmaster… And now here he was, looking no different from those moronic dunderheads, forced to relive his life as though the last twenty-two years of his miserable existence had never happened. What a fucking joke. Somewhere in the afterlife, he could imagine Dumbledore enjoying the show.

‘Are you ok, Sev?’ asked Lily at his back.

Severus stiffened, his heart sinking in his chest as he turned around, the sight of Lily’s lively green eyes causing his heart to falter. He swallowed, his previous annoyance for his predicament leaving place to more complicated and contorted feelings. She smiled and Severus’ stomach twisted with unease, his mouth becoming dry as he fought the desire to flee.

She really shouldn’t be smiling at him; but despite the wrongness of it, Severus couldn’t help but stare, looking at her as though she was some sort of ethereal creature.

Lily shifted on her feet. She waited for him to answer her question, but he didn’t; he just stood there as stiff as the board behind of him. She had thought a good night sleep would be enough for him to recover, but the truth was that Severus didn’t really look much better than he had done on the previous day; his skin still sickly pale as he continued to stare at her as though he had never seen her before.

She watched him tense, his hand lightly gripping the teacher’s desk. Her forehead crinkled with a hint of worry. He lowered his gaze, removing his hand from the desk at once when he noticed she was staring at it, his mouth twisting in a sneer. She gave him a small smile.

‘Looking forward to your teaching days, Sev? I didn’t know you wanted to be a professor, but I doubt you could teach the class just yet’ she teased him with a smile, grinning as she waited for him to crack a smile. Severus’ lips merely thinned, the look on his face so strange that Lily soon found herself frowning.

‘I beg to differ’ he said, his black eyes narrowing when a bunch of loud students entered the classroom. Lily blinked, her lips parting slightly as she realised, he looked mildly offended.

‘I assure you, Lily, that I would perfectly qualify to teach a bunch of dunderheads how to brew an elementary fifth year potion’ he sneered, his voice laced with contempt as his eyes roamed the classroom once more, the chatter around them making her question whether she had not just misunderstood his words.

His dark eyes locked on hers as he seemingly tried to look down at her, an impossible task considering he stood barely a couple of inches taller than Lily. He frowned for a second, the fleeting look of confusion on his face soon replaced by one of embarrassment as Lily laughed. An ugly blush spread through his cheek as he averted his eyes. Lily fought the urge to smile.

‘Come on, let’s take a seat. I doubt Slughorn would let you teach, Sev, whether you think you qualify or not’ she said, walking past him and setting down her bag on the second row of desks on the left. Severus opened his mouth to reply, but closed it right away, his mouth twisting in a sneer when he was almost knocked to the side by Doroty Bulstrode.

His murderous expression would’ve been much funnier hadn’t she noticed how sickly he still looked. Lily frowned, studying the dark circles under his eyes, the fact that his lank hair was clean not doing much to improve the general picture. She gulped. Hopefully he wasn’t practicing Dark Magic instead of sleeping, she thought, nibbling her bottom lip. Madam Pince had warned to exert caution when venturing in the Restricted Section, some of the most restricted books out there liked to feed on magic, she remembered with a shudder.

‘Had a good night’s sleep?’ she inquired lightly, changing the subject. Severus, who had been looking at the chattering students, looked back at her, surprise clearly etched on his face, the obvious signs of sleep deprivation on his face too obvious to hide.

‘I… I slept fairly well’ he said, clearing his throat; an obvious lie judging by his looks, but still, Lily decided to push away her discomfort, turning around when Slughorn walked inside the classroom, bidding them good afternoon.

‘Now then, scales out everyone and don’t forget your potions kits’ said Slughorn, his massive frame moving between desks to check if they were indeed doing as they were told.

Severus sighed, an uneasy feeling churning in his stomach as he opened the potions kit that had been his mother’s. His gaze perused the different tools and despite the wretched state of some knives and the faded numbers on his beakers, he felt a strange surge of nostalgia. It suddenly hit him that his mother might be still alive, his gaze darkening when he realised that his father must be too.

He still remembered how happy he had been when his mother had given him old Potions kit and old textbooks, including some old books that she had managed to snatch from her father’s library after she’d been disowned. It had been far before Hogwarts, but he’d been a curious child and his mother’s increasingly advanced books had kept him out of her way.

They hadn’t been books fit for a child and he had thankfully been a teen when his father had caught a glimpse of the twisted bodies represented in one of said books. Severus had received a violent thrashing and so had his mother, her name being the one scribbled on the inside cover; her father accusing her of wanting to turn his worthless son into an evil witch. The violence that had followed had been one of the reasons Severus had become a Death Eater.

‘Well, then. Today we will be brewing the Awakening Potion, which you may also have come to know under the name of Wideye. Now, now, I know what you are thinking’, said Slughorn, reprimanding two students that at the word “Wideye” had started to grin, ‘and I know that within a month to your O.W.L.s it can be tempting… but you must not abuse it. Preventing the drinker from falling asleep and acting as an antidote for the Draught of Living Death, the Awakening Potion can have serious consequences for your health- as well as your teeth’ Slughorn finished, smiling slightly as, at the mention of its side effects, the two dunderheads stopped grinning at once.

Severus looked at the ceiling, grimacing when he automatically traced the outlines of his teeth, crooked and uneven, but yet to be stained. Bad consequences for your teeth… Yes, he would know everything about that. Between the Wideye Potion and the Sleeping Draught, he couldn’t honestly remember which one he had abused most, if not that none of the two had done anything to improve his abhorrent smile.

Severus closed his eyes, his temples pulsing, his teenage body struggling to function on the few hours of sleep he had managed to get that night. His eyes darted to Slughorn’s office as he carefully considered the risks of stealing a few vials. The events of the last few days had left him… shaken, the memory of Nagini’s fangs and the gurgling sounds coming from his throat replaying every time he closed his eyes. And with Lily being alive… he was… distracted.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to listen to Slughorn and almost laughing at the thought that, had he still been in the future, this state of mind would’ve costed him his life; as though the bloody Dark Lord hadn’t killed him already.

The Awakening Potion, Severus thought, forcing his mind to focus on the present. He had lost count of how many times he had taught it to his students, often brewing it on a weekly base. He looked dismissively at his copy of “Magical Drafts and Potions” and sighed, moving it aside as he retrieved his cauldron.

But it was Lily’s gaze on him that forced him to remember that Severus Snape, the boy, was unlikely to have already memorised the entire school curriculum. He opened his book, his cheeks colouring slightly as he pretended to read the instructions. Lily gave him a smile, her eyes drifting back to Slughorn, unaware that at least a third of the students had long since stopped listening to the lecture.

Severus sneered; very few students showed interest in Potions, it was one of the reasons why having an Apothecary was such a lucrative career.

‘And remember to heat the cauldron for five minutes’, seven minutes, Severus thought peevishly, staring at his book with a frown, his fingers twitching for quill and ink. Arsenius Jigger had been a mediocre potioneer, his recipes produced subpar concoctions. Indeed, the only reason why Jigger’s book was still in the school curriculum was because his fool of a grandnephew had been given an important seat on the school board.

Of course, not many potioneers had been keen on writing school books. Indeed, most decent potioneers reluctantly shared their recipes, often adding small missteps that would cause the potions to never turn quite right. It was one of the things Severus had always found so engaging about potions. He had loved recognising those subtle traps for what they were, the missteps becoming increasingly more dire and dark in nature when it came to Dark Witches and Wizards.

To Dumbledore’s displeasure, Severus had loved brewing those Dark potions.

Of course, nothing outside the Restricted Session would be dangerous for the students, not that any of those dunderheads had needed any subterfuge to turn his precise and perfectly safe instructions into a potentially lethal concoction. Formulas that had made sure that even his worse students would scrape an Acceptable in their O.W.L.s. Not that any of those dunderheads had ever showed any appreciation for his work, he thought unhappily.

‘… So, off you go, now. If everything goes smoothly, you should be able to finish it in less than one hour’ Slughorn finished with a small nod.

Ignoring the general clatter of beakers and cylinders, Severus walked towards the potion cupboard, getting all the required ingredients with an air of impatience. Going back to his desk he was already crushing both snake fangs and dried Billywig stings in the mortar, when his eyes caught a movement to his right.

He froze as his gaze fixed on a bespectacled boy with unruly black hair, torn between shock and rising feelings of hatred.

Potter.

A muscle in his jaw twitched, his blood boiling like it had not done in years, for it looked as though that arrogant cretin would continue to torment him after death and beyond. It was of little consequence to him that this Potter did not sport a pair of bright green eyes and a lightning bolt scar, he had rarely thought of them as anything but the perfect reincarnation of one another. If not that Potter the father had been worse and was only currently half his age.

His eyes narrowed, flashing dangerously as he saw Potter confabulating with what Severus immediately recognised as Black, his face not yet hollowed by the years spent in Azkaban. Not that even when he’d turned into a filthy stray dog, Black had ever lost the change to comment on Severus’ hair and physical appearance, he thought with a sneer.

They must have felt his piercing gaze on them, because suddenly they looked at him, their faces filling with mutual hatred. Something old and wretched reared its ugly head when he saw that Lily’s eyes were now on Potter. He could only watch as Potter gave her a roughish smile, swelling his chest a little as he ruffled his already messy hair. Severus looked at Potter, a new rush of hatred and panic clouding his mind when he saw that such childish behaviour had made Lily blush.

And then their eyes met; and he realised that Potter knew. He knew what Severus felt for Lily, knew that she would only pity him were she to learn the truth. And hadn’t he been right? She’d married and had had a child with him, whilst Severus had gone off and become a Death Eater.

He clenched his jaw, staring murderously at her future husband. He hadn’t felt such corrosive hatred in years, not even for that idiot’s spawn. And the worst thing was that he knew that it was only a matter of time before he would take her away from him, pushing his buttons until Lily truly saw him for what he was.

Severus’ heart sank, his guts twisting with both pain and guilt. He stared at Potter’s smile, recognising the old feeling for what it was. He was jealous, jealous of Potter and scared that because of him, Lily would once again decide to never talk to him again. The feeling was all too familiar and unchanged; if not for the fact that he was now jealous of a boy half his age, the fact making him nothing short of a pathetic old man.

Severus averted his eyes, ashamed, his gaze resting on a sickly boy, with a pale face and dark circles under his eyes. Lupin, he thought, his eyes narrowing. Next to him was an anxious looking boy with mousy hair and prominent front teeth. Severus’ lips curled in disgust; and to think that people had thought that he had aged badly…

He knew who the boy was, but Wormtail looked uncannily human, the realisation alone somehow disconcerting if one lingered on the fact that that pathetic, quivering boy would end up looking more like a sewer rat than an actual human being. Wormtail had been revolting, his quivering nature evoking disgust amongst Death Eaters and Order members alike.

Severus felt the bile rising in his throat as he recalled Lily’s letter and her concern over Wormtail’s distress, her kind heart unable to even conceive how anyone could be so rotten. Worthless and pathetic. And yet wasn’t Severus just equally responsible for Lily’s death? The only difference being that he trusted himself more to protect her than he trusted Wormtail not to betray her.

‘Hey, Evans. Would you like me to crush your ingredients?’

Severus’ lips parted, his mouth quickly curling into a grimace as his eyes slowly fixed on James Potter. The proposal was ludicrous of course, but his gaze darted to Lily all the same, fearing she might accept; but Lily merely blinked, as though, very much like Severus, she could not believe what she had just heard.

To Severus’ greatest delight, Potter’s smile quickly faded into nothingness. She glared at the dunderhead and Severus smirked, preannouncing her outburst. Needless to say, she did not disappoint him.

‘Thank you, Potter, but I’m perfectly capable of crushing them by myself!’ she said, eyeing Potter with great dislike before she got back to work.

Severus’ lips curled into a derisive smile, as he added his perfectly crushed ingredients to his cauldron. Lily was a few steps back, but he saw that she had reduced both snake fangs and Billywig stings to a neat and fine powder. He nodded approvingly, sneering at Potter’s clumsy tentative to crush all the ingredients at once in a vain attempt to save time.

He shuddered, his inner professor cringing as Potter threw everything inside his cauldron without even bothering to lower the heat. What was it? Gryffindor bravado that had brought him to ask her such a thing? What a pitiful display of chivalry. He should have known that Lily would not appreciate the chauvinistic implication that she would be unable to use a mortar.

He watched her lifting her cauldron with much more ease than he had done and he cringed as his eyes fell on his scrawny arms. She might have not liked Potter’s revolting personality, but was she attracted to Potter? She’d married him, so she must’ve. After all had she not blushed when the boy had ruffled his hair?

Severus stared at his bony knees and angular frame and scowled; he had never stood a chance. He had been too stupid to see it when he had been a boy, thinking that his quest for power would make up for his pitiful looks. It had never crossed his mind that Lily would be revolted by the man he had aspired to be. For a poor and ugly half-blood with no future, the Dark Lord’s promises had acted like a siren’s song.

And was he any better now? He was still poor and ugly and with no illusions that fear and power would make up for his lacking looks.

Severus sighed. There had never been anything he could offer her.

Going back to his potion, it wasn’t long before, despite all, he caught himself staring intently at her, his expression softening ever so slightly. She was working fast, glancing from time to time to the instructions, a small crease between her delicate eyebrows.

Severus’ heartbeat increased as her soft lips parted… He watched her tuck a rebellious lock of dark red hair behind her ear, wetting her lips and nibbling at her bottom lip as she bent over her cauldron to examine her potion. She was frowning slightly, her cheeks flushed by the proximity to the boiling potion. Severus averted his eyes, but they were so close that he could still feel her standing right beside him. She sighed and took the hairband on her wrist to tie her hair up in a ponytail.

There was nothing special about it, but nonetheless, Severus caught himself staring at the delicate curve of her neck, her dark robes unable to hide the feminine curves of her body. He gulped and visibly flinched when, in grabbing a Chizpurfle, her gentle fingers touched his. She looked at him and gave him an apologetic smile.

He averted his eyes, but a minute later his eyes fixed on the soft curves of her body. His eyes travelled further down as he stared at her long legs, her perfect arse looking lovely when she stood on her tiptoes to peer down her cauldron, muttering under her breath.

‘Sev, are you alright?’

Severus flinched, looking as though someone had just slapped him, her big green eyes staring at him with a hint of confusion, the clothes she was wearing a horrible reminder that she could have been one of his students.

‘Y- yes’ he stuttered, grimacing when she looked away only to glance sideways at him, apparently unconvinced.

He forced himself to wrench his gaze from her, his body showing a physical response that was nothing short of disgusting. Severus closed his eyes, mortified as he adjusted his robes, sickened with himself. There had been nothing sexual about her clothes, nothing that could’ve justified his reaction and yet… Oh, Merlin, he thought, grimacing, the sight of his scrawny legs reminding him that he was physically sixteen. The mere realisation that his body must be going through puberty caused his face to burn.

He knew that he still… loved her, but… looks asides, he wasn’t a love-sick teenager anymore, he was twice her age, it wasn’t right. What feeling attracted to her made of him now? Indeed, there was little to no reassurance to him that in all his adult life he had felt anything but contempt for silly girls and school robes, the thought hardly made him feel any better. Severus averted his eyes, swallowing a horrible lump in his throat and feeling suddenly sick, his previous excitement long forgotten.

He closed his eyes, disgust rearing in his throat. The reality was that Lily would have been appalled to know her friend was having such thoughts about her, let alone him. He was old and… He shouldn’t even be looking at her, but… he gulped, brushing his fingers just where she had touched him the day before, his hand trembling. Severus pressed his lips together, a tight knot forming in his throat. He was pathetic.

It was all a lie; she would not have cared had she known who he was. She had cared until he’d poisoned her with his hunger for glory and power, pushing her away. The mere thought still hurt. He had been the one to kill her. Her brilliance, her smile, her fiery temper and laugh… All gone because he had wanted to impress his Master.

Severus closed his eyes, his throat feeling like dry parchment as he tried to concentrate on the Awakening Potion; a potion that, unfortunately, wouldn’t have required a quarter of his full attention to be done properly even in his worst state of mind. Consequentially, it was no mystery that, despite the fact that he had imposed himself to look at her no longer, his eyes found once more on her delicate figure. A sad smile formed on his lips when he noticed that she had added three drops of leech juice and an extra clockwise stir.

He had never had a student quite like her and suddenly it was no mystery why in more than fifty years of teaching career, Slughorn had always regarded Lily as a personal favourite. He willed himself to avert his eyes before they could drift once again on her figure, her boiling potion now close to a perfect shade of pale blue.

‘Use eight Chizpurfle carapaces instead of six’ he advised, before going back to his work, his decision to help her a lame attempt to ease the guilt caused by his previous thoughts.

Lily looked at her best friend, her eyes bulging when she noticed with shock that Severus had nearly finished his potion. She stared at his open book, its position suggesting that he must have barely glanced at it. She frowned, her eyes following his figure. His movements were smooth and fast, brimming with confidence. She blinked when he severed the Chizpurfle carapace with almost surgical precision, adding it to the cauldron with one swift movement.

Her lips parted. What… Lily’s forehead creased. That couldn’t be the first time he’d brewed it, not even Severus was that good. He must’ve done it before, but why would he… Oh…

Slughorn had said it was a dangerous potion to abuse and … Lily gulped, something clicking in her mind. She thought of how he had opened the book only after noticing her stare and wondered why it had taken her so long to realise. Because, knowing Severus, Lily knew he was exactly the sort of person who might just love and abuse something that prevented the drinker from falling asleep.

A grimace twisted her lips. As though he didn’t neglect his physiological needs enough as it was! Her eyes flickered down to his potion, then she stared straight in his eye, causing him to stiffen, his shoulders slouching defensively.

‘Well?’ he asked stiffly, he had never liked being stared with such persistence, but Lily could have almost sworn he looked strangely defensive.

She took a deep breath, her tongue tracing her lips as she studied his haggard face worriedly. He was an idiot, he really was and he must have taken it, she could only hope it wasn’t to experiment with Dark Magic. Lily took a deep breath.

‘You’ve brewed it before. Is this why you look so-’

He frowned, but his eyes were hard when they meet hers. Lily’s skin prickled.

‘Hardly’ he said begrudgingly, his tone suggesting that even if he’d had, it wouldn’t have been any of her business. She narrowed her eyes, not buying it.

What did he mean by “hardly”? Which question was he answering? Was it hardly the first time he had brewed it, or was it hardly the reason why he looked so tired? She was about to ask him as much, but sensing her confusion he preceded her.

‘Believe me, at the present moment the Awakening Potion is the last thing I need’ he said darkly, turning the beaker in his right hand, his gaze going briefly to Slughorn’s office. Something clicked.

‘But, Sev, if you’re not sleeping…’ she started, tentatively, eyeing him with concern.

‘Nothing that a Sleeping Draught will not fix’ he answered, lowering the heat of both his and her cauldron. Sleeping Draught were restricted, Madam Pomfrey would not give him one unless she thought it was absolutely necessary. Well, that shouldn’t be a problem, one look at his face and… Lily took a sharp breath, her heart skipping a beat as she stared at the state of her own concoction.

Oh, God, she had completely forgotten about it. She looked at her watch and a choked sound came out of her lips. It was an ugly purple now and looked so far from the final stage described in the book that Lily thought she might have successfully managed to brew a lethal concoction.

She looked at Severus’ cauldron. How on earth had he managed to avoid blowing everything up without even looking at it? Her eyes darted to Slughorn; her heart sunk. She didn’t want to get a bad grade, but there was no avoiding it. There wasn’t enough time to start over.

She flinched when she turned towards her best friend, only to find him a few inches from her cauldron. She waited for him to roll his eyes and sneer at her carelessness and let out a sigh. He briefly looked at her, without saying a word, before going back to his cauldron. She grimaced.

‘Stir it four times counter-clockwise, add three drops of essence of wormwood and six clockwise stirs, it should be enough to bring it back to its previous state’

Lily’s eyes widened incredulously as she stared at her best friend. He had a solution? For that mess? How…

‘Are you sure?’ she stuttered, glancing at Slughorn and followed his directions when he gave her a single nod. The potion had been so volatile that despite Severus’ understanding of the subject she was still surprised when the first dropped of wormwood reduced the angry bubbling to a simmer. She frowned. The colour had been likely caused by the wolfsbane being added after the boiling point and left unstirred, but…

She wouldn’t have normally followed instructions she didn’t fully understand, but Severus wouldn’t knowingly put her into danger and, whether she fully understood it or not, he had shown a deep understanding of the potion.

She worked fast, her shoulders sagging with relief when Slughorn bended over her potion and gave her a smile. It wasn’t perfect, but it was stable and safe.

Lily slumped back in her seat, wiping the sweat from her forehead. Her eyes darted back on Severus; Slughorn’s mouth opened slightly. He started at his cauldron, blinking a few times, stunned. Lily found herself smiling slightly.

‘B- but this is excellent, m’boy! Absolutely brilliant, I daresay a mere sip would keep us all awake for days!’ he cried to the whole class, so that some students briefly stopped what they were doing to stare at Severus, who merely grimaced, slightly annoyed.

She glanced at Potter and his friends. Potter’s eyes were narrowed; a devilish grin stretched on Black’s face as he whispered something in his best friend’s ear, staring at Sev’s cauldron. Lily’s eyes met Lupin’s, her fellow Prefect squirming uncomfortably under her gaze.

She put a stasis charm on her potion and touched her friend lightly on the shoulder. He stiffened, but only stared at her when she gave him a smile.

‘You’re brilliant, Sev, you really are, I don’t know what I would’ve done without you. Professor Slughorn’s looked stunned, I’ve never seen him like that’ she said and she meant every word. Not only had he saved her potion, but he had also managed to brew a perfect potion himself, earning Slughorn’s praise.

He looked mildly uncomfortable; his pale face flushing slightly as he fought to hide his embarrassment. She smiled; it seemed almost surreal that no less than twenty-four hours ago she had thought he no longer cared about their friendship. Granted, nothing would’ve happened if he hadn’t helped her. As much she loathed to admit it, Professor Slughorn’s could be awfully forgiving when it came to his favourite students. It wasn’t really fair and the last thing she wanted was to take advantage of his kindness. Muggleborns were often laughed at for being teacher’s pets.

She studied hard that was true and respected her teachers; Hogwarts was difficult to adjust for someone coming from a non-magical background after all. She could only imagine how much harder it would have been had she not found a shy and sullen boy in the park, his eyes lighting up whenever he talked about magic. He had made her a part of that world, talking about the grand future waiting for them both. No war, just two children that would claim their rightful place in that fantasy world.

Of course, things had changed over the years, the magical world had as many problems as the real one if not more, but Lily still remembered Cokeworth’s dirty river and polluted air disappearing in the background when Severus told her stories of the great lake and merpeople and of the centaurs living in the forest and shooting with their arrows at Dark Wizards.

She smiled. Severus had changed, but the blush on his cheeks told her he had not become a complete stranger.

‘Y- you’re… you are welcome’ he stuttered, his pale face flushing scarlet.

He really didn’t know how to handle unexpected compliments, that and unexpected physical contact.

‘Now, I’d like everyone to leave a vial on my desk for marking, then you’re free to go and remember to read the next chapter, we will be revising the Draught of Peace next week’ said Slughorn, raising his voice so that he could be heard over the scraping of chairs.

Lily’s eyes drifted back on Sev, who was slowly gathering his things.

‘So… Shall we meet in the library in forty minutes? Just the time to grab our things and take a short break’ she asked and despite all, there was a note of uncertainty in her voice; nevermind that Severus had already told her that he would keep a free schedule to study with her. He briefly looked at her and nodded, looking almost sheepish; she smiled. She hadn’t seen him being like that in months and she liked it, it reminded her of the old Severus; her chest filled with hope.

‘Well, then, I’ll see you later’ she said happily, gathering her books and waving at him. Severus frowned and after a few seconds he tried to wave back at her, but he looked so awkward that Lily had to stifle a laugh.

She walked out of the class, her heart lighter than it had been in months; because Mary had been completely wrong about him. Severus wasn’t dangerous; in fact, at the moment, she thought he looked rather cute.

Chapter Text

Severus closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as he left the Potions classroom. He scowled as he recalled how moronic he must’ve looked… waiving at her like an imbecile… blushing because she’d called him brilliant. The realisation alone that he had been ruminating about said events for the past ten minutes caused his scowl to turn into a grimace. Merlin help him, he thought, running a hand over his eyes. The time travel must’ve seriously damaged his brain.

Firstly, there had been that sick rush of jealousy towards a teenage Potter, then a physical response he was too ashamed to recall and after that he had managed to make a complete fool out of himself. And she had laughed. Was this what it meant being in the body of a teenager again? He did not like it, but then again, he’d also loathed being a teenager the first time around. Still better than being a child, he thought bitterly, the idea of being once again at the mercy of his father and barely able to control magic causing his face to darken.

Lost in his thoughts, he was caught completely off guard when he heard the sound of laughter at his back. His hand darted to his wand as he whirled around to face his attacker. His heart gave a jolt; but it was too late.

‘Impedimenta!’

Severus’ eyes widened, the spell causing him to stagger ludicrously for a few steps, his trained reflexes the only thing preventing him from landing head first on the hard stone. He cursed under his breath, nearly tripping on the hem of his robes as he gathered his feet, the Marauder’s laughs ringing mercilessly in his ears. It was a horrible sound; indeed, the screeching of chalk against blackboard would’ve been more pleasant. That laughter brought back too many unpleasant memories.

An angry blush spread through his cheeks, his fingers twitching. Potter had always had the uncanny ability to bring the worst out of him, even now he could feel hatred and fear cursing through his mind. They’d always overpowered him, four on one. It did not matter that Severus was decades older now, the irrational fear that he’d be humiliated in such a fashion once more was turning out difficult to control. He took a deep breath, his wand feeling warm to the touch as he struggled to restrain himself. He would be in serious troubles if he cursed them.

He could only blame his love-sick teenage fantasies for having been caught off guard by a bunch on underage wizards.

‘Good one, Prongs!’ Black barked, grinning at his best mate as he stifled another laugh.

Severus’ eyes narrowed; he stared at Potter’s wand. He wouldn’t even need his own to disarm him… How easy it would be to curse both him and Black, they wouldn’t even see it coming. A nice little payback for all the years in which they had mercilessly tortured him. The curses, the public humiliations… the lake… Lily…

Potter had prodded him like one would prod a snake with a stick until Severus had finally lashed out. Hurt and furious, he had uttered those vicious words, scaring away the only person who’d ever been kind to him. It had stung, the look on Lily’s face as she’d realised exactly what kind of person he was. It’d hurt even more to know that he’d never intended to hurt her in any way, it had just been his nature. He had often wondered what would have happened had she not cut him off then.

He would’ve gotten her killed either way. He knew that had they stayed friends, the Dark Lord would have found twisted pleasure in asking a newly marked Severus to kill her for his sake.

No, it would have been unfair to blame Potter for uttering that word by the lake, but Severus had hated him anyway. He had hated him and did hate him for being everything he wasn’t. Rich, spoiled, handsome, adored by everyone and anyone and so unbelievably arrogant. He had hated even more the way Potter had always looked down on him, as though Severus was a disgusting creature unworthy to live. Potter had wanted Lily to see Severus just as he did; he had made his life mission to take away what little he’d had.

He’d thought she’d look at him differently if she no longer saw him being so pathetically weak. How foolish he had been. As though being a Death Eater could have ever impressed her… As though they could have ever lived together in the world the Dark Lord had been planning to build… Hopeless young men could be stupid creatures.

Severus closed his eyes, finally regaining some sense of composure. He stared at the boy, the similarities between father and son so uncanny that he found himself repressing a shudder.

‘Potter’, he spat, his lips curling around the world with practised ease, ‘how foolish of me to believe that, somewhere, a universe untouched by your sheer arrogance and stupidity could possibly exist’

The corners of the boy’s mouth turned downwards, his eyes; hazel, not green, alight with hatred. The son’s gaze had been harder to bear. His stomach had twisted in a knot every time he’d stared at her hate filled eyes. The sight alone had never failed to make him angry; he’d felt like he’d been staring at an abomination. It had been a feeling difficult to control.

Potter’s fingers tightened around his wand; his expression mocking. Potter wouldn’t have looked at him like that had he known who he was; Severus thought, sneering. Not even the son had dared looking at him like that.

‘Yeah, same goes for me, Snivellus, but unfortunately you’re still here’ he retorted.

Wormtail gave a shrilly laugh; Severus’ mouth visibly thinned. Potter wouldn’t have laughed had he known the future that awaited his friends. They had all died, even Pettigrew, who’d thought betraying his friends would keep him safe, as though the Dark Lord had hesitated to dispose of his so called most loyal servant when he’d no longer had had any use of him.

‘Indeed, I am, Potter. I suggest you get out of my sight before I decide to deliver you straight to the Headmaster. Magic is not allowed in the corridors, you know’ he drawled, his sneer getting more pronounced when, upon hearing his words, Wormtail stopped laughing at once.

Potter frowned.

‘You think I care? You’re the one who started it, Snape, you hexed our brooms!’ he exclaimed, taking a few steps towards him. He was about the same height as Severus, but with Severus being lanky and shamefully underweight now, the other’s athletic built put him physically to shame.

It was nothing new. Severus had had much bigger men trying to intimidate him over the years.

Only his father had caused him to cower in fear. But Severus had been little more than a child back then; few people would not have paled when faced with Tobias Snape, his build that of a mindless ogre. Severus had seen him for the last time after receiving the mark and it had been Tobias turn to be afraid, the look on Severus’ eyes sending cold shivers down the man’s spine. The eyes of a murderer…

Still, Potter’s accusation was so childish that Severus found himself raising an eyebrow, his lips twitching almost imperceptibly. The truth was that Potter was a child now and he, Severus, had the upper hand. There was nothing Potter could do to him. Too bad he wasn’t one of his students, or Severus would’ve had a field day confiscating said brooms.

Indeed, he’d been personally against giving Potter his Firebolt back. He could distinctly remember Minerva glaring at him when he’d voiced his concerns.

‘I did no such thing’ he said, unwilling to indulge in such childish matters, unwilling to remember if at the young age of sixteen he had indeed attempted to hex Potter’s broom.

‘Don’t play dumb with us, Snivellus, we know it was you!’ Black snarled, his fingers twitching for his own wand.

‘Do you have proof?’ he asked, unconcerned by the murderous look in their eyes. His gaze inevitably wandered to the boys’ backs, the Common room waiting for him at the end of that very corridor. Potter might’ve been amusing distraction, but he was still to retrieve his teenage-self’s essay and charm books.

Their meeting might’ve been of informal nature, but Severus loathed tardiness, even more so when Lily was concerned. He severely punished his student for it and, short of keeping the Dark Lord waiting, had never condoned it when it had come to himself.

It would be extremely rude of him to keep her waiting, especially when he had promised he would be there in due time; no matter how tedious the prospect of undergoing a useless fifth-year study session sounded to the sane part of his mind. She could’ve asked him to accompany her to a confetti shop and to his greatest shame, Severus would have probably said yes. He wondered what Dumbledore would’ve said had he been able to see him now. Some nonsense about the power of love, most likely.

Black and Potter looked at each other, profound dislike etched on every line of their young faces.

‘Proof? We don’t need proof, you greasy bast-’

‘Then move, Potter, contrary to you and Black I do not have unlimited leisure time to strut around the castle and do as I please, and neither does the person I am about to meet’

‘Who? Those filthy Dark Arts loving Slytherins you follow around, Snape? I wonder what kind of services you offer for them to stand your ugly face. They’ll be lucky if we send you back to them in one piece’ Black threatened.

Severus raised his eyebrows, the urge to provoke the boys suddenly impossible to resist.

‘Who said anything about Slytherins?’

Potter’s face whitened, the look in Severus’ eyes causing his arrogant smile to die at once.

‘E- Evans?’ he stuttered, shocked, ‘You can’t meet, Evans, she’s taken’ said Potter, looking quite flustered.

Severus snarled.

‘Taken? Lily is not a prize to be won’ he said, his tone causing Potter to flinch.

Black stared at him with a frown, glancing at his best friend.

‘Indeed, you should have known better than mindlessly suggest you would crush her own ingredients. Lily did not appreciate the unspoken implications, quite the contrary really. Perhaps, that is why she promptly expressed her wishes to study with me for the rest of the day, Potter. I’ll go as far as to say that I might have to thank you for it’ Severus said, a smile threatening to break through his lips when Potter’s face contorted in anger, Severus’ own pettiness causing him to sound not a day older than the boy in front of him.

‘You’re lying’ Potter said, looking at him both alarmed and worried.

Severus smiled, a part of him painfully aware how petty and immaturely he was being. He knew it was only a matter of time before Lily ran away with the boy, and married him and Potter would never allow his wife to see the likes of Severus Snape. The knew how Severus felt about Lily, how couldn’t he have known?

Provoking him would change nothing, but it made that future knowledge more bearable. Useless as he was, Potter had been willing to die for Lily. Severus was no marriage material. It did not matter what Dumbledore thought. As much as he loathed to admit it, Lily would be safer in Potter’s hand, for the boy was neither a reformed Death Eater, nor a man in love with a girl half his age. And Severus couldn’t help but grimace at that.

Potter clenched his teeth, his eyes glistening with rage and loathing.

‘You stay away from her, Snivellus!’ he hissed, his voice shaking with fear as angry sparks flew out of his wand.

He grounded his jaw, averting his eyes, trying to ignore the weight caused by his cursed knowledge. He looked at the boy, taking a deep breath, steading his unruly heartbeat as the anger finally left him.

‘Don’t be ridiculous Potter, I am not forcing her to spend time with me against her will’ he said briskly.

And yet, there was a note of bitterness in his voice, because, as a matter of speaking, that was exactly what he was doing.

Somehow, Potter must’ve suspected as much, because his face visibly paled. Severus wondered whether Potter genuinely cared about Lily at this age. Had she just been a prize to be won? Or had he been mystified by her refusal to fall at his feet like ninety percent of the female population? The boy was so spoiled that it was only natural he’d fall for the only thing he couldn’t have.

‘Yes, you are! You did something to her, Snivellus! You must’ve Confunded her or something!’ he said, his words followed by Wormtail’s quiet sniggers.

A mocking smile formed on Severus’ thin lips, because, despite all, he loathed Potter’s implications.

‘And tell me, Potter, has she been Confunded for seven years? I never thought there might come a day in which I’d realise I had underestimated your own idiocy… but here we are’

‘Y-you bastard… You won’t have her, Snivellus!’ he growled, his eyes burning with both hatred and hurt.

Severus smiled. Have her? He had almost forgotten why she had refused to talk to that imbecile until the second half of their sixth year.

‘She is not yours to have, Potter, nor mine for that matter. If she wishes to spend her time with me, then that is out of her own will’ he said, a heavy weight settling in his stomach.

Liar. Lily wouldn’t have wanted to spend time with him had she known. He didn’t have long, one or two years of lies and then… Severus grimaced, dreading how she’d look at him when she realised, she’d been spending her time with an ex-Death Eater in his late thirties.

Black’s gaze darted from Potter to him, his eyes glistening with a sick form of anticipation as Potter raised his wand, ready to curse him.

‘Go on, Prongs, do it’ Black urged him, his grin widening as Wormtail took a tentative step forward, the taller boys shielding his quivering figure.

Severus’ eyes bored into the hated hazel ones. He skimmed the surface of the boy’s thoughts with absurd ease, finding his mind no less transparent than his future son’s had been. His eyes bore into Black’s, finding his mind no better protected. Few Gryffindor were clever or subtle enough to bother with Occlumency.

‘Do it, James!’ Wormtail said, his eyes filled with anticipation.

‘I said-’

‘Oh, hello boys!’ boomed Slughorn.

Wormtail squeaked as Professor Slughorn walked out of the Potions classroom, a cheerful smile plastered on his face, a smile that slowly started to fade when his eyes took in the whole scene. He looked at them all, mildly alarmed.

‘Now, now, boys, there is no need to fight’ he said, shaking his head disapprovingly.

‘It’s Snape, Professor, we were just-’, Potter started, closing his mouth straight away when Slughorn cut across him.

‘Ah, yes, Severus!’ he said, delighted, ‘I was just looking for you. Your potion was extraordinary, I’ve never seen anything quite like it! Tell me, m’boy, was that your first brew?’ he trailed off, completely disregarding the three boys in front of him. Severus’ gaze drifted to the Marauders and then back on Slughorn.

The boys looked at him, murderously, Potter’s mouth hanging open in disbelief.

‘Hardly’ he answered, his voice delicately inflected with irony.

Slughorn clicked his tongue, waving a hand dismissively. If looks could kill, Potter’s would have done the trick.

‘Still, impressive. I know we already discussed careers prospects, so don’t look at me like that’ Slughorn said, raising a chubby finger and feigning a reproachful look.

Severus stiffened. He didn’t need to remember the conversation they had had to guess how much a sixteen-year-old boy enamoured with the Dark Lord’s promises must’ve been interested in Slughorn’s career advice. And indeed, Slughorn was suddenly staring at him as though he were a bomb ready to explode. How many of his students had ended up in the Dark Lord’s clutches?

‘I know that you told me you’re- well…’, he stopped for a moment, scratching his head and appearing for the first time slightly uncomfortable, ‘quite… interested in the Defence… Against the Dark Arts, that is, but I…’

Slughorn’s gaze drifted briefly to the three boys, then he looked at Severus, wiping his forehead and visibly anxious.

Severus did not like where the conversation was heading. He knew that had he been any other student, Slughorn would have simply started ignoring him after such statement; but the Potions Master had always been torn between his talent for Potions and the clear nature of his ambitions, which he had always done his utmost to forget. As of now, his last potion must’ve awakened those old feelings.

‘Severus…’ he began, eyeing Potter and Black and beckoning to follow him.

‘I really must insist that you consider Potions as a more suitable career, I mean… you are extraordinary talented and at such early age! I could put you in contact with the most skilful Potioneers of our time and-’

Severus resisted the urge to click his tongue in annoyance; but there were drops of sweat sliding down Slughorn’s temples; it would do him no good to have him thinking he was another Death Eater in the making and a dangerous one at that. Horace was far from stupid and a noticeable improvement in his skills would make him guarded and suspicious towards everything he did or say. Indeed, the last thing Severus needed was Slughorn breathing down his neck while he tried to thwart the Dark Lord and his followers.

‘I am considering it’ he conceded and Slughorn momentarily froze. The Professor blinked a few times, bewildered, his mouth slightly open.

‘Really?’ he said, his voice torn between hope and disbelief. There was a pause, during which his old Professor dared to look into his eyes, his brow furrowed as though he feared that were he to look for more than a few seconds he would detect the hint of a lie.

‘Yes’ Severus answered, his tone almost borderline on annoyance. After a few moments, a happy smile stretched onto Slughorn’s face, his round belly bouncing slightly as he gave an approving nod, looking visibly ecstatic and relieved.

‘Very well then! Do you have a general idea of what you would like to do? As I said I-’, he trailed off cheerfully.

Severus grimaced. He had no desire to indulge the Professor in a long and pointless conversation. He had been the school residing Potions Master for sixteen years; he could give himself career advice if he wished as much. And for as much as he currently lacked any connections, he had a war to focus on and currently more important matters to attend to.

‘If you would excuse me… Professor’, he said, ‘I am afraid this conversation will have to wait. I have an arrangement with my Potions partner and-’

Slughorn froze, his eyes bulging as he stared at him.

‘Lily? Lily Evans? Really?’ he paused, taking in his whole figure.

Severus stiffened, his lips twisting in displeasure, for the Professor looked positively thrilled.

‘But well done, m’boy, well done!’ boomed Slughorn, patting him on the back with such force that for a moment Severus felt his knees buckle under the man’s significant weight.

‘That’s wonderful! Both so young and both so talented!’ Slughorn continued, oblivious to the fact that at those last words Severus’ face had visibly whitened. Did he know?

Slughorn chuckled, waving a large hand dismissively, as though the fact was nothing more than old news. The colour did not return Severus’ face. Was it foolish of him to hope he must have mistaken Slughorn’s words? It must’ve been because the older wizard looked strangely proud, his knowing look leaving little space for misunderstandings.

To his horror, Severus felt himself blushing. But Slughorn did not stop there and when he chuckled again, looking fondly at him, Severus felt a new rush of hot blood creeping up his neck and ears.

‘Don’t try to deny it, m’boy, I can see that you like her’ he said cheerfully. Severus’ heart faltered, his jaw stiffening as his eyes narrowed with silent warning.

‘And who wouldn’t?! She’s such a lovely girl, and a very charming one too’ he continued, with a knowing look, oblivious to the fact that his student had seemingly turned to stone.

‘I…’ Severus began, closing his mouth right away.

Slughorn’s gaze which had been casted upwards, drifted back on him. He chuckled, giving him another affectionate pat on the back. Severus closed his eyes for a second. Had it not been for the redness of his face, he would have looked remarkably like a statue.

Slughorn knew, this wasn’t good; had he suspected Severus in his time?

It was a ridiculous thought, no one who had known him as an adult would have ever believed that a man like him could feel anything remotely close to love. And indeed, Dumbledore could’ve shared his deepest secret and be taken by a blabbering fool by both the Order and the Death Eaters alike. Severus had been cruel, taking pleasure in other people’s suffering, his sharp tongue more than enough to quench any ideas people might have had of getting to know him better.

It had never worked on Dumbledore, of course; his barbed tongue had always been met by a look of deep sadness in the other man’s eyes; sometimes, it had been enough to make Severus ashamed of himself. Contrary to popular belief, Dumbledore had never been a fool. Those blue eyes had always left him with the feeling of being able to look straight into his soul, never mind how much he’d Occluded.

‘Now, now, there is no need to be embarrassed’ Slughorn said wholeheartedly, looking affectionately at him and earning himself a barely concealed sneer, ‘your secret is safe with me. Go on, then, you mustn’t keep her waiting’ he finished with a broad smile and a wink, his hands resting on his waistcoat pockets.

Severus grimaced, nodding slightly before he turned his back to the prying Professor, fearing how many more people now knew what, for the last two decades, had been his most guarded secret.

The Library was strangely quiet; the afternoon light coming from the tall windows strong enough to hurt his tired eyes. Judging by the inane chatter he’d been subjected to during meal time, Severus had learned that the weather had been cold and damp for most of the year. He could not remember the current year being any different to the ones that had followed, but then again, Severus had rarely taken notice or cared about the weather.

The days were incredibly short during the winter and far too long during the Summer, with the Highlands often swept by strong showers and bone chilling winds; and yet, over the years Severus had become fond of Scotland and of its peace and quiet. His visits to London had become all the more unpleasant; not that he had ever been fond of crowds in the first place.

Severus took in a deep breath, his nose picking up the familiar scent of books and old leather. He’d had plenty of books in his quarters, but it had been a long time since he’d perused those shelves without fear of being attacked by both staff and students; the narrow space between each shelf offering scarce visibility. Twice they’d attempted to poison him and during his first months as Headmaster he’d often been subject to a range of spell that went from more or less harmless prank to curses.

Dumbledore’s murderer had been written outside his office with paint the same colour as blood. He’d been white with fury, his anger hiding the fact that the sight had made him sick to his stomach, his hands shaking when he’d vanished it. He knew that the Staff had turned a blind eye when they’d come across such behaviour. He’d often wondered if the poison had come from Sinistra.

Severus rubbed his weary eyes, the adrenaline rushing quickly into his veins upon spotting Flitwick and Minerva. Still, he had nothing to fear from the staff, not now and most certainly not in this wretched time. His lips thinned, his mouth feeling as though he’d just swallowed something bitter.

They looked at him briefly before going back to their conversation. His first reaction was to stiffen, a part of his mind still wandering under the delusion that they might be talking about him and the Carrows; but they were both smiling, their faces still untouched by the war, by a whole year spent protecting the students from the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters.

Severus forced his eyes away, his stomach churning. It was a strange thought to realise that they were yet to hate him. Indeed, a part of him felt compelled to join them. His jaw tightened as his eyes rested on his knobbly knees. He blinked, almost startled.

Of course, that would have certainly gone well. He could just imagine how they would have looked at him had he not be presented with a visual reminder of his current… condition. They would’ve looked at each other, rather confused and then, after a short pause, Flitwick would have asked whether he had some questions in regard to his assignments.

Severus bristled, because that was exactly what he was doing, completing rudimentary assignments. After having been a teacher for sixteen years and, albeit unwillingly, the school’s Headmaster, having being stripped of all his privileges was nothing short of humiliating. Of course, even more embarrassing was the fact that Severus was currently pretending to study a fifth-year textbook. The only reason being that Lily had asked that of him and that she was very much alive and real, the mere sight of her twisting his insides with guilt and... relief.

Severus flinched when his gaze drifted to the young redhead girl beside him; after a while his eyes softened ever so slightly.

She was checking her essay, her expression one of deep concentration, her chest rising and falling with each slow breath. He felt… calmer in her presence, the anger in regard to his current predicament slowly melting away. It was enough to quench the otherwise tediousness of having an already written essay in front of him. Lily, not wanting to be influenced by his findings, had asked him the courtesy of waiting for her to finish before discussing what they had written.

She had scowled at Severus for not mentioning he had already finished his essay on the previous day; not that Severus, or at least the current Severus, could even remember when he must’ve finished it. He looked at the books at her side, the tomes she had picked for her research were all N.E.W.T level; Flitwick had often encouraged his students to try themselves with difficult readings and never shy away from knowledge regardless of the form it took.

A guide to Non-verbal Advanced Casting by Eulalie Hicks. Severus’ lips twitched. Lily had always been fond of her work. An intelligent and witty academic that had fought in a war, opposing Grindelwald’s hateful ideology. Severus tried not to dwell on the thought. He’d read the book, of course. Lily had been surprised when he’d admitted as much when she’d asked him if he wanted to read it. Of course, Severus hadn’t mentioned that he’d read it in his seventh year.

His eyes fell on the entrance of the Restricted Section, free access to those books had been one of the perks of being a Professor and the reason why so many academics inevitably gravitated towards Hogwarts. The oldest magical library in the Old Continent, personally built by Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin after many years of travel and filled with volumes covering the entirety of wizarding history.

The Dark Lord had studied some of those books, books that for that due to their dark nature, Hogwarts’ current Headmaster had deemed appropriate to remove. It was common knowledge amongst the staff that Dumbledore kept those forbidden books hidden in his office. Indeed, it wasn’t the sort of reading material Dumbledore would have taken pleasure in knowing Severus was reading; but Severus could not help but wonder just how many books the Headmaster had removed before the start of his teaching career.

He had never lost his fascination with the Dark Arts. It was a morbid interest; his year as a DADA Professor had been as close as he’d ever gotten to enjoy teaching. More importantly, Dumbledore had trusted him with teaching the subject and Severus had stubbornly proven to him that his fascination had not been not enough to forget a life stricken with guilt.

As of now, Severus was looking forward to some new and questionable reading material. He wasn’t a child. The prospect that he might get caught or that madam Pince’s spells would keep him away was ludicrous of course. Merlin knew, the woman had never failed to eye him distrustfully. Severus had often wondered if she’d known what he was.

All of a sudden, he felt a light touch on his shoulder. He flinched, his eyes snapping back on Lily’s.

‘Sev? Are you alright? Don’t tell me you already checked both essays’ she said, giving him a nervous smile, her eyes betraying a hint of worry as they moved between the Restricted Section and him.

Severus stiffened; it was all too clear that she hadn’t liked the look on his face. Lily had abhorred Dark Magic. She had always been afraid it would end up corrupting him, unable to understand how anyone could be so passionate about something so twisted and evil.

Admittedly, with the benefit of hindsight, she had had more than a few reasons to fear his love for the Dark Arts. It was one of the reasons that had drawn him to the Death Eaters. Dark magic and the promise of power; amongst other things of course. But he was no longer a boy. What in his youth had been a morbid obsession, at this point in life, was a healthy and purely intellectual fascination, or so Severus liked to tell himself.

He’d used his knowledge to save both his and his allies over the years and he had rarely used it at all. That being said, Lily’s blood would have probably curdled had she known just how much of an expert Severus now was in the subject.

‘May I?’ she asked after a while, gesturing to the assignment his younger-self had completed.

She was still uncomfortable, staring at him as though she feared he might suddenly head straight to the Restricted Section. He glanced sideways at her, staring at her outstretched hand with sudden wariness. Perhaps his time would have been better spent proofreading his essay; even though a quick look at it had told him that it had not been poorly written.

A small crease appeared between Severus’ eyebrow. With a grim look, he saw himself handing her two separate pieces of parchment and being handed her newly written essay in turn. He flinched once again when their fingers brushed.

He had considered rewriting it. Lily had always been more intuitive when it came to Charms, sharing an insatiable thirst for knowledge and spell design. To this day, he was still reluctant to admit that, while Charms had most certainly been one of his strongest subjects, he wouldn’t have reached such mastery of it had he not forced himself to spend countless hours studying it, so that the more naturally gifted Lily would not think him unintelligent. He suspected she’d done very much the same when it had come to Potions; the memory caused a weary twitch of his lips.

Severus looked critically at the notes that had been accompanying his essay; four sheets, written in a small and cramped writing, each letter long and spidery. A writing unmistakably his and yet slightly different. His lips twitched in displeasure when he realised what had picked up his teenage-self’s interest. Two whole pages that thoroughly examined whether or not the Silencing Charm could be turned into a curse.

Severus couldn’t help but feeling as though he had been caught red-handed. It was a peculiar thought. He had nearly forgotten his attempts to make both Charms and Transfiguration more… appealing in his youth. His eyes focused on Lily once more. He moved the incriminating pieces of parchments away from her, feeling a pang of guilt.

He knew she would not have been impressed by the nature of his research. He could hardly see her being pleased with her best friend’s intention to transform her favourites spells in Dark Magic. He grimaced, vanishing the incriminating with a wordless Evanesco.

He rubbed his eyes, making a mental note to thoroughly check all his books for their next… studying session; for Severus had shamefully agreed to meet her there, thrice a week. His lips thinned, this time out of hopelessness and embarrassment.

He pressed his back against the back of his chair, staring at the students surrounding him, a group of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws thoroughly going through their own studying plan. Indeed, his logical mind was still struggling to believe that he had willingly consented to spend his future evenings studying for an exam that he could have passed that very day with his eyes closed. If Dumbledore could have seen him now, he would have regarded him with one of those infuriating smiles. He was struggling to recognise himself; Lily had always had that power on him.

Was he really that desperate? He looked at the list of homework she had created for them both, feeling suddenly idiotic; because, apparently yes, he really was that desperate.

He sighed.

Five minutes later, Lily returned his assignment. Severus averted his eyes, his stomach lurching when her lips stretched in a beautiful smile. His heart seemed to swell in his chest, his forehead set in a scowl.

Good Merlin, he was pathetic, he thought; his heart fluttering just because she had smiled.

‘I doubt you’re going to get anything less than an O’ Lily said, smiling brightly at him.

‘Indeed’ he said flatly, the forced smile on his lips menacing to turn into a grimace.

Lily stared at him, tilting her head, her bright green tinged with a hint of worry.

‘You’ve been really quiet today’ she said after a while, her eyes lingering on his face long enough that Severus almost slouched under her gaze.

She had thought he looked ill; he wondered if he looked as tired as he felt. Regardless, he could not remember ever being particularly talkative, not even as a teen. His forehead crinkled, but when he tried to open his mouth to reply, Lily shook her head.

‘I didn’t mean it as a bad thing’, she added quickly, giving him a reassuring smile, ‘it’s just… we spent a nice day you and me, didn’t we?’ she said, a note of sadness in her voice.

Lily shifted on her seat, looking a bit uncomfortable when Severus did not reply. She stared at him. She gulped when she realised he was staring at her too. For a split second she had once again the impression that there was something different in his eyes. Her gaze drifted to the Restricted section; it was undeniable that he had been staring at it for at least twenty minutes. She could only hope he wasn’t planning anything bad.

She knew he was still furious about Potter’s latest prank. He hadn’t been the same since Potter had saved him from whatever was lurking in the Whomping Willow. He hadn’t told her anything more than that Potter had tricked him and that he had only done it to save his neck and his friends’ too. She had gotten the impression that something more must’ve happened, judging by the seriousness of Potter and Lupin’s expressions.

Marlene had told her that Potter had risked his own life to save him, the only reason why Severus had been in danger in the first place being that he had been out after curfew, trying to get them expelled. Lily rubbed her eyes; she looked at him again and for a second she thought she saw a flicker of pain in his eyes.

Severus had never been an easy person to read. He was socially awkward, guarded and hated showing any sign of weakness or anything that could be used against him. It was easy for him to assume the worst in people. Lily sometimes wondered what would have happened if they hadn’t met when they’d been children. Would she have thought him horrible like they all did?

Things had been easier before Hogwarts. Did he still care about her, like he used to when they were children? She could see him stiffen every time he saw her whilst in the company of his Slytherin friends. He usually averted his eyes, looking at her as though she was little more than a stranger and it… hurt. She often wondered why he had lie to her and say that being a Muggleborn didn’t make a difference.

She could distinctly remember Severus’ mother looking at her as though she were a piece of dirt. She shuddered. Muggleborns were not well liked in Slytherin, but then again, she’d seen how they treated Severus for being a Half-blood. How could he spend his time with such loathsome people? How could he allow them to treat him as though he was less of them?

It made her blood boil. They were a bunch of cruel bullies; it was no secrets what they were aiming to be and Severus… why would he be willing to endure a similar treatment if he wasn’t heading the same way? Why couldn’t he see that everything they stood for was wrong? How could he think it would be a good idea to follow such a madman?

Lily shuddered. A part of her kept insisting that even if he did become a Dark Wizard he would never turn into a horrible monster, but the truth was that she’d seen the dark look in his eyes when had Mulciber pulled up one of his sick jokes. Merlin knew, she couldn’t even think about Severus becoming a Death Eater without feeling physically ill.

She fixed her eyes on him, taking a deep breath and feeling suddenly anxious.

‘I don’t want us to drift apart, Sev’, she started, taking a shaky breath, ‘I’m glad we could study together today, but the truth is that we… we barely even talk anymore and things are getting worse’ she finished, a heavy weight settling in her stomach as she glanced sideways at him.

There, she had said it. She waited for him to deny the truthfulness of her words, to say that with the upcoming O.W.L.s they barely had time to talk to each other anymore, but he didn’t. Lily blinked, because contrary to all her predictions, far from ignoring her or looking angry, he looked… pained.

‘I don’t want us to drift apart either, Lily’ he said, looking at her straight in the eyes. She shook her head, the look in those previously emotionless eyes causing her head to spin. He, this… If he didn’t want to, then why would he…

‘But… Sev…’ she started, shifting uncomfortably, her mind going one hundred miles an hour. For had she really been reading the signs all wrong?

She stopped for a moment, opening her mouth a few times before she finally found the strength to voice her thoughts.

‘You looked so ill yesterday that it felt wrong to bring it up, but…but you forgot about our meeting and obviously I’m not angry with you because of that, but... I thought that maybe you just didn’t want to spend the evening with me, that you thought it wasn’t important… but now you are here and this morning you have been very nice, risking to disregard your own potion to help me and all’ she breathed, a small crease forming between her eyebrows as she shot him a cautious look.

Severus’ lips parted and Lily’s heart sank. He really had forgot about it, hadn’t he? She waited a few seconds, but before she could say anything, he sighed, looking suddenly tired.

‘I…’, he started, shamefully averting his eyes, his guilt causing her to regret ever voicing her thoughts. Severus shook his head.

‘Think nothing of it. I should have apologised earlier, that was unacceptable, I did not realise we had an arrangement. That being said, I… I will assure you that I most certainly do not deem our meetings unimportant’ he said gravely, his eyes meeting hers.

His answer was so weird and formal that Lily couldn’t help but blink a few times. He… he did not…

‘You do not deem our meetings unimportant?’ she slowly repeated, her mouth slowly twisting in a grimace.

She eyed him uneasily. He was being weird and overly formal. Now that she came to think of it, he had been talking like that both that morning and the day before. She had thought he was just trying to be funny but… he sounded so much like one of those stuck-up purebloods that she couldn’t help but shudder at the implications.

Alas, oblivious to her state of mind, Severus merely nodded, looking as though he hadn’t even realised he had said something peculiar.

‘Precisely. Can you forgive me?’ he said, looking warily at her. It felt as though he was trying to look right through her and Lily noticed that his body was strangely tense, his brow furrowed as though he feared she might suddenly get angry.

She stared at him, utterly confused, unsure whether she was more disturbed by his formal apology or odd demeanour. He couldn’t be thinking she wouldn’t forgive him for such a thing, could he?

‘Of course, I forgive you, Sev, it’s not that… I just…. At the time I thought you might’ve decided to meet up with your Slytherin friends instead’ she said sheepishly, because truth be told, she doubted Severus must’ve had much social interactions on that day.

There was still a note of apprehension in her voice though, because wasn’t that exactly what she’d feared? He was spending more and more time with Mulciber and his crowd, seemingly unconcerned by their sadistic streak, doing nothing to stop their harassment and… Severus looked at her, his lips parting in confusion.

His jaw stiffened.

‘My Slytherin… friends?’ he repeated, his lips curling in a sneer; that new expression, added with the haughty look on his face, causing Lily to shiver.

He looked at her as though she had just insulted him. As though she had just suggested something absurd; as though she’d been imagining things for the past year. She forced herself to take a deep breath, forcing herself to remain calm.

‘Yes, Severus, your Slytherin friends! Quite frankly you’re spending an awful lot of time with Avery and Mulciber and I’m worried about you, they’re evil, can’t you see it? They can’t wait to join You-Know-Who and Mulciber is dangerous, Sev, you know he is’ she said pleadingly.

Severus looked at her and whilst he was not laughing, his lips twitched almost imperceptibly at her last words, as though the notion that Mulciber could be dangerous was amusing to him. Lily flinched. She didn’t like that look in his eyes, she didn’t like it at all. It was almost as though he knew something she didn’t. As though, as Mary and Marlene said, he could be just as dangerous. She shuddered, deeply disturbed by that thought.

‘I refuse to be threatened by Mulciber; him and Avery are two pathetic little boys unworthy of my time. I can assure you, Lily, that I do not plan on associating myself with such people any further’ he said sneered.

Lily’s jaw slackened. She stared at him, wide-eyed and dumbfounded, too shocked to say anything.

What the fuck?

Her head was spinning. She looked at her best friend as though he had gone temporarily insane, for she couldn’t have heard correctly, he couldn’t have just told her what she thought he had. She had seen him hanging out with those horrible boys not longer than three days before, tailing quietly after Lestrange and Mulciber.

He couldn’t have possibly changed his mind, not so quickly. He had never listened to anything she’d said about his questionable friendships, why would he…

Oh…

Lily’s eyes narrowed, for he couldn’t seriously think she was that stupid. Her lips quivered, her green eyes shining with barely repressed tears. And to think that she had almost fallen for it. She was an idiot, so desperate to believe him that she hadn’t even noticed he had slowly told her exactly what she’d wanted to hear. Lily wondered how she could’ve let herself being manipulated so easily; the thought that Severus would lie to her like that…

She looked at him disdainfully, feeling angry and betrayed.

‘Of course, you don’t’ she said, hurt, glaring at him as she got up. Severus blinked, looking at her with the utmost confusion.

Oh, he was good, she could give him that.

‘Lily, I don’t-’

He stood up, but it was too late. Lily shoved her notes and books inside her bag, swinging it on her shoulder. She looked at him with distrust, her eyes prickling with tears.

‘I just wish you stopped lying to me’

Severus was still standing where Lily had left him, his frustration deepening by the minute. He looked down at his essay, feeling both disheartened and foolish.

He had been a spy time for seventeen years, he had lied to the most powerful wizard of their times and died without him being any the wiser and now? There was irony in his situation, of course. For of all the lies he had told in his life and his devoted servant act, it was humiliating to know that he was incapable of impersonating himself.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his large nose. Perhaps, the problem lay in the fact that he did not want to remember the boy he had been. Perhaps he did not want to be the boy who’d betrayed her, the boy who’d uttered that word. Severus had wanted to forget that even a few months prior to the accident by the lake their friendship had been a very fragile thing.

He had forgotten that she had long since stopped trusting him, that she had long since started considering ending their friendship. He grimaced. Was it really surprising that she would not believe him? Severus had given her no reason to trust him; of course, she would call him a liar.

She wasn’t stupid, which was also one of the reasons why Severus liked her; she had always been much more than a beautiful girl. She was also nothing like him; she’d always had a way with people, he’d often thought she would’ve been a force to be reckoned with had she gone through the trouble of learning Legilimency.

Those green eyes had always been able to look straight into his soul. Had he really expected she would believe he had had a sudden and complete change of heart? In Severus’ own experience people hardly changed so drastically and a part of him had had to die for him to be reborn. He’d had to sink to the depths of Hell before he could realise the magnitude of his sins. Nothing would have swayed him from his path, only her and it had taken her death by his hand.

It was with a hint of discomfort that Severus realised that Lily had been ready to cry. He had never cared for tears; he had found emotional displays unwelcome and downright amusing when they’d come from his students. Life was cruel and unfair. That was a lesson that needed to be learnt sooner rather than later. Eleven years old ought to be old enough to understand that. Severus certainly had.

Not that Lily would have agreed with Severus on the matter, neither as a teenager nor as a grown woman. The irony of the whole situation was not lost to him. Life might have been cruel, but there were some things that could be helped. Would she think him a cruel man if she knew how he treated others?

If there had been something he had despised more than students’ tears, that had been other people’s happiness. Nymphadora running away with Lupin, as though there could have ever been a future for them; getting herself pregnant in the middle of a war. Bellatrix had found great joy in describing what she’d do to her newly born nephew were she to get her hands on him. Lupin should have known better.

Severus had enjoyed making others as miserable as he was, it’d made things easier. Not that such comfort had ever been long lived; indeed, he rarely ended up feeling any better. If Lily could have seen Severus in those moments, she would have been disgusted by his behaviour. Indeed, there had been moments in which he himself had been downright disgusted.

But he could have never been like her. Lily had never struggled to do the right thing; it hadn’t been in her nature to be cruel. There was irony in the fact that she’d ended up caring for people like Severus and her sister. Petunia had been family of course, but she’d shared Severus’ gift in making other people miserable.

Only once Lily had actively tried to hurt him. Her voice shaking as she’d uttered Potter’s hateful nickname, as though she could barely bring herself to say it. Never mind that in his humiliation Severus had so easily betrayed her. Indeed, she’d not said much to him at all after that day, their following interactions having Lily stare at Severus as though he’d been a trusted animal that had suddenly turned savage. As though she couldn’t quite understand when or why that’d happened.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, gathering his things with a flick of his wrist, his tattered bag looking as though it might rip at any moment, the spells keeping it together unable to do much at this point. And rip it did, his hand barely catching a book before he could land on the floor. He glared at a Ravenclaw boy when he heard him snicker.

Children, he thought with annoyance, his skin prickling as he cast another reinforcing charm. A temporary fix. Merlin, he had always suspected that the bag had been his mother’s. She hadn’t as much as batted an eye when Severus had complained about the charms not keeping it together for more than a few weeks; her indifference causing an ugly blush to spread to his cheeks. Even at that point he had told himself that he should have known she would not care.

One thing for sure, he had never been spoiled. He was still feeling on edge as he left the corridor; telling himself he couldn’t leave her wandering the castle in such a state, it wasn’t safe. Severus might have been a liar, but he hadn’t lied to Lily in regard to Avery and Mulciber; he had no desire whatsoever to join the Dark Lord’s ranks and cause her death. Indeed, he would rather die.

He could not offer her much, but no good would come from having Lily believe he still wanted to join the Death Eaters. The future might have been uncertain, but Severus could at least spare her that much. She’d have enough things to worry about without fearing Severus might end up selling both Lily and her family to the Dark Lord.

If they were still to drift apart, it wouldn’t be because of that; it would be when it’ll be safe to tell her that he had been everything she’d fear and more. After all, even the ones who had been aware Severus was not a loyal Death Eater had never thought Severus was a good person; he’d never be worthy of someone like her.

Severus gulped. Until then… he would keep her safe. He had spent so much time lying that he wasn’t even sure he knew who he was anymore, but Lily was the only thing that mattered in this world where he didn’t really belong.

Severus looked around, checking the deserted corridor; then he closed his eyes.

‘Expecto Patronum’ he whispered and then a silver doe erupted from his wand, its light faintly reflecting on a nearby window.

It bowed its head, standing in front of him as it patiently waited for instructions.

Severus averted his eyes, ashamed. He had always thought curious how a creature made of happiness and light could bring him nothing but anguish.

The silver doe stepped closer, sniffing his hand. His fingers contracted as he stared at it, fearing that upon the smallest contact, it would disappear; fearing that, somehow, his smallest touch alone would taint that beautiful creature, ruining it forever.

‘Find Lily’ he said, casting a quick Disillusionment Charm as the silver doe nodded.

Chapter Text

Lily wiped the tears away from her face, her chin resting on her bent knees. She glanced up at the tall window beside her; dust and spider webs covered its stone sill, their presence suggesting that her hideout hadn’t served as a proper classroom in years. She wrapped her arms around her torso, her cold hands failing miserably in bringing her the comfort she needed.

Would her girlfriends ask her what had happened were she to return to Gryffindor Tower? Could she hope in anything different then a “I told you so”? Cold and lonely, Lily felt as though she would’ve likely welcomed anyone’s hug, regardless of what they said. She chewed nervously on her bottom lip, her eyes quickly falling on the stone floor beneath her feet as her friends’ nasty words echoed in her mind.

How many times had they told her that he was evil, that he could not be trusted? She shuddered, a part of her still stubbornly refusing to acknowledge that they might have had a point. And what if they had been right? As far as she knew, he could’ve taken the mark that very weekend, she considered, her face visibly whitening at the thought.

Lily averted her gaze, her eyes falling on the broken furniture around her; she briefly wondered why no one seemed to have fixed that mess. She stared at the countless books on the floor, desperate for some form of distraction. Alas, it wasn’t long before her thoughts wandered once again to her best friend. Could he really have become one of them? A Death Eater?

She shuddered again, the mere thought making her feel slightly queasy. She knew she was being irrational, her fear causing her to jump to the worst conclusions, but she couldn’t help thinking that there was something off about him. Whether it was the result of You-Know-Who’s mark poisoning his mind or the obvious lack of sleep, she did not know, but she couldn’t help but fear the worst.

It was undeniable that something had changed. When had he become such a good liar? His voice had remained calm and soothing as he had slowly gotten under her skin, taking advantage of her willingness to believe him. And the worst thing was that for a moment he had managed to fool her, desperate as she was to believe that it wasn’t too late for him to see sense.

Lily shifted on the floor uneasily when she remembered his polite words and formal demeanour. That would’ve been a nice change for a boy prone to quick outburst of anger and hurtful remarks, but that wasn’t like him. It was one thing to try to improve one’s manners, but Severus was behaving nothing like the boy she knew. Severus wasn’t calm and he most certainly wasn’t cold and collected.

He was fiery and stubborn; very much like her, and she both liked and hated him for it. They could argue about the stupidest things… she thought with a sad smile. Severus could have a nasty temper, but Lily would’ve much preferred being in the middle of one of his spiteful outbursts than have his eyes look, more often than not, strangely cold and… empty. She gulped, hugging her knees a little tighter.

“… I thought we were supposed to be friends. Best friends?”

Lily’s lips quivered as tears started to run down her cheeks. They said that hope springs eternal, but Lily was struggling to believe that things could ever go back to how they used to be. Were they even friends at this point? Sometimes she had the impression that everything left between them were past moments and long-lost memories, and yet… she still cared.

Their friendship was doing nothing but hurt her and yet she couldn’t find the necessary strength to end it. She thought of what had happened to Mary. She thought about what the other Slytherins punctually did to the Muggle-borns whenever a professor wasn’t looking. She thought of what he would do to the Muggle-borns once he got out of school and her heart constricted in pain, fear and disappointment weighting upon her chest.

What sort of person would be willing to stay friends with someone like that? What sort of person would willingly ignore his awful plan of joining You-Know-Who for fear of losing a best friend? What did her persistence in continuing said friendship say about her? Mary had called her a hypocrite and she had been right. She knew what Death Eater did and still she kept telling herself that Severus didn’t truly believe in any of that.

After all, he had been the one telling her that being a Muggleborn did not make any difference, hadn’t he? How could he then believe in any of that? He had changed so much, he wasn’t that boy anymore, but he also wasn’t one of them. He was yet to believe her unworthy of magic, unworthy to live in the magical world. No, Sev wasn’t really evil, not yet, anyway.

Lily sighed, rubbing her temples and knowing full well that she was, once again, making excuses.

Stupid Severus and stupid Lily who kept fooling herself into thinking that eventually she would manage to change him. She wiped the tears from her eyes, her heart skipping a beat when a bright silver light appeared before her eyes. She stiffened.

The tears in her eyes made it difficult for her to see, but before she could give herself to panic, a soothing sense of peace permeated the deserted room, and her heart instantly felt much warmer and lighter. She blinked, her heart thumping madly in her chest when the light seemed to move closer. It wasn’t until her eyes adjusted to the blinding light that Lily found herself staring at a beautiful doe. She gazed at it, blinking away the tears.

The beautiful creature bowed its head, its delicate hooves making no sound as it approached her. Fearing she might frighten it, Lily froze where she stood, barely breathing as the light coming from the mysterious creature creeped up the tall walls, casting the shadows away from her face. The doe paused for a moment, turning towards the door before it looked back at her, its beautiful head with its long-lashed eyes held high. It stepped closer and when it finally came to a halt, it was so close that had Lily stretched her hand she could have touched it.

She stared at it in wonder, without even noticing that she had once again started to cry. There was something about that doe that she couldn’t explain. She looked into the creature’s eyes and all of a sudden, she felt as though she was staring into someone else’s soul, something too private to be stared at lightly. But despite everything, she found herself unable to look away. There was something painfully familiar about it. She stared at those bright eyes, feeling a mixture of love, longing and an unfathomable guilt and sadness. Her heart constricted in pain, tears running down her eyes, for never, in her whole life she had seen something so sad and beautiful at the same time.

Lily startled when doe took a step back, frightened by the hand she had unconsciously raised.

‘Please, don’t go’ she breathed, her voice hoarse and shaking from the lack of use. She couldn’t explain why, but she didn’t want it to go.

She didn’t know what the creature was, but she knew that it would never harm her, for something so sad and beautiful could not be the product of Dark Magic. Her lips stretched in a faint smile, the light coming from the doe casting away any fear and sadness in her heart, protecting her from the darkness as she slowly stretched her hand towards it.

Severus pressed his back against the wall, holding his breath as Lily moved closer to his Patronus. He stared at the sadness in her eyes, the small smile resting on her lips doing nothing to erase the memory of her tearful eyes.

‘Hello, there’ she said, as the doe nuzzled her hand, causing Severus to grow more uncomfortable, his heartbeat increasing. He averted his eyes, black strands of hair obscuring his face as he forced himself to look away from her. He wasn’t a nine-year-old boy anymore, he really shouldn’t be spying on her. He had ascertained she was safe; he ought to leave.

His eyes wandered with shame to his bright Patronus, feeling strangely queasy when her hand found the creature’s snout. He flinched away, pressing his back harder against the cold wall, his heart beating with something akin to fear. Lily smiled, oblivious to his presence as her fingers caressed the doe’s pretty snout. He shrunk as though attempting to make himself smaller; pathetic as it was, he felt as though she was touching a part of his soul.

Another shiver ran down the length of his spine when she touched the doe once again. He hadn’t… thought about the connection he shared with the creature when he had encouraged it to approach her. In fact, he hadn’t thought much of anything when he had followed it to that deserted room, disillusioning his body and staring at the girl he still loved. Severus grimaced, his eyes falling on his black wand.

In the absence of any obvious threat, it required a tremendous amount of skill to keep a Patronus from disappearing after mere minutes. It was more than enough time to show the difficult charm to friends and examiners, but it had been easier to let people assume he’d been too much of a Dark Wizard to be able to cast it. No one would’ve question him. Only Dumbledore knew, but far from frequently using the spell to communicate with the man, Severus was ashamed to admit that he’d been casting the spell for nothing but his own comfort.

Moments of weakness to cast away the loneliness and bring himself both pain and undeserving comfort. A private form of torture.

Severus grimaced, her obvious relief the only thing preventing him from leaving the room at once. He sighed, unsure whether he felt a prevalence of joy or uneasiness when Lily ran her hand down the doe’s neck.

‘You’re very pretty, you know?’ she said and Severus felt himself flush.

He scowled, his mind flooding with one hundred different swearwords.

What an utter imbecile… He thought, his cheeks burning, for she certainly would have never called Severus pretty. He closed his eyes, mortified at the thought of Lily delicate hand caressing his ugly face instead. Yes, Lily would have been delighted to touch his ugly snout, his oily skin and greasy hair more likely to be deemed pitiful and disgusting. Indeed, Severus couldn’t even remember being touched by a woman in a different way; he thought with shame.

Sensing his growing discomfort, the silver creature turned its head towards him and flickered; its light growing weaker. Severus held his breath as the doe disappeared, its absence leaving the gloomy chamber dark and empty. He saw Lily stiffen as she got to her feet, the hand holding her wand trembling slightly as she perused the shadows.

‘Hello?’ she said, her voice trembling slightly. Severus did not move, watching her as she wiped the tears away from her eyes, that quick gesture failing to hide the fact that only a few minutes before she had been crying.

‘I know you’re there’ she continued, staring just where the doe had looked before disappearing. ‘I’m a Prefect and it’s almost past curfew, you can’t stay here, go away’ she said fiercely, her fingers tightening on her wand.

The corner of Severus’ lips twitched upwards, forming the faint outline of a wan smile. Whereas most people would have been frightened, Lily was already ready to fight. She had always been strong and good hearted, something that he had always admired. But it had also been something that had cost her her life, her unborn sense of justice a dangerous quality to possess in these dark times. Severus felt himself grimace, guilt settling in his chest as he realised that apart from making her cry, he was now the source of her anxiety.

‘It is I, Lily’ Severus said, watching her face visibly whiten when he stepped out of the shadows.

‘S- Severus…’ she breathed, the wariness in her eyes suggesting that she trusted him no longer.

His expression darkened as she stiffened. It had taken him years to realise that it hadn’t been that foul word the reason why she had cut him out of her life. No, that had only been the last straw. Even now it had taken him two entire days to realise just how strained and fragile their friendship had been.

“I never meant to call you Mudblood, it just-”

“Slipped out? It’s too late, I’ve made excuses for you for years. None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you. You and your precious Death Eater friends- you see, you don’t even deny it! You don’t even deny that’s what you’re all aiming to be!”

“I can’t pretend anymore”, that was one of the last things she’d told him, but it was only much later that he had realised the full implications of those words.

‘I apologise, I did not mean to frighten you. I was wondering if we could talk’ he breathed, his mouth suddenly dry, for deep down he knew she already believed what she’d told him that day, that he had already chosen his way.

His face paled. Was it already too late?

‘S- Severus? W-what- what are you doing here? I… how did you…’, she bit her lower lip, a pained grimace taking hold of features. Her eyes darted to their surroundings.

‘How long have you been here? You…’ she gulped, looking at him with a grimace, ‘why didn’t you…’

Severus’ lips thinned, the fearful distrust in her eyes making him squirm with discomfort. He found himself unable to look at her any longer, his young appearance the only thing saving him from feeling even more like a creep. For she was right, despite his initial intention to reassure himself of her safety, he shouldn’t have been staring at her without her knowledge. He wetted his lips, feeling very much like the nervous nine-year-old boy he’d been when he’d first met her.

‘I… I wished to apologise for what happened earlier. I… I did not mean to upset you’ he managed to say after a while.

Lily pocketed her wand, torn between disbelief and wariness. He looked so uncomfortable that she couldn’t find the heart to comment on the wrongness of what he had been doing, not when he seemed to have just realised that lurking in the shadows to stare at a crying friend was not something a normal person would do. It was almost painful how much he reminded her of the awkward boy she’d first met in the playground.

Lily looked at him with something akin to pity. Had he witnessed her crying? She wanted to ask him if he too had seen the doe, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She was tempted to ignore once more everything that had happened, his shame telling her that he was yet to become truly evil.

She stared at his haggard face, his downcast eyes. He looked so young, so much like the awkward boy she had come to love that Lily’s breath froze in her throat, her heart constricting in pain. She should’ve told him something, she should have been disgusted by him, by what he was allowing himself to turn in to, but she couldn’t.

All she could think of was that every part of the boy she knew would soon disappear. He was often cold, hateful and neck deep into the most repulsive forms of magic and apparently a very good liar. How long would it be before he would succumb to his worst nature? How long would it be before the awkward boy in front of her would turn in one of those heartless monsters? She didn’t want him to change, she couldn’t bear the thought of that boy being replaced by some evil Death Eater.

She inched closer, a silent tear gliding down her cheeks as she stared at him, knowing that her friend would soon disappear. She couldn’t even bear the thought of it.

Oblivious to her inner turmoil, Severus’ eyes widened when he felt Lily’s arms closing around his torso, the feeling of her warm body pressed against his causing his heart to stop as she started to cry. He froze, the blood draining from his face as she brought him closer, holding him so tightly that after a while he struggled to breathe. He did not dare to move, his own body as stiff as a board, his arms locked under her own and resting on his sides, crushed by the unexpected hug.

He stiffened, her close proximity both overwhelming and confusing. Hadn’t she been angry? Why was she even crying? Why would she want to hold him? Hadn’t she just called him a liar? She did not trust him, he had been brought back to a time in which, thanks to his past behaviour, she already thought the worst of him. So, why of all people would she ever desire his closeness? It was utterly confusing, the feeling of her own body against his almost too much for him to bear.

Severus took a shaky breath, his own eyes prickling when once again it hit him how real she was. He stopped breathing, her heart beating against his own as her arms tightened around his thin frame, her forearms pressing against his spine. Severus shivered, his breaths becoming quicker.

‘Lily…’ he croaked, terrified of how broken his voice was, terrified of how exposed he now was, his emotions threatening to come to the surface. His lips trembled, his hands sweating and shaking. It took all the strength he had to wipe the physical signs of what that single hug was doing to him from his face.

He closed his eyes for a moment, pulling away when he finally managed to get a grip on himself, shielding himself behind Occlumency. Lily looked at him, a multitude of emotions flickering in her eyes before Severus forced himself to look away.

Lily took a step back, unnerved by the blank look in her friend’s eyes. She gulped, he was unnerving when he did that; she wondered whether she had just imagined his voice breaking when he’d said her name.

‘I… I’m sorry’ she said, squirming with discomfort when his eyes rested on her once more. She swallowed; how could he look that emotionless? Indeed, she could consider it a miracle he had not shoved her aside. What had she been thinking? She shouldn’t have hugged him.

She averted her eyes, because she knew what she had been thinking. But it didn’t matter how much she had wanted to cling to the notion that he was yet to become evil, she really shouldn’t have done that. He had been so stiff… Lily hadn’t seen his expression, but his dead eyes were telling her that he obviously hadn’t enjoyed that unexpected physical contact.

If he’d finally made up this mind... She could remember Rodolphus Lestrange making a scene when a first year Muggleborn had tripped on his robes, inadvertently touching him. Lily swallowed. Was that it, had he already gone that far? Was it because she was a… Mudblood? Lily, stopped right there, knowing full well that to dwell on that thought would mean to surely cry. She glanced at him, somewhat relieved when she found no sign of disgust in his dark eyes; but she also had no idea what he was thinking and in a manner of speaking that was even worse.

‘I’m sorry, I-’, she started and then stopped, the soulless expression on his face unbearable. She didn’t know what to expect from him and that was driving her insane. Would he snap and tell her to stay away from him? That she didn’t have any right to touch him? Wasn’t that what they all said about people like her? She gulped, a tight knot forming on her stomach as she waited for him to say something, because at this point anything would be better than what she was thinking. Severus frowned.

‘You are afraid of me’ he said. It didn’t sound like a question.

Lily flinched, her eyes bright as they met his. The strange thing was that he didn’t look surprised, on the contrary, he seemed both sad and resigned. Alas, those emotions left his gaze as soon as he realised she was staring at him, leaving Lily wondering whether the sadness she had seen in his eyes had ever been there in the first place.

And yet how dare he accuse her of such a thing? She wasn’t afraid of him, or at least not at all in the way he intended it. The Gryffindor in her should’ve been furious, but the truth was that, at that point, Lily didn’t have much strength to be angry anymore.

‘I’m not afraid of you’ she argued, despite her lack of anger, clearly annoyed by the certainty of his statement. There was nothing scary about the thin boy standing before her, his robes hanging loosely on his skinny frame, his height nowhere near imposing. It was the looming shadow of his future self that scared her the most, the horrible man he was bound to become if he kept going down that path.

Lily felt her eyes prickle, her mouth twisting in a bitter grimace.

‘Should I be? Are we still even friends? You know what I am and your greatest goal is to become one of those monsters. How long will it be before you start calling me Mudblood like they all do? You just-’ she stopped, for his face had visibly whitened.

She opened her mouth to finish but closed it right away, because all of a sudden Severus looked ill. There was a pause and something seemed to change in those dark eyes of his. He took a deep, calming breath as his eyes found hers, his expression so serious that Lily froze.

‘Please, don’t use that word’, he said, his voice so quiet and remorseful that Lily startled, ‘There are no excuses for my past behaviour, but things are different now. I will not continue down that path. I’m no longer foolish enough to believe in his tales of power and glory. Everything he has to offer, I do not want it’

Lily stared at him in silence unable to look away, her heart skipping a beat as his lips moved once more.

‘I will not join the Death Eaters, Lily. I give you my word’

Lily’s heart stopped, the look in his eyes causing her to take a step back. No. She shook her head, her face paler than ever. He doesn’t mean it, she told herself, her heart beating so fast that for a moment she feared he too might hear it.

‘You don’t mean it’ she said, shaking her head, choking on her own words as she wrenched her eyes from him, unable to bear his gaze any longer. He’s lying, she thought, repeating those two words like a mantra, no matter how much his expression seemed to suggest otherwise, no matter how much she wanted to believe him. She stared anxiously at him, her lips trembling.

‘I do’ he said, his eyes not leaving hers for a second.

Lily faltered, the colour draining from her face, furious with herself when she realised she was falling for that absurd lie, ignoring that something inside her heart was telling her that he wasn’t indeed lying.

‘I don’t believe you’ she forced herself to say, shaking her head in denial.

She stared at his haggard face, refusing to process what was happening, her anger quickly deflating when she realised that very much like he hadn’t been surprised by her fear, he didn’t look surprised by her lack of faith. Lily swallowed, her eyes taking in his whole figure and for the first time she wondered if it wasn’t some really bad imposter she was facing, because the boy in front was acting nothing like the Severus she knew, the tired look in his eyes, foreign to his temperamental nature.

He didn’t look outraged in front of her obvious disbelief, there was no trace of the anger she had been expecting. His reactions were all wrong. Indeed, for far from looking furious, Severus merely looked as though her incredulity didn’t surprise him at all, as though it was to be expected. Lily shifted on her feet, his odd behaviour bringing her to question whether he had ever considered becoming a Death Eater in the first place, whether she hadn’t just read the signs all wrong. It was enough to make her head spin.

‘I mean what I said, Lily, this is not a game, nor a lie. I gave you my word and I shall keep it. My future does not lay within his ranks. Not now, not anymore’ he said almost quietly.

Lily gulped, her face white as a sheet.

‘N- Not anymore?’, she repeated weakly, a grimace touching her pale face, her chest felling horribly tight.

She tried to swallow and failed, her eyes prickling. It was one thing to suspect the worse of him and another thing entirely to realise that her worst fears had been true. He had wanted to join him, he had considered it and probably given it much more thought that she was comfortable to admit. Lily wanted to hit him, to yell at him. She wasn’t sure whether she should be sick he had had the gall to admit it or be thankful that he had. One thing was true, she no longer thought he was lying.

Severus sighed.

‘No, not anymore’ he repeated, his honesty almost unwelcome, for Lily had spent the last year of her life telling herself that Severus would snap out of it. Indeed, she’d hoped that in time she’d be able to sigh with relief and that, despite all the worrying signs, Severus would finally prove her wrong. Needless to say, there was no lying to herself now. The truth was a hard pill to swallow.

Lily took a deep breath and knowing she was just being stupid, she forced herself to look at him. A tight knot formed in the pit of her stomach, when she realised he was politely waiting for her answer, giving her the necessary time to process his confession.

She had been a horrible friend, hadn’t she? She’d failed to make him see reason and more often than not had cowardly avoided any touchy subjects, but Sev… She stared at him with wide eyes. For the first time, it was as though Severus had realised just how wrong things were between them.

‘Why? Why now?’ she asked, her voice both strained and disheartened.

She should’ve questioned him; after all, hadn’t she seen him hanging out with those horrible boys only three days before, talking about You-Know-Who and Death Eaters without a care in the world? She should’ve known that people didn’t change their world views in barely more than forty-eight hours, but… Again, she couldn’t bring herself to believe he was lying.

‘I had a recent change of heart, one that is quite permanent’

She glanced at him, his expression so serious that her heart gave a hollow thud. She didn’t dare to believe it, it was just too good to be true, she thought, wincing when his black eyes bored into hers, staring so intently at her that Lily thought he could’ve easily been staring into her very soul.

‘If you do not trust me, I think you should know that there are safer… ways… to assure I will remain truthful to my word. Something much stronger than what might be perceived as empty words’ he said reluctantly, his expression suddenly grave as their eyes met once more.

‘No’ she said, a horrified look crossing her face when she finally understood what he was implying, the seriousness of his gaze nearly startling her into silence. The thought that he believed she would even think about asking him to do such a thing… that she would want that of him…

‘You don’t mean it. It’s sick, Severus. How can you even…’, she bit her lower lip, looking at his tired face and growing quite uncomfortable when she noticed that he looked slightly confused.

Christ… It was as though he hadn’t quite realised Lily would find it upsetting. As though it would be perfectly normal for her to ask him to perform some heinous Dark spell that would force him to remain truthful to his word. Something that would most likely kill him were he to break his vow.

‘My apologies, it was just a suggestion’ he said, nodding slightly in acknowledgment.

Lily stared at him, now positively frightened. God, what have they done to him? Did the Slytherins refuse to trust each other were they not bound to keep their word by Dark Magic? To suggest such a thing so casually… Had he done it before? Lily shot him another anxious look, feeling queasy.

‘Sev… Your Slytherin friends… they didn’t…’, she stopped, her heart faltering when he looked at her, frowning. She took a deep breath. ‘They… they haven’t forced you to do anything like that… have they?’ she finished, her palms feeling cold and sweaty. Severus blinked, his thin lips parting for the briefest of seconds before he let out a derisive scoff.

‘No, their influence over my decisions is over. I am done doing their bidding. They can join the Death Eaters and get themselves killed for all I care’, he said bitterly, ‘They’re all too young and foolish to know what’s best for them anyway’ he finished, his lips curling in a bitter grimace.

‘Are you serious?’ she asked, her voice much stronger than she felt.

‘I am’ he said, his gaze alone causing Lily to falter, those black eyes shaking her to the very core of her soul.

‘You better not be lying! If you are, I swear I’ll make you regret it’ she threatened, the tension slowly leaving her body when he nodded again, his eyes never leaving hers, until all of a sudden, Lily’s lips quivered, stretching in a happy smile.

The corner of his lips weakly twitched upwards upon hearing her threats, his eyes losing some of their darkness.

‘Good’ she said, the fierceness of her expression softened by the smile threating to break once again through her lips.

They stared at each other for a few moments and it wasn’t long before, upon gazing into her eyes, Severus realised that what she had just given to him was a last chance. It was up to him to make sure she wouldn’t come to regret it.

Severus frowned at the pile of books in front of him, his eyes perusing the shelves of the Restricted Section. He stretched out his hand, an irrational feeling of guilt lingering in the pit of his stomach. He wondered what Lily would have thought had she known he was there, she would not be happy, not after what he had just promised to her.

There was a reason why she had been afraid of his reading habits, that Severus knew. Indeed, the corruptive magic permeating those tomes was often dangerous to young wizards unfamiliar with the addictive power of Dark Magic. Severus’ thin lips twisted in a grimace, the magic coming out from the darkest section of the Library causing a cold shiver to run down his spine. His younger body seemed to be much more sensitive to it, lingering for too long would be dangerous.

He couldn’t help being annoyed by the knowledge. Indeed, it had been at the age of fifteen that Severus had quickly learnt that the reading of those books came with a price, a price he had been more than willing to pay in exchange for their precious knowledge. The thought itself had been thrilling; there was always a silent agreement. Dark Magic demanded sacrifices in exchange for violating the order of nature.

And yet, despite having grown accustomed to it, this body would not tolerate more than a few hours before becoming physically and magically exhausted. Indeed, whilst his mind still offered him the strength and resistance of a fully-grown wizard, not even the use of the Mind Arts would allow him a prolonged stay. Occlumency would only keep his mind from being allured and corrupted.

Severus sighed, the lure of the darkest book in the section struggling to sway him from his purpose. There wasn’t anything in that Library that could worsen the state of his soul, but his recent encounter with death had left him in no shape to feed those books more energy than he could afford himself to lose. He stared at the books, until his eyes rested on a particularly battered tome. He brushed his fingers against its spine, his hairs bristling as the books around him seemed to maliciously whisper.

His thin fingers closed around it, his eyes narrowing when its foul magic crawled up his skin. His mouth thinned as he pulled it out of its shelf, his wand a mere inch from its cover. He started at it for a few moments, carefully removing the protective spells around it. Indeed, this particular book was so well protected that Severus doubted an average student would’ve been able to sneak it out of the shelf undetected.

He narrowed his eyes. Well, the title certainly seemed promising, he thought, looking at it slightly amused, his lips forming a small smirk. Lily wouldn’t have approved, but Severus knew she would not understand that Dark Magic would not corrupt him; his sins not something he could ever forget. And indeed, as a man who had already seen so much darkness, there was very little in that Library that could tempt him to fall prey once again of his worst nature.

As understandable as Lily’s worries had been, there was now very little any of those books could do to him. And despite the slight guilt he felt for finding himself there a few hours after his promise, Dumbledore hadn’t given him more than a single word to help him with the Dark Lord. There was no guarantee that this Albus Dumbledore would be more straightforward than his future version had been or that he wouldn’t deem him unworthy of something he must’ve clearly shared with Potter, Severus thought with a sneer.

He closed his eyes, resting his hand on the book cover, cringing when he sensed the powerful Dark Magic surrounding it. His heart tightened, despite all, a spark of excitement gleaming in his dark eyes.

Magick Moste Evil.

That was certainly an interesting reading, he thought, briefly wondering whether this was one of the books Dumbledore had removed.

He opened it, his fingers trembling with anticipation as he pointed his wand at it, the darkness of the night preventing him from reading the small writing.

“Lumos” he thought, squinting his eyes as his pupils adjusted to the wand light. He didn’t even have to read past the introduction to find what he needed. He leaned closer, a deep line forming between his dark eyebrows before the worst kind of disappointed took hold of his features.

His mouth thinned, his lips curling in a sneer.

What a fucking waste of time…

‘I tell you he’s here, Padfoot, it’s on the map!’

Severus’ eyes widened, the book sloppily falling from his grasp as he hid in the shadows, immediately extinguishing the Lumos spell. He took a deep breath, furious with himself for being so careless, for having been caught off guard by a bunch of teenagers. He gritted his teeth, unwilling to accept that his body had reacted instinctively, immediately recognising those voices, his mind going back to memories of years of unpredictable ambushes and shameful bullying. So much for being a seasoned spy, Severus thought, furiously.

He shivered, his fingers twitching for his wand as an irrational rush of fear took hold of his body.

‘I- I can’t see him, James. Wh- what if he’s invisible too? We- we’re going to get caught!’ whimpered Wormtail. Severus took a deep breath, Wormtail’s fearful whisper helping him to get back to his senses; the grip on his wand slowly loosened.

He was decades older, he had more than twenty years of experience over any of them. They could not even dream of overpowering him, not even if they attacked him together. He pressed his back against the cold wall, the faint sound of footsteps the only thing suggesting their growing proximity.

‘Oh, shut it, Peter. Snivellus can’t even afford a new pair of shoes for his greasy feet, let alone a cloak. Have you seen his filthy uniform? It has holes in it’ Potter said boldly, the sound of parchment causing Severus’ eyes to reduce to slits, his teeth now bared.

Of course… He had forgotten about the bloody map, a map he hadn’t even know they had had until a few years before, he thought, now properly enraged, his eyes falling on the book he had dropped.

‘What if he doesn’t need a cloak? He might’ve learned a Dark Spell or something’ Pettigrew whispered, letting out a shrilly cry when a book nearby moaned.

‘Come on, Wormtail, don’t be thick. Dad says it’s not until seventh year that they teach us how to spell ourselves invisible, not than we need it. You think Snape can do that? It’s way too advanced, it gets Aurors a few years before they can do it right’, Potter said importantly, ‘I bet Evans can do it alright’.

Black groaned, sounding both annoyed and exasperated; Potter did not seem to notice.

‘He said she asked him to meet him, Padfoot. I bet the slimy git was lying, it’s either that or he has her Confunded’ Potter said solemnly, earning himself another exasperated huff.

‘I don’t know what you see in her, Prongs. Sure, she’s pretty, but the school’s full of nice chicks. She’s got a nasty temper, that one, squashing all the fun out of us. She hasn’t got an ounce of humour and-’

‘And she hates you’ added Wormtail, sucking in a sharp breath as soon as he realised what he had just said. ‘Sorry, James, I didn’t mean…’

‘That’s right. You see, Prongs, even Wormtail gets it’ said Black, the arrogance in his voice causing Severus to sneer.

Black the teenager was starting to get on his nerves. Where was Filch when he needed him? Wandering in the corridors in the dead of the night… Had he still been a teacher he would’ve put them in detention for the rest of their lives.

‘Nah, she doesn’t. She likes me, Wormtail. Remember Potions class? She was smiling’

The corner of Severus’ mouth twisted in an ugly grimace.

‘Really? I was under the impression she was scowling’ Black scoffed, ‘She’s not worth it. Have you seen the way she looks at me? Acting as though she’s Miss Bloody Perfect. I don’t know how Moony can stand her for more than a minute. Personally, I wouldn’t trust anyone willing to spend a whole evening with Snivellus. Confunded my arse…’

The steps came to a halt, the air growing thick as Wormtail took a step back, his eyes darting between his friends.

‘What the fuck, Padfoot? She’s just Confunded, you can’t actually think she enjoys spending time with that bastard. He’s playing her like a fiddle. She just doesn’t know any better. Aren’t you worried he’ll do something to her?’

‘Actually, no, I’m not the one obsessed with her. But you’re right about Snivellus, he’s up to something. Where is he? He should be here; the map’s never wrong. The Restricted Section… I should’ve known that greasy odd ball was up to no good, acting all superior just because…’, Severus stiffened, his fingers twitching as the sound of footsteps came to a halt.

‘J- James? Sirius? L- look!’

A pale hand emerged out of nowhere, small fingers pointing at the book on the floor before a bespectacled boy appeared out of thin air, kneeling just a couple of feet from him. Potter… Severus thought, staring down his hooked nose at him. Potter looked around, pointing his wand at the book.

‘James, Sirius? I don’t think that’s a good-’, but Potter was not listening. A second later Black too appeared out of thin air, resting the folded cloak on his arm Wormtail’s watery eyes darted frantically in the darkness as he stared at his foolish friends.

‘James, I have a bad feeling about this’ he whinged, but once again, the boys ignored him.

‘Lumos’

From the tip of Potter’s wand appeared a small sphere of light. Oblivious to Severus’ silent stare, Potter leaned closer and started to read. Severus stepped closer; years spent prowling the corridors at night making his steps completely silent. He adjusted the grip on his black wand, weighing his options, his body still covered by dark shadows; then hesitated for a moment, watching as Potter’s face whitened.

‘This book… Peter’s right, whatever Snape’s doing he’s up to is no good. Do you think we should talk to Dumbledore? This book shouldn’t even be here, Sirius’

‘Maybe Dumbledore just missed it. If you think it’s sick you should see what kind of books my mother collects’ he scoffed, disdainfully.

‘Horcrux…’, he said slowly, causing Severus’ hairs to bristle.

‘What?’ Black interjected.

‘I don’t know. Someone bothered to underline it, but the ink looks years old. Have you heard this word before?’ Potter asked, looking up at his friends. Black’s expression darkened as he glared at his best mate.

‘Do I look like a Dark Wizard to you?’ he barked, his eyes flashing with annoyance. Wormtail shrunk.

‘Wh- what’s… What’s a horcr- a… horcrux?’ he asked, looking between his friends, his face whitening by the minute. Potter furrowed his brow.

‘I don’t know. All it says is: of the Horcrux, wickedest of magical inventions, we shall not speak nor give direction. I mean it doesn’t even-’, he stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes widening when they rested on Severus’ dark wand. He looked up, his face whitening with fear when he set his eyes on Severus’ dark ones. Potter’s fingers twitched, but it was too late.

‘Obliviate’

Potter’s eyes rolled backwards as he fell on the ground, followed by his two friends. Severus looked down at them, rescuing the book from the unconscious boy’s grasp. His eyes flickered to the cloak, Wormtail’s hand still closed on their bloody map. There had been a time where he would’ve relished in that scene, his childhood tormentors resting helplessly at his feet, but the truth was that Severus found no joy in what had happened.

He had allowed himself to be followed, risking their life as well as his own. What would’ve happened hadn’t he noticed their presence? Had he been unable to Obliviate them all? Still scowling, Severus restored the protective spells on the book, his eyes resting on the boys one last time before he finally left the Library.

Chapter Text

Severus woke up with a faint headache that morning. He sighed, rolling onto his side, a dark frown forming on his tired face as he opened the curtains of his fourposter bed. He stared at the faint light filtering through the window, a Grindylow floating creepily a few inches from the decorated glass, its gleaming eyes lingering on the sleeping students.

Severus stared back, unimpressed. He’d been both fascinated and disturbed by the Black Lake and its creatures as a boy, fearing he would fall into the water when he’d jumped on the rocky boat in his first year, excitement and fear mingling in his stomach.

He hadn’t known how to swim; he had spent his summers in Cokeworth, the only body of water available to him being that polluted river, its smell foul enough that it had never crossed his mind to touch its waters. He’d seen the ocean for the first time only as an adult. Lily had told him stories about it, about the tide unveiling countless shells and of their different colours and shapes; she’d even brought back a few for him in the summer of their first year.

Indeed, Severus had only been taught the basics of swimming when they had practised the Bubble-Head Charm in their sixth year and dived under the surface of the Black Lake. He could still remember Potter and Black having a blast when they’d realised greasy Snivellus was afraid of getting in the water, bursting his Bubble-Head charm and nearly causing him to drown.

“Damn, Sirius, must be the first time he’s washed his hair in five years!” Potter had said, the sight of his wet hair, long and tangled with seaweed causing them to burst out laughing.

Severus sneered, forcing himself to shake off those unpleasant memories. Merlin help him if he allowed himself to be treated in such manner ever again; indeed, Potter should consider himself lucky that Severus was now a grown adult and above petty comebacks.

His dark eyes slowly fixed on the empty vial of Sleeping Draught still resting on his bedside table, his mouth twisting in displeasure; so much for stopping himself from using such potion. If he was not careful, they’d notice someone had been stealing those vials. He really ought to stop relying on it.

Severus scowled, opening his nightstand drawer with a jerk, his fingers closing around one of the smallest vials he had stolen from Slughorn’s Office. He stared at it, the potion inside it not a shade lighter than blood. He twisted it in his bony fingers, the greenish light coming from the window beside him illuminating the dark liquid inside. He looked at it for a moment longer, then downed it in a single gulp, his mouth contorting unpleasantly.

The metallic taste of the Blood-Replenishing Potion lingered disgustingly on his tongue. He waited, his thin lips pulling back in an anger when he realised, he didn’t feel much better than before. He had slept for a good six hours and he was still exhausted. Indeed, in spite of his extensive skills in multiple branches of magic, he was forced to confront the fact that he was no healer. The truth was that the best course of action for him would have been to visit St. Mungo’s.

Lily had been right in suggesting he needed a visit to the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t have asked him too many questions if he’d blamed his condition on physical exhaustion and sleep deprivation. And yet, aside from the risk of her discovering the wound on his neck, it was out of pride that Severus had convinced himself that he did not require anyone’s help to heal.

His wellbeing wasn’t worth the humiliation of going to the very place where she had told him, with no half measures, he was no longer welcome, her lips trembling when she had whispered the word “murderer”. The fact that she no longer remembered did nothing to soothe his anger, nor wash away the memory of how her eyes had darted between her patients and him, her face shuddering with repressed fear.

Severus gritted his teeth, the bitterness of those thoughts putting him in a foul mood. The scar on his neck burned as he removed his nightshirt. He closed his eyes, the sight of his prominent ribs and frail body doing nothing to ease his displeasure. He ran a hand through his greasing hair, not even wincing when his feet touched the cold floor, the freezing contact giving his thoughts some form of clarity.

With a small scowl, he reinforced the charm concealing Nagini’s work, his eyes drifting to the tall pendulum clock beside him. His gaze slowly wandered to Mulciber’s bunk, the boy’s loud snoring reverberating in the otherwise silent Dormitory.

It had been Mulciber’s snoring the reason why, by their fifth year, they’d all been able to perform a perfect Silencing Charm. In fact, as their sleep had grown lighter, there hadn’t been a single one of them willing to bear such unyielding snoring any longer.

Severus shook his head as Avery turned in his bed, groaning. There was a small opening between the green curtains of the boy’s bed, wide enough for him to see that Avery had just buried his face under his pillow, his mouth contorted in a grimace. He had forgotten that he had indeed been the last to learn how to survive Mulciber’s snoring.

Swinging his tattered bag onto his shoulder, Severus ascended the stairs leading to the Common Room. He walked towards the exit, his steps light and quiet. He was just about to place his hand on the stone passage leading to the dungeon corridor when the feeling of being watched caused him to stop in his tracks. He turned around, his trained reflexes being the only thing preventing him from falling victim of a silent hex.

‘Impressive’ a voice drawled, the silence that followed was broken by nothing but the crackling of the dying fire. Severus’ gaze wandered to his surroundings, his eyes fixing on the slim figure of Evan Rosier. He was sitting in one of the big armchairs next to the fire, a book laying open in his lap, his fingers tracing the intricate patterns on his wand. The corner of Severus’ mouth pulled downwards.

‘Snape’ Rosier greeted him, his cold green eyes assessing him with both annoyance and interest, that look unable to hide that he hadn’t expected him to block a spell meant to taunt him. Severus didn’t need to brush the surface of the boy’s thoughts to notice the suspiciousness in his eyes.

‘Rosier’ he said, his tone not one of a person willing to indulge in conversation. Rosier smiled, his eyes narrowing as he rested his arms on the armrests of the chair, his neat robes and impeccable posture unable to hide the note of wariness in his eyes.

‘I don’t think that’s how you address your superiors, Snape. I don’t like the way you are looking at me. Let’s try again’ he said, gesturing to his face with his wand, his eyes narrowing even more when Severus didn’t blush at those words.

Severus’ mouth thinned, a spark of anger igniting inside him. Potter and his gang had relished in publicly humiliating him, but his so-called friends had always been subtler when it’d come to it, acting as though he should’ve been thankful they allowed him to lick the dirt off their shoes. His lips contorted in a strange smile.

‘Indeed? And yet here you are, another coward who dares attack me behind my back… I thought you would have understood by now that I wish to be left alone’ Severus said silkily, his voice low and dangerous.

‘And speaking of manners. Forgive me, but I fail to see how anyone so easily manipulated by the likes of Mulciber could later ask to be respected…’ Severus said calmly, staring at the wand held loosely in Rosier’s hand.

Rosier said nothing, but his mouth visibly thinned as he fought to control his temper. There was no doubt that Rosier would’ve become a thorn in his side had he lived enough to become a man, but as of now he was yet to pose any real threat.

‘A small favour for a younger cousin, I’m sure you understand…’ he said through gritted teeth, his expression bordering on disgust and suggesting his parents must’ve burdened him with the task to look out for his family.

Purebloods were all related, some more closely than others. Distant relations mattered little, but in his teenage years Severus had taken great pride in discovering that he was distantly related to the Malfoys, doing his upmost to ignore the fact that there was a good chance he might also be related to Black. The thought occasionally still caused him to grimace in disgust.

‘And speaking of my dear cousin, I have to say that I’m quite curious. How did you do it? The Mediwitch says the wound will take a full week to fully heal’ Rosier continued; this time unable to fully hide his interest.

Severus stared at him. It was only then that he noticed three dark tomes on the mantelpiece. No doubt they had all been smuggled from the darkest corner of the Restricted Section, he considered. Either that or Rosier had managed to convince Slughorn to sign him a pass; he’d always been skilled when it came to flattering the old Potions Master, always smart enough to hide his interest in the Dark Arts.

Had Rosier spent half the night looking for the answer in those books? He doubted it, the Dormitory had looked silent when he had returned. Rosier followed his gaze, his expression hardening as his eyes fell on the boy’s school bag, a brand-new copy of Confronting the Faceless poking out of it. Severus wondered whether, like the majority of his peers, Rosier had even bothered to open it.

The spell had been slightly altered, but if Rosier, very much like the rest of the student body would’ve bothered to read his own textbook, he would have found a very similar spell at the very beginning of the twentieth chapter. Severus’ lips twitched at that notion, the Professor in him mildly amused.

If memory served him correctly, Rosier would be sitting his N.E.W.T.s the following year... The boy was in for a nasty shock if he thought his family could convince the examiners to award him any undeserving points. Not even Lucius had had that power, not that he hadn’t tried, laughing at how stuck-up Severus had been when it had come to discussing the subject.

‘Don’t insult my intelligence, Snape, I’m not Mulciber. We both know it’s not amongst those spells, I want to know what it was’ he said through gritted teeth, slowly getting to his feet, mimicking a mannerism that Severus knew he must have picked up in some pureblood meeting.

Another child playing the adult…

Still, Rosier l had a long way to go before he learnt to play this game.

‘Whatever it was, it does not concern you’ Severus said calmly, his lips twitching when the boy blinked, this time unable to hide how taken aback he was by the answer.

Silence stretched between them as they stared at each other, Rosier’s expression moving between shock and anger before his eyes became colder, his posture looking slightly rigid as he spoke, the rational part of his brain seemingly prevailing.

‘Fine, it was obviously wrong of me to believe you’d be sensible enough to show some respect. How much do you want?’ he drawled, his green eyes travelling down Severus’ figure, his lips twitching at the pathetic state of his clothes.

Severus’ mouth thinned.

‘There’s no point in lying to each other, Snape. It’s no wonder why those Gryffindors keep making a fool out of you … You do look like you are in desperate need of money. It won’t fix everything, of course’, he said, looking pointedly at his face, ‘but it’s always a start. Slytherin is a noble House, we can’t have one of our own going around looking like a beggar now, can we?’ Rosier said, his green eyes falling on Severus’ torn shoes and faded garments.

‘I’m afraid I don’t have more than a couple of Sickles at the moment. Still, enough to make a few necessary changes’ he added.

Severus’ mouth set in a hard line, his eyes flashing with annoyance. His robes might no longer have holes, but there was just so much spells could do, no matter how advanced they were, he thought, unable to fully hide a grimace. Indeed, Severus was ashamed to admit that had he truly been sixteen, he would’ve accepted Rosier’s money without a second thought.

He would’ve overlooked the fact that a few Sickles would’ve been barely enough to buy a new pair of socks, failing to see the veiled mockery behind what was nothing but worthless pocket change for the boy. There was no denying what he had become: a poor half-blood with nothing more than his wand and a few worthless items to his name, his goods and possessions lost to a time yet to come. A muscle in Severus’ jaw twitched.

‘Spare me, Rosier. The answer is no’ Severus said, his eyes fixing on the boy once more.

Money aside, there were much more important reasons why it would be an unwise choice to share his knowledge with Evan Rosier and any of his peers, the memories of how his own spells had been used by the Death Eaters haunting him to this very day.

How many people had been hurt by the spells he had created? Everything he had known and created given away for a mere Galleon or a few Sickles… At the time Severus hadn’t cared, taking everything that was offered, with little to no regard for the consequences. His heart had swelled with pride when the Dark Lord himself had been eager to experiment with his darkest creations. His Master had been in the habit of leaving his followers to dispose of everyone he had grown too tired to interrogate, their minds too damaged to hope they could ever recover.

He did not want that blood on his hands, not if he could avoid it; that person, that young man so eager to please had died a long time ago. And his crimes, though yet to happen, did not weigh on his conscience any less in this past time.

‘I beg your pardon?’ Rosier said, his voice holding a note of warning as silence fell between them once more.

‘I said no’ Severus repeated, his voice as cold as his eyes.

‘Apologies, I think I must’ve misheard. Did you say no?’ Rosier said with a forced smile, a smile that caused Severus’ lips to twitch, his expression halfway between annoyance and amusement.

‘Oh, I’m afraid you heard me correctly, Rosier. I’m sure you are aware of the reason why I find myself no longer willing to share my creations’ Severus replied, his eyes wandering pointedly to the door leading to the dormitories.

He could forget going to the Library before breakfast, he would barely have enough time to wash his face, let alone have a shower if the conversation between him and Rosier kept going.

‘Don’t be ridiculous, Snape. You agreed to teach that small hex of yours to Avery, and that was only two weeks ago. He showed it to me and I’ve been generous enough to pay you ten Sickles for it. So, what’s changed? It looks to me as though you fancy yourself much more valuable to the cause than you actually are’ he snapped, his voice suddenly low and dangerous, ‘So, why?’ he repeated.

Why? Severus sighed, a grimace forming on his lips. Of the hundreds of reasons, he could have given for refusing to share the simplest of spells there were only a few that would not cause Rosier to question his allegiance. He might have grown used to defending himself from countless hexes and curses, but it would not do to have Rosier and the others following his every step; not when he had much more important matters to attend to.

On one thing the boy was right, he wasn’t Mulciber and he wasn’t nearly as stupid as his cousin was. So long as he believed them to be part of the same faction, he would not publicly attack him, he would not draw that kind of attention to himself. The boy was smart enough to know that he would do him no good to have the professors watching his every move, risking that they would sense his true allegiance.

Severus narrowed his eyes.

‘Ten Sickles for one of my own spells to be used against me’ he said bitterly.

‘I didn’t share it with those Gryffindors brats, Snape. As I said, I’m not Mulciber’ the boy spat, his face twisting with disgust at the mere thought of being compared to his cousin. No, he wasn’t Mulciber, which only made him more predictable, for Rosier would not attack without reason; not when he knew he might need Severus as an ally in the future; today he had only been testing him. What a nuisance, Severus thought; it looked as though even this time he wouldn’t be allowed to have a moment of peace any time soon.

‘Which is why I trust you’ll have no problem understanding why I am no longer willing to indulge in these exchanges. The spell spread around the school like wildfire, with fools trying to take credit for my work, whilst others used it against me. Surely you understand why it is not worth what you’re willing to pay for it’ he said coldly.

‘Perhaps you should only share it with the right people’ he said snidely.

‘The answer is still no. Have a good day’ he said, Rosier’s eyes never leaving him as he walked towards the stone passage leading to the exit, leaving with a polite nod.

‘Hold on, I’m not finished with you, Snape’ Rosier argued.

Severus ignored him, clicking his tongue in annoyance. The less he talked to them, the better. And yet, he knew that unless he somehow managed to destroy the Dark Lord in the near future, it would become increasingly more difficult for him to steer clear of Rosier and his gang.

The time had come for him to meet with Dumbledore, he thought reluctantly, the prospect of having to endure another day of fifth-year classes doing nothing to sway his mind from those dark thoughts.

Another day had passed since Severus had promised his childhood best friend that he would no longer join the Death Eater. And while Lily had warmed up to him since that day, his promise sounded little more than a mockery to his own ears.

“I will not join the Death Eaters”, he had said. And what sort of imbecile would join them again? In hindsight, not even Lucius and many others would join the Dark Lord again. And indeed, Lily’s subsequent happiness and relief was almost unbearable. Severus had joined the Death Eaters and out of his own free will. He had always suspected what they were and he had not cared. Indeed, he had been barely out of school when he’d joined them without sparing a single thought for the consequences. He had just wanted the world to burn.

Perhaps he should have told her that; if the mere admission that he had been considering it had caused her to cry, he did not dare think what the truth would do to her, let alone to a friendship now based on lies. Severus distanced himself from his lunch, suddenly revolted by the smell of food, his throat hurting with each swallow. Lily looked at him, frowning, and his anger quickly morphed into guilt. He stared at her, feeling as though he was little more than a ghost living in someone else’s body, clinging to a moment of time to which he did not belong.

‘Are you alright, Sev?’ she asked.

Severus could not even remember the last time he had been “alright”, but he forced himself to nod all the same. He massaged his eyes, his ears tuning in to the chatter around him, his eyes falling on the scorching soup Lily had placed in front of him with a smile. The same soup he couldn’t bring himself to swallow. There were sitting at the Hufflepuff table, where Severus was being eyed with distrust.

He knew why she’d brought him here; her eyes constantly moving between his face and the meal she had forced upon him, her persistent gaze soon causing him to grow slightly uncomfortable. He did not know whether to be uncomfortable or annoyed by the fact she had noticed he’d been skipping meals.

‘Come on, stop sulking, it’s getting cold’ she nudged him, her smile unable to fully hide a note of apprehension.

She was worried and despite his closed stomach, it was for her sake that Severus began to swallow, the faint headache pulsing behind his temple slowly subsiding.

Lily’s shoulders slumped in relief, her lips twitching when she watched him wipe his mouth with a napkin after having finished his meal. Severus felt his cheeks growing warm as he realised that his teenage counterpart had often preferred the back of his hands to a napkin. No wonder she looked amused. Had he had no better manners than the dunderheads he was so used to teaching, the ones who would ear like a horde of hicks faced with their first meal after a famine.

He took a sip of water.

‘I was wondering if you still wanted to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend’ Lily said, her proposition nearly causing him to choke on his drink.

Severus’s heart faltered; that was until he remembered that it hadn’t been a rare occurrence for them to visit the village together. As of now, he couldn’t even remember the last time he had been to Hogsmeade for… fun. She looked at him expectantly, her bright green eyes betraying an inkling of worry.

He swallowed, staring at her beautiful face and realising with shock that while he had been lost in his thoughts, she had leaned closer.

He stiffened, so uncomfortable by the close proximity that he suddenly found himself hiding behind a curtain of black hair; unconsciously reverting to a mannerism that could have only belonged to an awkward teenager. The realisation caused him to scowl with embarrassment. He averted his eyes, his heart beating shamefully fast when he found himself staring at her soft lips, her eyes looking at him with warmth instead of mistrust and hatred. Stop looking at her, he told himself.

She waited, patiently.

‘Of- of course’ he stuttered, the words escaping his lips before he could even think about what he was saying.

And despite the shame churning in his stomach, Severus felt the redness creeping up his sallow cheeks when she nodded, his heart faltering when she smiled.

The sun had long since set behind the tall mountains surrounding the castle when Severus found himself staring at the big Gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore’s Office. He stared at it, as still and cold as the statue, Dumbledore’s words echoing in his mind.

“You might be aware of the possible outcomes of this future, but you have no mean to foresee how your actions will reshape it. I don’t need to tell you that you are not as safe as you think you are. A war is coming”

“I know what you are implying and there is no need, you know I will find you”

He closed his eyes for a moment and grimaced. Four days had passed since he had died and yet it wasn’t until this very day that he had found enough courage to confront the Headmaster. He had tried to meet those ever-knowing eyes during dinner, but he had found himself unable to stare at him for more than a few seconds. Somehow the thought of having to confront a Dumbledore that was neither dead nor a portrait was deeply unsettling to him; his last words, the flash of green light in the darkness of that night…

Everything that had happened flashed before his eyes; memories so painful and vivid that, without Occlumency that he couldn’t help but feeling sick at the mere sight of him.

On top of that, he couldn’t help but being frustrated by his own inability to decipher the man’s last cryptic warning: horcruxes. After another fruitless night spend researching the topic, he had been forced to admit that if a book about them had ever been at Hogwarts, Dumbledore must’ve already removed it.

How exactly he hoped to speak to Dumbledore when he could barely look at him, Severus did not know, but what he did know was that the wretched guilt in his stomach wouldn’t allow him to delay this meeting any longer. He had already wasted enough time.

Unsurprisingly, it did not take him long to guess the password; there were just so many sweets and desserts Dumbledore could use, the reoccurring pattern not obscure to a man who had spent the last seventeen years of his life walking up and down that office.

Despite being familiar with every turn and step, Severus ascended the stairs with a feeling of dread. He knocked on the heavy door and waited.

‘Enter’

He stepped inside, his face pale in the moonlight as he found himself staring at another ghost. Dumbledore had the same look of wisdom and timelessness and yet, somehow, he also looked also younger, his skin not as white and frail, his back a little straighter. The eyes however had remained the same, untouched by the passing of time and ever seeing; they had never stopped making Severus uncomfortable. More often than not he’d had the disturbing feeling that Dumbledore knew him better than he knew himself.

If Dumbledore was surprised to see him in his Office at such late hour, he did not show it, instead he tilted his head, his blue eyes shining with a spark of interest. Severus’ stomach twisted in a knot, his lips twisting as though he’d swallow something bitter.

‘Ah, Mr. Snape, to what do I owe the pleasure?’ he said, lacing his long fingers under his chin, as Fawkes too turned to look at him.

Severus tensed, looking as though Dumbledore had just slapped him. In the silence that follow Dumbledore’s greeting, the sound of his own surname lingered on his tongue like the foulest of potions.

Mr. Snape. He thought, sneeringly. He looked at the familiar office, trying to fool himself into thinking that the only thing irksome about Dumbledore’s greeting was the wrongness of his title. Severus’ brows set in a frown, his heart faltering when his eyes rested once more upon Dumbledore, his petty annoyance quickly fading as he noticed the icy look hidden behind what had initially mistaken for nothing more than polite interest.

He took a step back and all of a sudden, as he continued to stare into those icy eyes, Severus felt lost. Had he really been sixteen, he would not have cared. In fact, he wouldn’t have expected anything less by the Slytherins’ least favourite Headmaster, but Severus’ relationship with Dumbledore had become complicated and despite the occasional animosity and frustration, he had come to care for the Headmaster. But that wasn’t exactly right, Severus was almost ashamed to admit he’d relished in Dumbledore’s trust and approval. He’d been envious of how the Headmaster had doted on the boy, on Potter.

This Dumbledore did not know who Severus was, if not, that at the age of sixteen, the boy in front of him would not have cared if his lack of silence had resulted in Lupin being put down by the Ministry. A muscle in Severus’ neck tensed as the old wizard continued to stare at him, a dark shadow falling on his old face. His stomach lurched. Did he think he had come there to discuss the werewolf? And indeed, what other reason could Severus have had to seek Dumbledore at this age?

Severus could remember how Dumbledore had looked at him on that day; as though Severus was something disgusting, as though he should have showed some empathy for Lupin’s condition and pitied him for his struggles. His gaze hardened. Lupin, the cowardly werewolf who had allowed his friend to turn his transformation into a night of “fun”.

He’d said he’d been unaware of his friends’ plans in regard to Severus. Whether he’d told the truth or not, Sirius Black should have gotten more than a slap on the wrist for having showed himself capable of murder at the age of sixteen. A couple of weeks of detention and a month off the Quidditch Pitch. Severus gritted his teeth. Whether the matter had ought to remain secret or not, Dumbledore had always had a soft spot for Gryffindors and Severus would never be one of them, no matter what he did.

Of course, Dumbledore had not known his golden boys had been roaming the grounds at nights, nor had he known about their cloak and map. Lupin had broken his trust so spectacularly that nearly two decades later he hadn’t been responsible enough to admit his crimes, even if that meant risking the life of his best friend’s son.

He had thought Black to be guilty, refusing to spill his filthy schoolboy secrets for fear of what Dumbledore might think of him, allowing Black to enter the school and endangering them all. Had he been Headmaster at that time he would have done more than patiently wait for his resignation.

Lupin had carelessly forgotten his potion, spitting on his efforts and the safety of the entire student body, as well as his best friend’s son.

Dumbledore had been a fool to trust him. He had not said a word when Severus had exposed him, his head still pounding after being released from the hospital wing. Not that Severus would have listened; but Dumbledore had let it happen. He had been disappointed, the look on his face enough for the werewolf to run away for fear of facing him.

Severus had never pretended to be good, he’d never been afraid to look at himself in the mirror. He knew what he was. He did not relish at the idea of stirring pity in his colleagues and in being told how hard his life was. Sometimes the act of the meek werewolf got on his nerves more than Black’s blatant dislike and hatred for his person; at least Black had never pretended to like him, nor had he acted as though nothing between them had ever happened.

Severus took a deep breath, Occlumency filling his mind with cold lucidity as he pushed those memories away.

There was a long silence, occasionally broken by Fawkes. The phoenix who had initially eyed him curiously, was now peeling a chicken bone with its sharp beak, seemingly unconcerned by Severus’ presence.

‘I- I’ve come to offer you my services’ Severus said at last, swallowing the past resentment clouding his mind and cutting straight to the point.

Dumbledore stared at him, raising his eyebrows in disbelief. A rare sight indeed. He felt the corner of his lips twitch, mildly amused by the fact that for once in his life it was now Dumbledore the one on the receiving end of cryptic statements and riddles.

Alas, his twisted pleasure did not last long. It all happened in a fraction of a second; all he could state in his defence was that he reacted out of instinct. The Muggles might have called it muscle memory, if such a thing could be used to describe the mind arts, Severus did not know, but it was too late to take it back. The subtle prodding against his mind, not only noticed, but cast away with the force of a whip.

And Severus knew, as well as the Headmaster, that Severus Snape, the boy, would have lacked the skills to realise what was happening, let alone defend himself against that subtle prodding.

Dumbledore was eyeing him carefully now, the act of playing the part of the old fool long forgotten.

Severus said nothing, but his face visibly whitened and all of a sudden, he felt as though he was staring once again at the man at the top of that hill, waiting for him to strike, waiting for the pain to take hold of his features. Dumbledore wasn’t fond of violence, but he would not go gentle if he thought Severus to be a danger to his students.

He should have expected it, but it had been a long time since Severus had been wary of Dumbledore, because the Dumbledore he remembered would have never attempted it. Severus had never truly understood why, but the Headmaster had always preferred to hear his reports from his own mouth instead of his mind. Dumbledore had made a point in proving that he was not like the Dark Lord. It was a matter of trust he had said, and trust, as many other things, could not work unless freely given by both parties.

If he had once deemed the old man foolish for trusting a reformed Death Eater without any definitive proof of his loyalty, later on he had found himself desperate to prove himself worthy of that trust. Dumbledore had a way with people and to his utmost displeasure the thought of seeing the disappointment in Dumbledore’s eyes had quickly become much worse than any punishment the Dark Lord might inflict on him were he to discover his betrayal.

Whatever the Dark Lord’s followers said about the eccentric Headmaster, Severus knew that Albus Dumbledore was neither naïve nor a fool. Severus might’ve been no different than those reckless Gryffindors in trying to win Dumbledore’s respect and approval, but he had never been stupid enough to believe the old man ignorant of the effect that his words had on people.

It was curious how, sometimes, trust could have more influence on people than threats and fear. In fact, Severus had spent enough time with Dumbledore to know that between the two greatest wizards of the century, Dumbledore had had a greater potential for destruction than the Dark Lord had ever had. To think that such a wizard had been drawn to power in his youth had been unsettling. He would have been worshipped like a God, protective of his subjects and ruthless in his punishment. Like the Christian God in his father old bible, who had flooded the Earth to punish humanity its misdeeds, a genocide committed for the greater good.

Severus looked warily in the Headmaster’s eyes, the tears in his eyes when he had confessed his worst crimes, bringing him to question what sort of man could’ve stood in Dumbledore’s place had his sister survived. And what of him? What sort of person would Severus had been if Lily’s death had not awakened him from his slumber, if he’d been left walking deeper and deeper into the darkness?

Not that it mattered now, he thought, a cold drop of sweat gliding down his temple. Very much like he had done in his youth, Severus had underestimated him; his familiarity causing him to forget that Dumbledore had not always liked him, nor had he yet learnt to see past Severus’ barbed tongue and harsh personality.

Wonderful, he thought as Dumbledore gave him a calculating look, those icy blue eyes darkening. Severus faltered, fear piercing through him, his mind drifting back to that windswept hilltop, fearing for his life as Dumbledore looked down at him, his eyes cold and calculating. The fine hairs on the nape of his neck bristled as he snapped out of trance, his fingers twitching, urging him to draw his wand. But he soon found that he could not move and a feeling of betrayal crept towards him; for Dumbledore had not looked at him like that in eighteen years.

There was no warmth, no twinkle in those lively blue eyes. Dumbledore’s eyes were as cold as the stormy waters of the sea, preparing itself to strike the unfortunate people who had dared challenge it. Severus blanched. He tried to focus on Dumbledore, but he couldn’t and it wasn’t long before the unspoken accusations in those icy eyes pulled him back to an even worse night. His eyes widened as he saw Dumbledore falling from the Astronomy Tower, the smile slowly fading from that weathered old face as he fell, swallowed by darkness.

Murderer…

Severus flinched, his breath fast and shallow as cold drops of sweat glided down his temple. He dropped his gaze, trembling before he could find once more the necessary strength to Occlude. Dumbledore frowned, breaking eye contact as he leaned back in his armchair.

‘Who are you?’

Dumbledore’s voice was quiet and polite, but it still concealed an unspoken threat. He was giving him the chance to explain. Severus gave him a feeble nod, his throat feeling strangely dry when Dumbledore encouraged him to speak. Merlin help him, he was pathetic, he thought with shame. He closed his eyes, wiping the sweat from his face, hating himself for shaking. This would not do. Dumbledore… Lily… he needed to get a grip on himself if he wanted to survive. He wasn’t a child.

Severus took a deep breath, forcing himself to regain some form of lucidity.

‘I am Severus Snape’ he said; his voice betraying a hint of annoyance as his black eyes bored into Dumbledore’s, daring him to question the truth of his statement.

Dumbledore stared at him, his frown growing more pronounced.

‘You are no student. Your level of Occlumency is far too advanced. I’ll go as far as to say that I don’t believe I’ve ever seen anything like it. If I were to make an educate guess, judging by what I’m sure was an instinctive reaction, I would dare say you have been using the Mind Arts for far longer than most of my students have been alive. How did you get inside this school?’

And there it was again, the unspoken threat; Merlin help him if Dumbledore thought he was going to hurt his precious students.

‘I am not lying, I am indeed Severus Snape, but you are correct in assuming that I am no student’ he replied, painfully aware that he was starting to try Dumbledore’s patience; indeed, he briefly wondered whether this man would be as forbearing as his older counterpart had been.

‘An obvious contradiction. Alas, it is a quite a powerful charm you are using to alter your appearance’ Dumbledore said coldly, seeming staring right through him. Severus grimaced, his mouth thinning.

‘A precaution to avoid cumbersome questions. I believe you can easily remove it, Headmaster, though I must warn you, you will find yourself most disappointed if you comply’ he said bitterly.

Dumbledore hesitated for a moment, seemingly taken aback by Severus’ compliance; then he raised his wand. Severus pursed his lips, Dumbledore’s spell hitting him like a bucket of icy water. His skin prickled, but he forced himself not to move, waiting for the powerful magic on his neck to creep away from his skin, unveiling the horror lying beneath it.

For a moment Dumbledore did not speak, his eyes shining with something akin to pity.

‘That is quite an interesting scar, Mr. Snape’ he said at last, laying his wand on the desk, his long fingers stroking his grey beard.

Severus grimaced, rubbing the mangled flesh, his lips twisting with revulsion as his fingers touched the scars. Blasted snake, he thought, not wanting to think for how much longer the sound of his torn flesh would plague his dreams. He glanced at Dumbledore’s wand and shivered. Because there it was, the cause of his death: the Elder Wand an object that had never been his, that he had never possessed. Severus wrenched his gaze from it and forced himself to meet Dumbledore’s eyes.

He looked warily at the old wizard. He knew that having silently cast more than one spell at his body, Dumbledore was now ready to listen. With a brisk movement of his wrist, Severus caused the blasted scar to disappear, feeling instantly better as Dumbledore cast his eyes away from it. Worry and pity; he’d always hated both.

‘An interesting scar, indeed. One I cannot say I survived’ he said darkly, his eyes wandering once more to Dumbledore’s wand.

His face paled. Had he known? Had he known he would be killed for it? Severus’ stomach twisted in a knot, the reminder of how much Dumbledore had kept from him leaving a bitter taste on his tongue.

“… you do not trust me”

“It is not a question of trust… I prefer not to put all of my secrets in one basket, particularly not a basket that spends so much time dangling on the arm of Lord Voldemort”

“Which I do on your orders!”

Severus’ jaw clenched, his lips thinning as though he had just swallowed something sour.

‘If you would allow me’ he said, gesturing to the small cupboard at Dumbledore’s right, wanting nothing more than to leave that cursed place.

He hated the way Dumbledore was looking at him, blatantly unaware of how much he’d wronged him, he hated that he had to do this and he hated himself for being alive.

Dumbledore gave him an imperceptible nod, so Severus walked towards the cupboard, kneeling beside it. He could feel Dumbledore’s eyes on his back. Taking a deep breath, he opened the cupboard doors, the blinding light coming from the shallow stone basin causing him to narrow his eyes.

If Dumbledore was surprised to see how familiar Severus was with the location of his most precious possessions, he did not show it; but he merely nodded when the younger wizard carefully took the Pensieve in his hands, resting the precious object on the polished table on his left. Severus occluded, unnerved by Dumbledore’s gaze, suppressing his emotions until even his annoyance stared to fade away.

‘May I?’ Severus asked, his cold eyes resting on Dumbledore’s. The Headmaster was frowning, looking intently at him, his expression as serious as his. There was a moment of silence then, Fawkes let out a soft chirp, his black eyes glistening as he stared curiously at Severus.

Dumbledore inclined his head, Fawkes’ peculiar behaviour and calm demeanour in his presence not going unnoticed to his attentive eyes. He considered Severus for a few more moments, then he gestured to the Pensieve, inviting him to proceed.

Severus stared at the tiny ripples crossing the shimmering liquid inside the basin, his expression darkening. He sighed, closing his eyes as he pushed his dark wand against his temple.

‘I believe, I have come across a bunch of information you will find most useful, Headmaster’ he said.

When Dumbledore said nothing, Severus delved deeper into his mind, murmuring slightly as he pressed his black wand harder against his temple. After a minute or two tiny strings of silver thoughts were swirling in the shallow bowl, his whole miserable life staring mockingly back at him, his own head feeling blissfully empty.

Severus straightened up, looking at Dumbledore, his young face illuminated by the shimmering light of the Pensieve. Dumbledore frowned, tapping one long finger on the wooden desk, his eyes looking somehow darker as he stared at the shimmering memories, the Dark Lord’s face and his own swimming to the surface.

When Dumbledore made no sign to stop him, Severus walked towards the door, lingering on the threshold, black strands of hair obscuring his face.

‘I believe you know where to find me, Headmaster. I expect you will have questions’ he said; and without waiting for an answer, he walked away from his former office, the sound of the closed door echoing behind him as he left.

Chapter Text

‘Morning, Marlene’ Lily said, a warm smile plastered on her face as she greeted her friend, her nasty words towards Severus long forgotten. Marlene blinked, a wary look crossing her sleepy face, but Lily merely shook her head, unable to find a shred of resentment towards the other redhead.

‘Why are you in such a good mood?’ Marlene inquired, not daring to believe she would just silently forgive everything that had transpired between them. Lily shrugged, the conversation between her and Sev too private for her to share with any of her other friends, no matter how much Mary had nagged her in the past few days, her inexplicable happiness failing to go unnoticed by the attentive Muggleborn.

Well… it wasn’t as though Mary and Marlene would ever believe Severus’ change to be genuine anyway. Unlike Lily, they wouldn’t think much of the fact that not once since that night she had caught him seeking the company of those horrible boys. They’d think nothing of his polite and respectable behaviour.

She loved both Mary and Marlene, but quite frankly she was tired of listening to their prejudiced rants. She was tired of hearing why Severus Snape, as any other member of his House for that matter, could not be trusted. She did not want to listen to their spiteful words about him, she didn’t want them to call him a horrible person, because for the first time in months, Lily felt confident in her decision to trust him again.

She smiled, her mind drifting back to the night he had escorted her back to Gryffindor Tower, acting like a real gentleman. It had been an awkward walk until, unable to bear the silence any longer, Lily had offered him a timid smile. Severus had quickly averted his eyes, a dull blush creeping up his sallow cheeks when she had complimented him on the states of his robes, impressed by how much he had managed to fix them and secretly glad he had finally decided to learn a skill that didn’t have anything to do with Dark Magic.

Lily nodded to herself, remembering how quickly he had finished his homework the other day or how helpful he had been, his suggestion to include both species of Gillyweed in her essay earning her an extra mark. Yes, Sev was brilliant and even more so, because he would never join the Death Eaters. Her smile widened, until all of a sudden, Lily found herself beaming.

‘Now, what are you not telling us, Lils?’ Marline said, a wolfish grin finding its way across her freckled face.

She blinked, Marlene’s odd expression calling her back to the present moment. She frowned in confusion, noticing that Mary too had turned to face her, her heavy school bag slowly falling back on the bed as she paid it no notice. The two girls exchanged a meaningful look, a mischievous smile threatening to break through their lips.

‘Come on, Lils, who did you shag? Mary and I had been meaning to ask what happened on Tuesday night. He must’ve been good, you’ve been smiling ever since. Come on, no need to be embarrassed, it’s just us. Besides, it’s normal to be in good mood, when you-’, Marlene could not finish, because a second later, Mary set off in an uncontrolled round of giggles.

Lily’s eyes widened, her face flushing scarlet as she finally understood what they had thought she had done the night she and Sev had talked about Death Eaters and lost trust. That was why they had been giggling behind her back the following morning and the day after, they had thought she…

Lily lit up like a Christmas tree, her eyes darting between Mary and Marlene.

‘Go on then, we want all the juicy details’ Marlene said eagerly, leaning forward as she whispered the last words, as though she had not just been shouting a moment before. Lily’s eyes darted to Dorcas, her face becoming even redder when the tall girl merely raised an eyebrow, shaking her head before turning back to minding her own business.

Lily looked back at Marlene, growing uncomfortable. She wanted to tell them that nothing had happened, that she had spent some quality time with her best friend, but as soon as she opened her mouth to reply, she closed it straight away. God knew what they’d think about that. They’d probably assume she had just… shagged… Sev of all people.

Lily flushed. Sev… Sev was her friend, he wasn’t…. She averted her eyes, trying to imagine how he’d look at her if he knew what her friends were implying. He’d probably be embarrassed if not downright annoyed by their obscene thoughts about him. In fact, judging by how much he had been glaring at a particularly passionate couple of lovebirds the other day, she would’ve said he seemed to have little patience for those things. It would’ve been funny hadn’t he always been nothing short of unpleasant whenever he saw her smiling after receiving a particularly nice Valentine card.

Mindless idiots, he had once called them. And despite having been willing to defend her admirers, Lily had blushed when he’d told her they all couldn’t have cared less about her personality. She hadn’t liked his unspoken implication. Sev had always been a jealous friend, but judging by what her girlfriends said he might not have been completely biased in his accusations. Mary and Marlene too had often told her that most boy were just interested in shagging at their age, even though, quite frankly Lily would’ve gone as far as to say that that wasn’t something Marlene seemed to mind; she thought, her eyes carefully assessing her redheaded friend.

Lily had only kissed twice. Fabian Prewett had been older than her, tall and charming, and a much better kisser than the sloppy Edward Stevens. It had quickly turned out that the boy hadn’t been after anything too serious, his wet kisses often turning into wetter snogging. She hadn’t liked that; they hadn’t had much in common either. Still, Lily had never had sex and to this day, she still couldn’t imagine herself doing it without flushing. Never mind that she had never exactly known what she should imagine to begin with.

Petunia had always refused to share anything with her and it had been her father who had been required to give her an awkwardly delivered speech about the birds and the bees. He was a doctor, her mother had said, who else could better explain it? Needless to say, that even from the perspective of a thirteen-year-old girl, her father’s explanation had seemed lacking.

“I’ll tell you when you’re older” her had reassured her when, at the end of his speech, Lily had opened her mouth to ask more prodding questions.

Petunia had looked outraged when she had asked her, hastily saying that a respectable woman didn’t need to know anything more than what her father had told her. Thirteen-year-old Lily hadn’t really wanted her older sister to think she wasn’t respectable, no more than she already did at least, so she had quickly stopped asking questions.

Later on, only Marlene had been eager to share with her roommates some juicy details; but despite being undeniably curious Lily had tried to convince herself that it wasn’t right for her to listen. Alas, despite her best efforts, sometimes she had found herself lingering on their room’s threshold a little longer, the lack of information that came with a slightly conservative upbringing preventing her to leave.

Marlene’s excited tales of rough sex in the broom closet and passionate kissing had been a far cry from her father’s scientific and dry explanations. She’d wondered what they’d said if Lily did something like that.

‘Come on, Lils! Who is he? For poor Mary and James’ sake, better not be Sirius’ laughed Marlene, rolling on her back when Mary’s eyes snapped on Lily’s, her face suddenly alarmed.

It was enough for Lily to forget Marlene’s implications and crack a smile, glad not to be the centre of everyone’s attention. She shook her head, struggling not to laugh when Mary looked not only deeply offended, but also started to glared at Marlene, her eyes narrowed in warning.

‘If you say one more word about it, Marlene’, Mary started, ‘I swear I’ll…’, Lily ducked, just in time to avoid the pillow meant to hit Mary, which hit Dorcas instead. There was a moment of silence, then Marlene fell back on her bed, not even bothering to keep herself from laughing.

Dorcas smirked, her eyes gleaming as her fingers closed around the pillow. Marlene barely had the time to realise what was happening before the unfortunate pillow hit her straight in the face.

‘Oi!’ Marlene said, hiding behind her bed when she spotted the evil grin on Mary’s face, her pillow held fiercely in her hand as she prepared herself to take her revenge on Marlene.

Dorcas and Marlene exchanged a look and before she knew it, Lily found herself in the middle of a pillow fight, the sound of their happy laugher echoing in the stone walls of Gryffindor Tower.

Too tired to remember what sort of torture he would be subjected to that morning, Severus walked toward the Great Hall exit, unfolding the small timetable he had just withdrawn from his worn pocket. He read it, his lips thinning as his eyes fixed on the first period: Transfiguration.

Before he could stop himself, he turned around, his heart beating a little faster when his eyes fell on Minerva McGonagall. She was talking to Dumbledore, both looking years younger than when he had last seen them. He scowled.

As it was, Transfiguration turned out to be another slow form of torture for Severus, a cacophony of sounds he’d always been glad had had no place to exist in the Potions classroom. He stared at the struggling students around him, their tongues caught in between their teeth as they tried to vanish a matchbox. He hadn’t even bothered vanishing his own. He scowled, his eyes drifting to the row of desks at his right, where Lily was sitting, the cacophony of Evanescos echoing around him already giving him a headache.

There was no point in him “trying” to perform a number of spells that he had long since learnt now that she wasn’t looking, for the previous days Lily had not been pleased to see him scowling at the idea of completing his homework. The situation would have been almost funny, her concern for his academic performance touching, had he not been a teacher, his former profession making him wonder whether he had not ended up in a new circle of Hell, studied specifically for him.

He had been a spy for seventeen years, but for some strange reason the idea of his colleagues watching him “struggle” to complete their assignment was simply unacceptable. He wondered what Minerva would think of him if she knew what he was now forced to do to keep appearances. He could already see her struggling to keep herself from laughing, the whole ordeal added with his boyish appearance quite amusing for a woman who had shared his same duties for seventeen years.

Severus stared at the much younger Minerva in front of him. She was not smiling as she looked at him, her mouth setting in a hard line when her eyes fixed on his very solid matchbox. She walked towards him, looking down at him with an expression of utmost contempt. Severus scowled at her silent warning, resisting the urge to sneer as he drew his wand, vanishing the matchbox before her eyes. She blinked, her eyes widening slightly, a reaction that left him torn between amusement and displeasure.

Surely if Miss Granger could perform most of her spells at the first attempt, then so could he, he thought, his lips twitching.

‘That does not excuse you from practising, Mr. Snape. Three points to Slytherin for an excellent display of magic’ she said sternly, walking around the classroom to examine the work of her students.

Mulciber sniggered, smiling at him before he seemed to realise they were no longer “mates”. Severus noticed that Mulciber had gone as far as giving him the thumbs up, Rabastan Lestrange looking disgusted as his cold eyes rested on his fellow pureblood, his behaviour embarrassing them all.

Severus sighed, his eyes following his former colleague as she returned to her desk, sitting in the heavy armchair behind it. She stared at the pile of unmarked essays in front of her, her forehead crinkling as she began going through it, her fingers moving through the pages until she seemed to find what she was looking for. She gave him a sharp look, then she dipped her quill and started to read.

Severus’ mouth thinned. Did she expect him to vanish matchboxes for the whole day? What a waste of time, he thought, crossing his arms as two more matchboxes appeared in front of him. Severus huffed, vanishing them both with a quick flick of his wand. He scowled at his empty desk, only to notice that two rows of desks behind Lily, Potter was seething.

Had he not been foolish enough to allow the boy to follow him that night, placing his and his friend’s life in danger, he would have found it harder not to smile, but as it was, Severus merely raised an eyebrow at him. Potter’s jaw trembled with fury as his eyes darted from Severus’ face and wand to the desk where he had just vanished the matchbox.

But of course, Severus thought, sneeringly. He had forgotten that Transfiguration had been the boy’s favourite subject, he and his friends being illegal animagi and all. Well, well, he thought, his eyes gleaming with amusement as Potter tried to repeat what he had just done, his face reddening as he stubbornly tried to vanish two matchboxes at once, the fight so unfair that after a few minutes Severus found himself annoyed by his own pettiness.

He heard Minerva sigh, their eyes meeting for the briefest of seconds before she flicked her wand in his direction. Severus froze, raising his own before he realised that she had not wished to attack him, her spell hitting the wooden surface of his desk. He blinked as a white kitten appeared before his eyes. He looked at Minerva, confused when she raised both her eyebrows at him.

‘You may want to continue practising, Mr. Snape. That kitten won’t vanish on its own’ she said, her voice neither kind nor unpleasant, her expression telling him that he was in no position to refuse.

Severus scowled, his eyes drifting to the mewing animal in front of him. He could feel that some students had stopped chanting their spells, turning their heads to look at him, some of them surprised, some of them irked by the fact that he had been allowed to move to the upper stage.

‘Professor, may I have a cat as well? I can do it, the matchbox is no challenge!’ James Potter said, a note of urgency in his voice as he looked hopefully at his favourite teacher. It was a clear sign of his Head of House’s fondness for him the fact that her sharp eyes softened a bit as she looked at him.

‘Well, evidently it is Mr. Potter. I’m afraid you’ll have to learn how to vanish two matchboxes before moving to creatures’ she said gently, the corner of her lip pulling upwards.

Severus’ mouth thinned, the harshness of her gaze not at all lost to him as her eyes drifted back on him. Similarly to Dumbledore, Severus had nearly forgotten the look of disappointed that she’d always have in her eyes whenever she looked at him. He wondered what they’d said about him in the Staff room.

Severus frowned, his eyes drifting back to the white kitten, the cat blatantly ignoring his glare. He would have to wait at least until seventh year before he’d start to find any form of revising remotely interesting. He sincerely hoped that Dumbledore would put him to some use before then. He could already feel his mind wasting. Severus sneered, stiffening when he realised that the kitten was now moving closer to him, unsteady on its four legs. He gave it a warning look, but the cat did not seem to understand, instead it started to nuzzle his wand, looking at him with its big blue eyes.

He leaned back in his bench. It would not do for him to vanish it at the first try, he thought, his eyes darting across the room, but only James Potter and Lupin were staring at him. It was the faint sound of sniffing that caused him to turn once again towards his furry assignment. Severus blinked, the kitten standing less than an inch from his ugly face, sniffing his nose. He did not move as the cat inched even closer, until all of a sudden it licked his nose. The sound of laugher hit him like a tidal wave, his face twisting in a fit of rage and fury as he vanished the kitten.

He wiped his nose, his cheeks flushed in embarrassment as he turned towards Lupin and Potter, Black and Wormtail’s laughs quickly joining their friends as Potter retold the tale in their ears.

He gritted his teeth, his fingers trembling as his eyes darted to Lily, desperate that she might’ve seen the whole scene. But she was merely scowling, a frown etched on her face as she eyed Potter with great dislike, apparently oblivious that they had once again managed to make a fool out of him. He never noticed that a third person had witnessed the scene; Minerva McGonagall’s gaze was still focused where the cat had vanished, her eyes clouded by dark thoughts.

‘Look at that Padfoot, it’s Snivellus our new Transfiguration prodigy and vanquisher of kittens! I wondered how he did it. Dark Magic if you ask me. Shall we show him what happens to people who cheat? I wonder what Evans would have to say about it’ Potter sneered; his wand held arrogantly in his hand as he approached him.

Severus huffed, their appearance unsurprising. He had been expecting it, the sight of Lily waiving at him at the end of the class enough for Potter to pull another ridiculous stunt. How very predictable. Their invasive map barely gave him any peace these days, no matter whether it was the father or the son the one using it, Severus thought, eyeing the old piece of parchment protruding from Potter’s pocket.

No wonder Lily had thought him paranoid whenever he had accused Potter of following his every movement. At the young age of sixteen he had not known about the bloody map; she hadn’t known about it, the idea that he had people following him wherever he went, day and night, sounding ridiculous to his own ears.

His expression darkened. He should’ve confiscated it when he had had the chance, the memory of Lupin removing it from his hands causing him to swallow his own bile once more. Had he brushed the surface of Lupin’s thoughts he would’ve known exactly what it was. Had he confiscated it when he had had the chance, Harry Potter would not have been able to recreate it, he would not have been able to use it as his father had against him.

Severus scowled, his eyes resting on Potter Sr., the boy who had come back from the dead to torment him with school grades and hexed broomsticks.

‘I mean, I don’t like cats, but I mourned the poor thing, it probably died from grease’ Black barked, earning himself a laugh from Wormtail.

Severus’ lips twitched.

‘Humour me, Black, did you chase yours before you vanished it?’ he said, his voice delicately veiled with irony.

Potter’s face whitened, the colour draining from him as silence fell between them. The three boys looked at each other, Black being the first one to recover, his hands closing into fists as he took a step forward, attempting to physically threaten him.

‘What did you just say?’ he said, his teeth bared as he pointed his wand at him.

‘Careful, Black. My patience with you and your little friends is running quite thin at the moment’, Severus snarled, ‘I will not be followed around by a gang of baboons. I wish to be left alone and that would be it’ he finished curtly, his voice barely more than a whisper.

‘We don’t care about your wishes, Snivellus. We still need to pay you back for our brooms. Dorcas should’ve hexed your balls off. That is, if you even got a prick in those dirty pants. Shall we take a look, Padfoot?’ Potter said with a nasty grin on his face. ‘Petrificus Totalus’ he yelled, pointing his wand at him, a spark of red light coming out of its tip.

Severus blocked the spell without effort, his hand moving so fast that Potter barely had time to blink. The boy fell back, his eyeglasses askew when he launched himself forward, his furious expression quickly replaced by one of horror when his next spell faded into thin air. Black’s head jerked towards him, the wand held high in his hand as he joined his friend with a yell, their simultaneous spells hitting his shield charm with such force that they ended up knocked off their feet.

Severus eyed them coldly, his face contorting in an angry snarl as he moved closer, crouching beside them, his eyes quickly darting to Wormtail’s trembling form. Potter groaned, struggling to breathe, his hazel eyes widening with fear as they fell on Severus’ thin face. Severus’ expression did not change, his eyes burning with fury as he pulled the front of Potter’s robes, forcing the boy to look up at him.

‘You’ll find that I do not like to repeat myself, Potter. Now, I will make myself very clear, attack me again and the next time you will find yourself very sorry. Very sorry indeed’ he said coldly, his face just a mere inched from Potter’s, the boy’s eyes burning with shock and anger as he let go.

Lily gathered up her books with a smile, the sunny weather outside perfectly reflecting her bright mood. She had just met with Loretta, the Hufflepuff girl looking more than pleased with Lily’s decision to share her notes on the Wit-Sharpening Potion. She had thought that Sev would be angry at her for telling him that she had promised Loretta to help her that evening. After all, he had always been a bit possessive, she thought, biting her lower lip. And yet he had once again surprised her, merely nodding.

He’d told her not to worry and that he would see her later. She smiled; yes, he definitely seemed to have become more mature and it was almost too good to be true. She had only wanted him not to join the Death Eater, never in her wildest dreams she would’ve expected him to change like that, let alone stop hanging out with his friends all together. And yet…

Lily’s smile seemed to waver slightly as she remembered him sitting alone at the Slytherin table, guilt building up in the pit of her stomach. She shifted on her feet, slightly uncomfortable. What was he doing when he was not with her? It couldn’t have been a coincidence that whenever she had looked at him in that past week she had found him standing alone and in silence. He had never been a social butterfly but he had talked to his housemates, there had been other Slytherins beside Avery and Mulciber he had talked to, boys that hadn’t shown any signs to be blood supremacists.

Lily fidgeted with the shoulder strap of her bag, not even looking at the students she crossed path with, the school almost deserted with the sun shining outside. Why would he ignore their attempts at making conversation like that? Was it because of Avery and Mulciber? Or had he misunderstood what she’d said when she’d told him how much she despised his Slytherin friends? Certainly, he couldn’t really think she’d meant all of them…

Lily positively cringed at the thought that he’d believe she’d want him to live his life completely alone and friendless. God, what sort of person would ask someone to do something like that? How could he believe that someone who cared about him might actually relish in his misery? He didn’t really believe she was that horrible, did he? Lily grimaced, no wonder why he had drifted away from her, who would want a friend that was that controlling?

Never mind that he had been the one who had often gotten angry about the idea of sharing her friendship, being more often than not spiteful and jealous, thinks were different now, Sev had… changed, Lily thought, for some reason a bit uneasy. She shook her head, ignoring the strange feeling that seemed to have set up in the pit of her stomach, something inside her still telling her that no one could change like that in a couple of nights, no matter how much the people around them wanted them to.

Lily took a deep breath, casting her worries to the back of her mind as she proceeded down the corridor. Sev wasn’t evil and neither was she. She would tell him that she wanted him to be happy, then she would look him in the eye and realise that nothing was wrong with him and that his change was nothing but genuine. She really didn’t want to lose him, not now that she was starting to remember why she had become friends with him to begin with.

‘Hey, Evans!’

Lily startled, the note of urgency in Potter’s voice causing her heart to faltered. And yet, she did not turn around as she soon remembered the reason why Potter wished to talk to her.

‘Evans!’ he called again, this time louder. Lily’s cheeks reddened in embarrassment. People nearby were now looking at them, some of them unable to hide their own amusement, some of them going as far as to snigger when she started to walk as fast as her legs would carry her. Why couldn’t he take no for an answer? Marlene must’ve told him how she felt in regards to his continuous harassing.

‘No, Evans, please… wait!’ the boy shouted, nearly knocking her down when she stopped midtrack, her face flushed in anger when she turned around to glare at him.

If looks could kill, Potter would’ve been long since dead, but as it was, Lily found herself questioning whether the arrogant boy had even noticed her annoyance. Lily’s mouth thinned as she tried to convey the message with her gaze alone, but again, Potter ignored her, brushing the dust off his robes and adjusting his glasses, his scruffy look giving the impression that he had just ran half the school to catch up with her.

Her eyes involuntarily wandered to the smile on his lips and the way his eyes softened as they rested on hers, his skin slightly tanned by the many hours spent practising. She’d be kidding herself if she told Marlene she found him ugly or that she could not see his good qualities. And yet, despite his charm, his obnoxious knack for bullying was enough to make her sick. He could’ve been much better than that and yet, contrary to Sev he was so arrogant that he never seemed to wonder whether his bullying did not make him worse than the people he harassed.

‘I’m not going to Hogsmeade with you, Potter. I’m sorry, but I already told Marlene. I’m not interested’ she said, the nature of her previous thoughts causing her to sound more tired than angry.

Potter opened his mouth to reply, then closed it without speaking, looking as though he had expected anything but that.

‘The date?’ he repeated, ‘Oh, never mind that, we can discuss it later if you want, that’s not why I’m here, you see…’, he grimaced, wincing slightly as he rubbed the back of his neck and looked at both ends of the corridors.

‘We shouldn’t probably discuss it here, but… it’s about Sniv- Snape. Something’s happened, something’s different about him and I just wanted to make sure you were alright. Please, I know you can defend yourself, but maybe it’s better if you stay away from him, just until I-’

Lily’s heart jolted; memories of the horrible transfiguration they had done to him the last time Potter had tried to prevent her from seeing him flashing before her eyes. It had taken Madam Pomfrey two whole day to transfigure the raven beak that had sprouted on his face back into his actual nose. She had been beyond angry; the charm Black had added to the transfiguration causing him to caw every time he attempted to talk. Severus on the other hand had been too ashamed to even look at her, trying desperately to cover the huge beak with his hands to prevent her from seeing it.

“What, don’t you like him like that? He’d make a good pet, Evans”

Lily’s face flushed. She drew her willow wand, pointing it straight at Potter’s face.

‘What have you done to him?’ she asked coldly, her voice as hard and unforgiving as her accusatory eyes. Potter blinked.

‘Me?! Easy, Evans, I haven’t done anything to him, I just-’, he took a step back, looking at her as though he was preparing himself to talk with someone unreasonable. Or that was what Lily thought. He took a deep breath, then he messed up his hair once more.

‘I’m meeting up with him, Potter and you’re not going to stop me. And if I find out that you hurt him, that you did something to him because of me… because of your stupid date, I-’

‘Whoa, calm down! I didn’t do anything to him and if he tells you otherwise, he’s a liar! This has nothing to do with the date. There’s something wrong with him, that’s what I’m trying to tell you. Transfiguration was fun until he vanished that kitten without a word! And it’s not just me, have you seen Professor McGonagall’s look? Something’s not right. I think he must’ve done something to himself, he must’ve used Dark Magic, he wasn’t like… like that a week ago. He threatened us and I think-’

Lily’s jaw dropped. She snorted in disbelief.

‘You know what I think, Potter? I think you’re just trying to make him look bad because he vanished something before you did. Sev studied with me for the whole week and has been nothing but a perfect gentleman’

It was Potter’s turn to scoff.

‘Is that why you think he likes to spend time with you? Because of studying? He’s not even that clever, in fact I doubt he even listens to a word you say… he just stares at you like a creep. He must’ve used Dark Magic to trick you, I know he did, he was shit at Transfiguration’ Potter said, nodding to himself.

‘Or maybe he just decided to put more effort in the subject than you, Potter. Severus is very clever. Merlin help me, he’s got his faults but he certainly seems to be a tad less arrogant than you are. Not that that’s hard’ she said angrily, her mind struggling to conceive how anyone could actually be that conceited.

‘Come on, Evans, don’t be thick. You saw what he did in class, I know you did. Since when Snape can do wordless magic? It takes months to master those type of spells, no one can achieve that level in a couple of nights’ he implored her. Lily rolled her eyes, eyeing the watch on her wrist.

‘And so what if he’s done a wordless spell? This is getting ridiculous Potter, you’re just jealous’ she said, grimacing when Potter merely gave her a bitter smile.

‘And what if I am? It’s as though he turned in a completely different person. Have you even noticed how he speaks? It's absolutely ridiculous, he doesn’t even-’

Lily stiffened, angry with herself when her heart faltered, Potter’s words touching a nerve.

‘So?’ she started flushing, her voice a little higher, ‘He’s just trying to be polite, there’s nothing wrong with it’ she finished, a strange feeling of unease setting in the pit of her stomach. She ignored it.

Potter stared at her; his eyes veiled with disappointment.

‘Really? Nothing wrong? Never mind that Snivelly is a slimy odd ball and that he’s never been that cold and collected. Open your eyes Evans, there’s something fishy about it and when I-’

‘You’ll leave him alone, Potter’ she said, casting away those ridiculous worries.

‘Why are you so interested in him anyway? He’s no longer following you, is he?’ she said angrily, unwilling to listen to him any longer.

Potter shifted on his feet, looking for the first time slightly uncomfortable. Lily’s face flushed as she saw him scratching the back of his head, his lips soon stretching in a sheepish smile.

‘Well, he isn’t. Hasn’t been, not recently at least, but-’, Lily turned her head, feeling suddenly revolted as she made to walk away, cursing herself for having ever thought that there might’ve been something serious to discuss.

‘Wait!’, Potter called out, startling her as his fingers quickly wrapped around her forearm in a desperate attempt to keep her from walking away.

‘Let me go, Potter’ Lily said, wrenching herself from Potter’s grasp, who seemed to realise he had gone too far. He took a step back, looking slightly guilt as he showed her his palms in a sign of surrender.

She fought the impulse to rub her wrists, looking at Potter as though she was finally seeing him for the first time, because Sev had been right, he really was a dick. How could she have been so blind? How could she have ever thought that Potter would eventually grow out of his bullying attitude someday? It was all because of that accident, wasn’t it? She had been somehow grateful to him for saving Sev’s life, even embarrassed by Severus’ refusal to be grateful. She’d gone as far as to believe that Marlene could have been right, that maybe there was more to Potter than an arrogant toerag and a bully, but now… well… right now, Potter didn’t look like the selfless hero that had saved someone he hated from certain death, never asking to be thanked.

In fact, Lily doubted she would have even known Severus had risked his life that night or that it had been James Potter the one to save him hadn’t she heard Black snapping at his best mate that they should’ve let him rot in that tunnel, that they should’ve let him die.

“We don’t get to choose who lives and who dies, Padfoot, that’s not how it works”

She had been pleasantly surprised, Potter’s selfless act depicting him in a whole new light. Potter was more than an arrogant bully, but she couldn’t see neither the selfless hero nor the loyal friend now, just a jealous boy, worried he was about to lose his spot as Professor McGonagall’s favourite student. Lily shook her head, her eyes heavy with sadness and disappointment as she averted her gaze, staring at the sunlit corridor.

‘Please, Evans, wait… I…I’m sorry, I just…’, Potter hesitated, biting his lip, his worried expression being the only thing that kept Lily from walking away.

‘I… I didn’t mean to hurt you, I… Merlin, I’m making a mess’ he said, his voice shaking slightly as he ran a hand through his messy hair, looking suddenly anxious. It was only because of how worried he looked that Lily forced herself to give him the benefit of the doubt, her silence allowing him to continue.

‘Right… It’s… it’s about the other night’ he started, the silence that followed his words causing Lily to shift nervously on her feet.

Whatever it was, it couldn’t be that bad, could it? Sev would’ve never done anything too bad, not now that he had made her that promise, not now that it looked as though he had finally stopped meddling with Dark Magic and Death Eaters. She looked at Potter, her heart beating a little faster, but the boy’s nervousness was making him somehow reluctant to continue, the guilty look on his face making her feel like an idiot.

‘Come on, Evans, don’t give me that look. I never said I was a saint, but-’

‘You actually did something to him, didn’t you?’ Lily said though gritted teeth, clutching the strap of her bag, a tight knot forming in her stomach as she realised that this conversation might’ve had no other purpose than preventing her from seeing Severus.

‘What have you done to him?’ she asked, her voice trembling slightly as she made to reach for her wand.

‘Nothing! He was just being odd. Being an arrogant git in Potions and looking down his ugly nose at us … I knew he was up to something, so we waited until the night and then… well, we followed him and woke up in the Library the following morning, hurting everywhere. Filch nearly caught us, but there’s something that’s not right, because he wasn’t where we knew he’d be. I remember seeing his name in the Restricted Section. We followed him right to that spot but he wasn’t there… and if I try to think too much about what happened I just get a headache’

‘Well, I bet the information you had was misleading, in fact, I don’t even think he’s been anywhere near the Restricted Section. We spent all the evening together and he was really nice and-’

‘But he was! It’s never been wrong before. Listen Evans, I know Dark Magic when I see it and something’s happened in there, I know it, I just can’t remember’

Lily’s mouth thinned.

‘And you think Sev was involved? That he Obliviated you? You’ve heard the Professor, that’s something a lot of adult wizards can’t do properly even after graduation, if he’d tried to cast a memory charm, it would’ve either backfired or not worked at all. There’s a reason why they don’t teach it until seventh year, it’s dangerous and difficult to control, it could destroy one’s mind if not done properly. Not even Severus is that good and he would never risk damaging someone’s mind like that, not even if that mind is yours Potter’ she said firmly and there was no doubt in her mind that Severus would never do something like that, not if he thought there was a chance of permanently damaging someone’s mind.

He had never and would never be that careless.

‘He would, but maybe you have a point, what if that’s not Snape?’ Potter said after a while, his eyes boring into hers.

Lily blinked.

‘Excuse me?’ she said, her face flushing as she tried to convince herself that she must’ve misheard.

‘Don’t you think he’s doing a little too well in class? A memory charm and wordless spells powerful enough to knock three people off their feet? He couldn’t even vanish a stupid matchbox last week! I’m telling you that something’s up’ Potter said darkly, his serious expression causing her to finally lose her temper.

‘So you think he’s an imposter because he vanished something before you did? That he’s using Polyjuice Potion? You’re being ridiculous, Potter, stop being so full of yourself’ she spat, her eyes cold and unforgiving as she walked away from him, drawing her wand when Potter grabbed her arm once more.

This time, her look was enough for him to back away.

‘Ok, Evans, maybe he’s not an imposter, but he’s becoming dangerous, there’s no denying it. I’m just trying to protect you; in fact, a little gratitude would be appreciated’ he said looking both tired and frustrated. Lily let out an incredulous snort.

‘Protect me? I’ll have you know that I don’t need anyone’s protection, let alone yours. You have no right to tell me what I can or can’t do’ she said harshly, eying him with the greatest dislike, before she turned her back on him.

‘Lily, please’

‘Don’t’ call me Lily. We’re not friends. I want you to leave us alone. If you care about me one bit, then you’ll respect my wishes’ she said, walking away before Potter could even have a chance to reply.

Severus entered the Great Hall with a scowl, the quick peck on the cheek Lily had given him before telling him she would see him after class bringing him once again to question whether it wouldn’t have been a better choice to cut the act and tell her who he really was. He sighed, sitting begrudgingly on the Slytherin table, not daring to look at Dumbledore, stubbornly refusing to meet his gaze after what had happened with Lily, terrified that he might’ve caught a glimpse of his blushing cheeks.

He rubbed his temples, grimacing, the beginning of a headache pulsing beneath his fingers. What was he even doing there? Playing the lovesick teenager with a girl that was half his age, attending fifth year classes and living as though the last twenty-two years of his life had never happened. He should have gone to Dumbledore and demanded to be put to some use; it wasn’t like him to wallow in self-pity.

He gritted his teeth, his eyes finding the faces of people who should have been dead; simply living their lives, oblivious to the horrors of the war. Marlene McKinnon had died before his very eyes, burnt alive and now there she was, laughing amongst her peers, not knowing that she’d never live to see her twentieth birthday. His eyes drifted to her murderer, now barely more than a boy. Did it really matter that he had not been the one to cast the killing blow? He had been there, he still remembered how she’d looked up after suffering the Cruciatus Curse, hatred in her eyes; her little brother crying in the corner.

His eyes drifted to Mary McDonald, raped by Mulciber; her mind shattered. His eyes found Edgard Bones, his wife and children brutally murdered by the Dark Lord and his followers. Amelia Bones, his sister, had been unable to stand the sight of him, never mind that Severus had never taken part in the slaughter of her family. She’d read his records; she knew what he was, she’d never forgotten what he had been. Her niece had also known of course, her wide eyes often staring at Severus as though he might suddenly turn into a monster; as though he could have ever harmed a student, he thought, lowering his eyes.

He was surrounded by ghosts; so why did they look so alive? He should have been dead, but here he was, reliving his life. A life coated in lies; possessing his younger self’s body, living as a shadow of his former self. He’d had his chance and he’d fucked up spectacularly; he’d never expected to survive, let alone like this.

Severus closed his eyes, grimacing. Despite feeling nauseous, he heard the grumbling of his stomach, this body apparently not satisfied with the quantity of food he had already forced himself to eat. He still remembered the day in which he could easily skip a meal without feeling lightheaded. Indeed, the amount of food this stomach was now demanding of him was nothing short of ridiculous.

Would an excess of carelessness impair his future height were he to fail eating like a swine every single meal? Severus looked at his skinny legs, knowing full well that if in the last period of his life he had been slightly underweight now he was dangerously so. It did not help one bit that he had always had a quick metabolism, his habit of skipping meals always making sure that his body would remaining far too thin. He scowled, thinking that despite having being nine months away from his disgraceful home, his current body looked as though it was still recovering from three months of near starvation.

He grimaced as his mind drifted inevitably to his father. He was still alive, wasn’t he? Living like a pig in what for the last two decades had been no one’s home but his. He pursed his lips. He could almost smell it, the pungent smell of alcohol lingering on the wooden floor, his father sleeping on the dirty couch, stains of food and beer covering his white singlet. His lips curled in a sneer as he remembered the round belly protruding from the hem of it, the filthy undershirt barely able to cover half of it, whilst Severus and his mother had gone hungry.

Severus pushed the empty bowl of porridge away from him, disgusted. Charming man his father, wasn’t he? Severus sighed, getting to his feet, his shoulder throbbing under the weight of his school bag.

Before he could stop himself, he turned around, his heart beating a little faster when his eyes fell on Dumbledore. He was talking to Flitwick, a smile lighting up the lines on their faces. He frowned, feeling older than them both. He was just about to avert his eyes and leave them be when Dumbledore turned his head towards him, his blue eyes finding his in a matter of seconds.

Severus stiffened, his eyes widening as he clutched the strap of his bag. It couldn’t have been longer than a fraction of a second, but it was enough for him to feel as though, once again, Dumbledore had managed to stare into his very soul. They stared at each other for what looked like hours, until the Headmaster gave him an imperceptible nod.

He shivered, relaxing slightly when Dumbledore turned towards Flitwick, resuming their conversation. Severus averted his eyes, hating himself for dreading the moment in which he’d be forced to face this Dumbledore’s judgement once more. He pursed his lips, clutching the strap of his bag so tightly that his knuckles quickly turned white.

Still, he strode towards the exit, feeling those intense eyes on his back, the fear that Dumbledore might’ve witnessed Lily’s innocent kiss filling his heart with shame.

Chapter Text

The library was dim lit and filled with the old scent of books, the only sound to be heard being the soft scratching of Severus’ quill on parchment. He was sitting next to Lily, their desks blissfully away from chatting students.

Lily tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her fingers fidgeting with the red strands. The sound of Severus’ light breathing was strangely soothing after the fight she and James Potter had had. Her cheeks were slightly red, her face flushed with both anger and embarrassment. She worried Sev might notice her foul mood and that this would ruin another perfect evening with him. She sighed, his steady presence helping her to control her anger.

“Is that why you think he likes to spend time with you? To study? He’s not even that clever. In fact I doubt he even listens to a word you say- he just stares at you like a creep. He must’ve used Dark Magic to trick you. I know he did, he was shit at Transfiguration”

Lily huffed, nearly snorting as she stared at her studious friend. How stupid one could possibly be to believe that Sev wasn’t clever? What a bunch of rubbish… as though Dark Magic could be used to complete one’s homework, Lily thought contemptuously. Potter’s theory was nothing short of absurd. She glanced at her best friend, her lips twitching when she noticed he was correcting an old essay, his face looking comically displeased.

‘Whatcha doing, Sev?’ she asked, moving closer as he started to scribble.

Severus froze, turning to look at her. She smiled when she saw him glance at the piece of parchment.

‘I was… making a few additions to my latest- essay. I found some of the information and research in it was … lacking’ he sneered, a wary expression creeping into his eyes as Lily tried to take a surreptitious peak at the parchment in front of him.

He moved his essay imperceptibly away from her, that small movement suggesting he was actually afraid she might read it without his permission and judge him badly for it. He looked slightly embarrassed and awkward; a far cry from the dangerous boy Potter had described. He cleared his throat and moved slightly away from her, his cheeks reddening.

It was a wonder why he would even get self-conscious over showing his work to her, but Lily found herself smiling at his awkwardness; his lank black hair falling over his eyes as he slouched slightly. It was a familiar response; one she had almost forgotten after his odd behaviour in the past few days.

Blasted Potter for making her wary, she thought, her heart lighter than ever as Severus’ lips stretched in what she was sure had been meant to be a reassuring smile. He was so awkward that Lily too found herself smiling.

She stared at his lips, blinking when she noticed the sparse thin hairs growing at the side of his thin mouth.

“Okay, Evans, maybe that’s not an imposter, but he’s becoming dangerous, there’s no denying it. I’m just trying to protect you”

Lily pressed her lips together, holding back a smile. Sev’s facial hair made him look even younger than he was and as far from the dangerous figure Potter had describe as one could possibly be. The sparse hair on his cheeks and chin were barely noticeable, but they were there, thin and black and looking quite soft. His moustache was barely more visible than that of an unlucky Slytherin girl in her year. She wondered whether he was trying to grow a beard to look older and more mature.

‘What is it?’ he snapped.

Lily tried not to look at his lips; his moustache added with his unkempt hair making him look like a grumpy old cat.

‘Nothing’ she lied. She didn’t have the heart to tell him it looked bad, especially considering that Sev was often very conscious about his physical appearance.

‘Do I have something on my face?’ he inquired, his eyes narrowing as he stared at her, his posture defensive.

Lily had always been a terrible liar, and perhaps that was why the intensity of his gaze made her flustered.

‘It’s just… I never thought you’d try to grow a moustache- a- a beard, I mean’ she added quickly, the look of utter confusion on his face suggesting he hadn’t noticed her slip.

Severus blinked several times, his lips parting as his dark eyes set on her; his expression suggested he had no idea was she was talking about. A frown formed on her brow.

‘What did you think I was about to say?’ she asked. She had always known him to be slightly susceptible, but what on Earth had he thought she was about to say?

‘Haven’t you noticed? It’s right there. Well, there’s the- moustache and you also have a few hairs on your jawline and chin, but it’s not that bad’ she said awkwardly, praying she had not offended him.

‘You can’t see it that much’ she said, trying to reassure him, tucking a greasy strand of black hair behind his ear in order to get a better look. Severus went as rigid as a board, eyeing her worriedly as she reached out to caress his right cheeks, surprised to find the hairs even softer than it looked. Severus backed away, jerking from her touch.

He looked mildly horrified as his fingers reached for the spot she had just touched. He pulled his hand back immediately, as though burnt.

Sure, it wasn’t great, but it could’ve been much worse, Mulciber’s boyish moustache made Sev look like a Greek god in comparison. Or maybe Severus didn’t know how to shave. Lily grimaced at the thought. Tobias Snape had never seemed like the caring kind; the thought made her heart ache. Would her dad show him if she asked him nicely? How did wizards shave? Lily didn’t know, but they were bound to find some books in the library.

‘I think there must be some spells that should help with shaving’ she reassured him, giving him a small smile as she started gathering up her books. Severus merely looked at her, for a moment utterly taken aback, before he touched his cheek again and grimaced.

‘I am familiar with the procedure’ he answered tersely, his lips barely moving. If Lily hadn’t known any better, she’d say he looked insulted.

‘It was just an idea…’ she added awkwardly, ‘I mean… unless you want to keep it…’ she finished, her cheeks slightly pink.

Severus gave her a sharp look.

‘I have no intention of keeping it’

Severus walked down the stairs leading to the dungeons, a heavy scowl etched on his face. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, his dark eyes flickering down the dim lit corridor, before he entered the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

Resting his heavy bag on the back of a chair, Severus walked towards the sink, his skin prickling as he forced himself to look at his stupid young face. The dim light cast eerie shadows on the cold, stone walls, and the scent of old soap and damp stone filled the air. He grimaced at the reflection, the boy staring back at him an awful reminder as to why he had avoided a mirrors for an entire week, the feeling of inhabiting that estranged body unpleasant enough as it was.

He raised a pallid hand, tracing his thumb on the right corner of his upper lip, the tickling feeling of his soft pubescent hair causing him to sneer. Severus’ fingers moved from his lips to his sideburns and jawline, just on the spot where Lily’s hand had brushed his cheek. He eyed his reflection with annoyance, grabbing a razor form a nearby cupboard.

How embarrassing. How could his teenage-self have not have noticed? Or had he really thought that pathetic excuse for facial hair would make him look more mature?

Severus sneered. Teenagers, he thought, scathingly. He conjured some shaving cream in his hand, applying it to his cheeks with a scowl, his hair hanging limply at the sides of his face. Merlin, he hated how young he looked. He’d never thought he’d miss staring at his ugly old face.

He scratched his cheek. No, he thought, remembering Lily’s unspoken question, it wasn’t supposed to be “soft”. He’d never have he’d miss the prickly sensation of stubble beneath his fingers, but he did. A beard wouldn’t look good on him, he knew, but the fact that he had never allowed it to grow beyond a scruffy stubble, had never meant he wouldn’t have been able to grow one if he had wanted to.

Indeed, he had actually had to make an effort to maintain a clean-shaven look. The disgusted look Minerva had given him whenever he had dared to present himself in the Great Hall so unkempt causing him to pay a little more attention to his shaving routine. Well, he doubted he’d get something worth to be called a stubble for the next three to four years, he thought, wincing when he passed the razor a little too close to his scar.

Severus rubbed his forehead as the chatter of the students around him grew louder, the excitement for the upcoming weekend, and the Quidditch final giving some students the perfect excuse to be obnoxiously loud at meals. It did not help one bit that he seemed to have landed himself in the past on a Hogsmeade weekend.

He grimaced, remembering that last time he had visited the village. The young woman in the apothecary had looked at him as though she feared he could have easily murdered her on the spot had he been unsatisfied with his supplies. Her gaze still lingered in his mind, a stark moniker of a reputation that had followed him since Dumbledore’s death. Severus’ lips twisted halfway between a sneer and a grimace. How quickly they had all judged him. A rush of repressed anger boiled inside him as his eyes set on the Head of Gryffindor House. How easy it had been for them all to think the worst of him.

His colleagues’ behaviour had ranged from outright hatred and disgust to Slughorn’s nervous glances. They had looked at him in fear, as though a poorly chosen word would push Severus over the edge; turning him into the heartless murderer who had taken the life of a man that had been nothing but kind to him. Between outright hatred or fear he couldn’t honestly say which one had been better. He let out a sigh, the sudden sight of the young Carrows fighting over a chicken leg causing him to grimace in disdain. Amycus’ fingers, covered in grease, were digging on his sisters’ shoulder, her teeth bared like an wild animal.

He stared as Amycus let out a yell, their fight resembling that of two ravenous beasts as his sister’s teeth sank into his arm. How the Dark Lord had deemed it appropriate to appoint such mindless cretins as teachers was beyond him. Those two idiots had punctually failed to complete even the simplest of tasks, their incompetence almost allowing the Gryffindor Sword to be stolen. Severus’ sneer grew more pronounced as the fight continued.

‘Ya stupid wench! Give it back! I saw it first!’ Amycus yelled, lunging forward and grabbing her by the hair, the silverware around them tumbling on the floor with a clatter. Severus closed his eyes, pushing his fingers against his temples. If only he were their superior… the words were on the tip of his tongue; but he looked away. Laughter and cheering echoed off the stone walls, the commotion growing louder by the minute, with people laughing at the Carrows’ idiocy, whilst others looked away embarrassed. He saw with the corner of her eye that Minerva had gotten to her feet.

Yes, that’s enough for tonight, he thought, now determined to ignore his rumbling stomach and leave. His dinner be damned, he would hardly starve for a skipped meal. He was slightly concerned about what Lily would say if she saw him leaving the Great Hall half-way dinner, more so than about being actually hungry. Yes, Lily… he had agreed to go to Hogsmeade the following day, hadn’t he?

‘Oi, Snape, you alright?’ Severus blinked, feeling slightly lightheaded as he got to his feet. A second later, a large hand closed on his left forearm, pushing him back on his seat. He reacted on instinct, wrenching his arm free, his bony wrist hurting as the boy’s hand slid off him. The fact that the boy had just touched him where the Dark Mark had been did not help his annoyance.

‘What is it?’ he snarled, his expression one of utmost annoyance as his eyes set on the sturdy boy on his left. Wilkes’ raised hands caused his eyes to narrow in suspicion. The boy blinked stupidly at him.

Severus frowned, his mind racing to understand why the boy had yanked him back to his seat. Wilkes shrugged, his juvenile response doing nothing to improve his mood. His eyes inevitably drifted to Dumbledore, his mouth contorting in a pained grimace. Surrounded by future Death Eaters and forced to play his part once more… He had made his choice when he had delivered those memories, renouncing once again to a life that he had never been truly his. His jaw clenched, self-loathing crushing him like a tidal wave.

Dumbledore, Lily, Wilkes, Rosier and Mulciber… Why did it matter if he was tired of lying? He had no right to complain. He had killed Lily and given up his life, Severus reminded himself bitterly, glancing at the Gryffindor table. He would see that she lived to see her twenty-second birthday and many more and probably die before the war was over, he considered, the Dark Lord’s inhuman face drifting to the surface of his thoughts.

His face whitened, those inhuman red eyes burning into him, rising from the darkest corner of his mind. Severus shook his head, feeling slightly dizzy as he tried to focus on the present moment, reminding himself that he could no longer leave the Great Hall as he pleased. His eyes rested on Lily. She was the only reason why he hadn’t left this new Hell for good, turning his back to the dark memories those halls seemed to evoke.

Severus caught himself shamelessly staring at her. She looked surreal; even more so than the ghosts dining beside him. A small light in this hellish existence. He stared at her longingly, almost fearing she would soon fade away, that without her he would soon find himself facing once again unfathomable darkness.

‘She’s beautiful, isn’t she? I’d even give it a thought if she wasn’t a Mudblood and… a Gryffindor’ Wilkes added with an expression of mild dislike, ‘Anyway, I just wanted to talk to you. Mulciber wouldn’t stop talking about his hand- not that he didn’t deserve it. Still, I- aren’t you going to finish dinner?’ Wilkes said, pointing awkwardly at Severus’ unfinished steak pie.

Severus’ lips twisted in an annoyance. Wilkes’ fondness for idle talk was something he had not been eager to rediscover. Wilkes stared at Severus’ plate, his eyes trailing disapprovingly down his scrawny figure, his bulk allowing him to positively tower over Severus. He was almost as big as Mulciber, though slightly less muscly and not nearly as stupid. His square face, big brown eyes and brown hair gave him a somewhat approachable look, despite his size he wasn’t nearly as dangerous as he pretended to be.

Severus stared at him and the boy grew slightly uncomfortable under his gaze. Wilkes let out an awkward cough, leaning forward to pull the tray with the Yorkshire Puddings closer to their side of the table.

‘Can you pass me the mashed potatoes? I swear, they’re amazing’ he said, serving himself four fluffy Yorkshire Puddings and promptly drowning them in gravy.

Severus grimaced. Sweet Merlin… and he thought he was overeating…

Wilkes smiled as Severus reluctantly passed him the tray. The boy’s obvious eagerness to stuff himself with the enormous quantity of food was making him feel slightly nauseous. Good, at least that will prevent him from talking, Severus thought, visibly cringing when upon noticing Severus had barely touched his food, Wilkes handed him the potatoes.

‘Mum says, you can’t get tall if you don’t put some meat on your bones and no offense mate, but you could do with a few more stones’ Wilkes said offhandedly, ignoring Severus’ murderous look. Severus had to bite back a snide remark. It hadn’t taken him more than a quick glance to the other boy to realise that Wilkes could have done with fewer stones.

He scowled, but after a moment, he took the tray from Wilkes hands. The boy wasn’t wrong; he could avoid mirrors all he liked, but there was no denying that he was dangerously underweight. Quite frankly Severus didn’t want to add short statue to his physical faults. He had been tall enough as an adult; poor nutrition was probably one of the reasons why he hadn’t grown as tall as that ogre of his father.

He scowled, glad that Wilkes was now focusing on his own food. Pouring himself a glass of water, Severus’ gaze wandered to the Staff Table, his eyes narrowing when they settled on the fine glass of red wine resting in Slughorn’s hand. He could’ve done with a drink. Merlin, two fingers of firewhiskey would have been even better. Alas, unless he Polyjuiced himself into an adult, he doubted anyone would sell him some. Not that the Muggles in Cokeworth would’ve cared, he thought disparagingly, slowly starting to eat.

Next to him, Wilkes was now talking to Yaxley, the older boy scowling into his plate. Severus glared at the two fourth-years seated in front of him, the boys eyeing him suspiciously when he rested his cutlery on the right rim of his plate; as though they half expected Severus to eat with his hands. Good Lord, what now? He thought as Mulciber’s paw landed on his shoulder. He had almost forgotten that the boy had seated himself beside Wilkes, and thus had been listening for the whole time.

A few seats down on the opposite side of the table, Rosier stopped eating, eyeing his cousin with a warning look.

‘I shouldn’t have threatened you in the Common Room-’, Mulciber started, his neck tensing as he voiced the words, the look he gave Rosier making all too clear that his apology was anything but sincere.

‘Teach me that spell and I’ll forget anything happened’ Mulciber said, the silence that followed that statement suggesting that he was now diverting from whatever instructions Rosier had given him.

Wilkes scowled but said nothing, his position as half-blood making his connection with the Death Eaters too fragile for him to openly challenge Mulciber.

‘Answer me, you faggot!’ Mulciber snarled, slamming his fist on the table as he saw Severus wiping his mouth with his napkin. Severus’ eyes slightly narrowed as he saw that Rosier had cast a silent Muffliato.

‘I believe I already informed you of my decision regarding our future arrangements, Mulciber, I do not need to say more. I would strongly advise you to avoid wandering to avoid wandering too close to my bed in the near future. There are spells that could permanently remove your hand, spells I would not hesitate to use were I to discover you are still intent on plotting behind my back. As I said, I do not wish to associate with you any further’ Severus said calmly, his voice cold.

Mulciber visibly recoiled, his lips parting. Severus’ eyes bored into the boy’s, finding his mind unprotected, fear and confusion surfacing in Mulciber’s thoughts as he stared at the bandages covering his arm. But there was something else: fear. And the thought that the person in front of him couldn’t possibly be Severus Snape.

Severus’ mouth set in a hard line, his eyes still boring into Mulciber until the boy finally looked away, his hands balling into fists.

‘Fine!’ Mulciber snapped, turning his attention back to his plate, ‘But if I have my way, I’ll make sure he hunts you down and kills you, Snape. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. You want that filthy Mudblood, I get it, so go on, deceive her. But once we get out of here, you’re both dead’

Severus’ eyes narrowed dangerously, Mulciber veiled threat not going unnoticed to his ears, not now, not when he had promised himself that he would protect her, that she wouldn’t be harmed because of him, because of the wretched choices of his past. He slowly got to his feet, the movement causing Mulciber to flinch.

‘Of course,’ Severus said coldly, his voice dangerously low as he leaned closer to the boy, ‘Just make sure I don’t kill you first’ he hissed into his ear, his voice colder than ice. Mulciber shivered, Severus’ steps barely audible as he walked away, his figure disappearing in the crowd of students as he finally left the Great Hall.

Lily frowned when Severus exited the Great Hall, Mulciber’s furious expression not going unnoticed to her eyes. Her eyes narrowed as she observed the scene, every detail etching itself into her mind- the clattering of cutlery, the low murmurs of concern, and the intense glares exchanged. She opened her mouth to catch his attention, but Severus only gave her a small nod before walking past the Gryffindor table. She quickly checked him for any injuries, sighing with relief when she found no evidence that Mulciber or Potter might’ve hurt him without her noticing.

Her gaze hardened as she fixed her eyes on Mulciber, whose furious expression was making him look more and more like a rabid dog. His face was flushed and twisted, his narrowed eyes still fixed on the same spot where her best friend had vanished. Lily felt a jolt of anxiety in her stomach, more than a little worried as she remembered that Severus would have to sleep in the same room as this horrible boy. She didn’t know how he did it. They said that Slytherins didn’t hurt each other, but she’d never seen the other boy so angry.

And yet, after some nagging, Severus had confessed that Mulciber was just having trouble adjusting to the idea that he would now have to complete his own assignments. Lily couldn’t help but thinking that Severus must’ve left a few details out of the picture. Something must’ve happened. Despite their many faults, Slytherins were not openly hostile with one another; but as of now, it seemed as though things were quickly escalating. He should’ve told Professor Slughorn about the assignment, Lily thought. She firmly believed that Severus would have never agreed to do Mulciber’s homework without some form of blackmail. It wasn’t like him to partake in such shady deals.

But what if he was more than that? What if he had agreed because he feared for his safety? Lily gulped, her heart skipping a beat when Mulciber lounged forward, seizing Alecto Carrow by the hem of her shirt, his yells lost in the loud chatter of the Great Hall. Lily’s face whitened. As unpleasant and beastly as he was with the others, Mulciber wouldn’t physically hurt a member of his own House, would he? Lily continued to stared at him as he shook Alecto, his face beet read as Amycus too started to yell; until a second later Rosier got to his feet.

She didn’t want to nag him, she didn’t want him to think she didn’t trust him or that he needed her to uphold the decision he’d made, but at the same time... she couldn’t shake the feeling that Severus might be hiding something more serious. Would Mulciber try to hurt Severus if he kept refusing to do his homework? If he kept ignoring them like Lily had indirectly implied she wanted him to do? He had told her not to worry, that Mulciber wasn’t dangerous, but Severus could be arrogant and overconfident at times.

Lily grimaced. He might not be as bull-headed as the other boys, but he was still a young man. Much like Potter and all the other boy of his age, he wasn’t immune to the disruptive influence of testosterone. Indeed, from the age of thirteen, Severus had changed a lot and not in a good way. He had become more volatile and short-tempered, and in the past few years, it had become quite easy for him to succumb to his worst nature. Lily had thought things were bound to get worse, until all of a sudden, he had seemed to miraculously realise the wrongness of his doings and had bizarrely become calm and collected.

She smiled a bit in recalling the awkward boy she had seen that very evening. He wasn’t quite the young dignified young man he pretended to be yet. Lily’s face darkened a bit as she thought of her scrawny friend, with his oily hair and long limbs. Puberty had not been easy for him, but despite his he often fluctuated between being shy and short-tempered, Sev was finally growing into himself, and Lily liked the person he had decided to be.

Still, Lily had the distinct impression that despite his outstanding changes, Sev’s stubbornness had remained unchanged. Would he even tell her if Potter put him in danger? A week ago, he might have, just to get the other boy in trouble, but now Severus seldom even looked at Potter.

Lily drew her bottom lip between her teeth, her heartbeat fast and steady. She thought of how guarded he had been in those last few days, and her heart sunk. Did he think he could no longer confide in her? That a wrong word from him would cause her to end their friendship? Well, that would certainly explain why his answers were often short and polite, but...

She should probably tell him how much she appreciated what he was doing, how much she liked the man he was trying to be. Lily averted her gaze, blushing slightly. She should’ve told him to be careful about Mulciber, she should’ve told him straight away that she didn’t want him to isolate himself. Never mind how much Potter had upset her, Sev wouldn’t have sneered at that Wilkes if he hadn’t thought she was watching his every move, ready any excuse to end their friendship.

She thought back to their childhood, the countless hours spent together by the river, their whispered secrets and shared dreams. How could she abandon him now, when he needed her the most? How could he think she would abandon him when he was putting so much effort in showing her that he could change, that he could be better?

That Wilkes didn’t seem half as bad as the others, or if he was, he was careful enough not to show it. He had even tried to get him to eat, something for which Lily was more than grateful considering how thin Sev was.

‘You alright, Lils?’, said Dorcas, giving her a light tap on the shoulder.

Lily looked around, quickly nodding when she felt Dorcas’ gaze on her. The warmth of the Great Hall, the scent of roast meat, and the flickering candlelight created a stark contrast to the cold fear gnawing at Lily’s insides.

The tall girl regarded her with a small frown, the expression in her dark eyes suggesting she had seen right through her small lie. She blushed, scratching the back of her neck as her eyes inevitably drifted back to the Slytherin Table, fixing on the spot where Sev had been sitting.

‘It’s about Snape, isn’t it?’ Dorcas asked, her words sounding more like a statement than an actual question.

Lily couldn’t help but nod, her eyes quickly drifting to Potter as Dorcas spoke, because no, it wasn’t just Sev she was worried about. She should’ve warned him about Potter, because as it was, it looked like not even her own housemates were above bulling whoever got better grades. Lily liked to think Potter was a better man than Mulciber, but the truth was that after Potter’s absurd suggestions, she didn’t really know what to think about the Gryffindor boy anymore.

Potter’s brash confidence and Mulciber’s brute force seemed worlds apart, yet both loomed as threats over her friendship with Severus. Everyone seemed to be against them, nobody could see that Severus was trying. Nobody believed in him, always thinking the worst, always assuming... they never gave him the benefit of the doubt, they never had, even when they had been younger. No wonder Severus had grown to be so bitter.

Would he try to hurt Sev if she wasn’t watching? Could she trust Dorcas with that knowledge? Would Dorcas even be able to do something about it? Lily averted her eyes, biting her inner cheek. She really shouldn’t drag Dorcas into this. She wasn’t half as prejudiced as Marlene, but…

Lily’s eyes fixed on the bespectacled boy sitting at the end of the table, a cold shiver running down her spine when she saw Black whispered something in Remus’ ears. The sandy-haired boy averted his gaze with a sigh, his eyes assuming a darker shade when he looked straight at Potter. She grew even more worried when Black’s mouth twisted in a snarl, his lips shaking when he said something in reply. Nothing good usually followed Remus’ refusal to be a part of it. Dorcas frowned, her eyes following hers.

‘If it’s James you’re worried about, I told him to back off a bit. What he said about pestering your-’, Dorcas grimaced, ‘… friend if you didn’t agree to go out with him was out of line. Even if he doesn’t really mean it. I want you to know that I told him you’d take it quite literally’ she said, her gaze steady and sincere.

Lily’s fingers tightened around her cup, the cold metal grounding her as she fought to control a snide remark that poured out of her in spite of her efforts.

‘I thought you’d all agree with him. You didn’t have much trouble telling me what you thought of him’ Lily said, her voice sounding slightly accusing.

Dorcas sighed.

‘I apologise if I said it too harshly the last time you tried to defend him, but James’ right, he did hex our brooms, Lils, I saw him. Sorry, but like it or not, that’s a fact. As annoying as your little friend is, I don’t hate him. I believe you’d be better off without him, but I’m not Sirius, I wouldn’t like to see him dead. That’s not right. We’re supposed to be better than that’ the girl said, looking her straight in the eyes.

Lily stared at the beautiful girl in front of her, feeling a sudden rush of affection for Dorcas. She was looking at her with a look of understanding, the warm light that lit her deep brown eyes, managing to make her look far less proud and unapproachable than she usually seemed to everyone around her. Dorcas’ sincere words were a flicker of hope in her heart that perhaps, not everyone saw Severus through the same lens of distrust, disgust and hatred. Still...

‘But you don’t like him’ she murmured, her green eyes flickering to the other side of the room for a second as her voice quietened, turning somewhat numb.

Dorcas’ lips twitched in a smile.

‘No, I don’t like him, but I’m not going to tell you how to live your life, Lils. If you want to be friends with him, you’re free to do so. Regardless of what you choose now, I doubt you’ll keep hanging out with him after Hogwarts, you’re far too clever for that. Childhood friends like him... people who have the same views he does... They’re not really what you want to carry in your adult life’ she said calmly, no ill intent in her voice, though her expression significantly darkened.

Dorcas’ eyes were fixed on a spot far away in the Great Hall, a pensive expression on her face.

Lily frowned, shifting uneasily in her seat, before she forced herself to meet Dorcas’ eyes when the other girl looked back at her with a slight smile, her eyes softening ever so slightly.

‘What do you mean?’ Lily’s eyes searched hers, until Dorcas turned slightly to face her, an eyebrow twitching upward.

For a moment Dorcas did not speak, her raised eyebrow suggesting that she hadn’t consider that Lily might fail to grasp the full meaning of what she had just said. Lily blushed, the sceptical look in Dorcas’ eyes causing her to aver her eyes, her cheeks slightly pink as she briefly wondered whether Dorcas was secretly thinking she was being deliberately slow.

Dorcas sighed, eyeing her with raised eyebrows, then let out a mirthless chuckle.

‘Oh, come on, Lils. We’ve got a few years, but you can see we’re going in different directions, can’t you? Marlene, Mary, you and me, James, Sirius and Remus... and people like Mulciber, Avery or Lestrange. I just think... that there won’t be a place for him where

we’re going. It’s not nice to say, and I get that you guys are close, but we’re all gonna have to make some choices soon’ she said, her eyes darkening as her eyes drifted to the Slytherin table, her fingers tightening ever so slightly around her cup.

Lily felt her skin prickle with goosebumps, her throat closing up.

‘Sev’s not like that, you don’t know him like I do’ she said and she believed that, she really did.

“I will not join the Death Eaters, Lily. I give you my word”

She bit her lip. No, he had promised her he wouldn’t join them and she believed him.

Severus might’ve been poor and prone to anger outburst, but despite having a mean streak, he wasn’t evil. And if a week ago she would have probably admitted that he wasn’t above questionable acts to get what he most wanted, things were different now. She trusted him, for she knew he hadn’t been lying when he had made that promise. The thought he might’ve been trying to deceive her was too painful to conceive, but it had been more than just words. It ought to be. Severus had cut ties with Avery and Mulciber, placing himself in danger and proving that he really meant it, that he was willing to chance.

‘He promised me he wouldn’t’ she said, secretly glad that her voice did not shake as she stared Dorcas straight in the eyes. And yet, she hated how naïve her words sounded. She grimaced, briefly wondering whether Dorcas thought her childish. The truth was that the matter was far more complicated than that. Something had changed.

Dorcas’ eyes were nothing but dark and dreary and Lily felt a pang of sadness. Of course, Dorcas wouldn’t trust him to do anything good with his life.

‘And you believe that? You really do?’ she asked softly, then exhaled deeply and leaned back in her seat, ‘he’s ugly, poor and downright unpleasant, but on one thing we agree, of the many things he is, he’s not stupid. That’s why even if you don’t think he shares those Slytherin’s beliefs, once he’s out of school he’s going to use those connections. He’s going to join him, trust me. He won’t give a damn about your friendship when he can get everything he’s missing in their ranks– reputation, money, power’ Dorcas’ lips thinned slightly, her arms crossed under her chest; she sounded both worried and bitter.

‘I worry about you Lily, it’s not your job to save him; men really should stop expecting things like that. You’re a good person; you really are, but he’s not your problem to deal with. Even though, as I said, you’re far too clever to not cut him out of your life before that happens, you need to take care of yourself’ Dorcas said, leaning towards her, her words firm, but kind.

And if that hadn’t been the truth, then why was Mulciber so furious with him? She had seen Severus avoid them, she’d seen him walk away from them, leaving Mulciber furious to the point she was now worried for his safety.

Dorcas wetted her lips, the sceptical look never leaving her dark eyes.

‘You really believe him, don’t you?’

This time Lily did not hesitate to answer.

‘Yes’

For a moment it looked as though Dorcas would not reply, then she got to her feet, her eyes searching hers as she prepared herself to leave.

‘I hope you’re right, ginger. I like you, I don’t want to see you hurt, but sometimes I can’t help but think that you put too much faith in others. People don’t really change, sometimes they just become better liars’ Dorcas said bitterly, her eyes assuming a darker shade as she swung her bag over her shoulder, not another word getting past her lips as she walked away.

Lily looked out of the window, the sun slowly disappearing behind the tall mountains surrounding the Black Lake. The days were growing brighter and longer, the smell of summer getting stronger each day. She looked up, already knowing how much she would miss the bright stars illuminating the sky. Too many people seemed to give them for granted, especially people like Mary and Marlene, lucky enough to live in the countryside, with huge gardens in front of their houses and fields extending as far as the eye could see.

There were no stars in Cokeworth, well, no more than a few. Her part of town wasn’t as bad as Sev’s, but it wasn’t much to write home about. On a lucky day she could catch a glimpse of Cokeworth’s playground from her window. But she could also see the ominous smoking chimney looming on the horizon. Petunia hated them, she had taken her dad’s decision to move there as a personal insult.

Lily neither liked nor disliked Cokeworth. It wasn’t nearly as bad as Petunia made it out to be, but on the long summer nights she missed Hogwarts’ clear sky. Indeed, her hometown could hardly compare with the eerie waters of the Black Lake and the tall mountains that would shine of a hundred different shades of gold during the sunset. If centaurs were right, but if the planets and stars really did give away looming predictions of war, she saw none in the sky.

Lily sighed, averting her eyes from the beautiful sky, Dorcas’ words still playing in the back of her mind. Dorcas had always been quite reserved and a good listener. Lily liked that about her. Of course, that also meant that in five years of knowing each other there was still a lot she didn’t know about her. Personal questions made Dorcas uncomfortable, so Lily had learnt very quickly to keep the conversation light and relaxed, the other girl instantly relaxing in her presence.

She frowned as she remembered the look in her eyes, as well as the whispers of her unhappy family life. Of course, infidelity wasn’t all that uncommon amongst pureblood families, considering the awful amount of arranged marriages, but she knew that Dorcas lived with her mother. She shook her head, slightly ashamed for being so curious. It was none of her business, Dorcas would either tell her on her own terms or not tell her at all.

Severus too, did not like Lily asking about his family. She’d been told that she wouldn’t understand. Her family loved her, they had taught her that the love parents have for their children is absolute and unconditional. Lily had still been very young when, upon catching a glimpse of Eileen Snape, she’d found herself questioning such statement. Of course, Petunia’s increasing jealousy and loathing made her own family life far from idyllic, but Lily still hoped that Petunia would come along eventually. To Severus that had seemed the final proof that she was “too fucking naïve” for her own good. Lily’s lips twitched in a sad smile.

He’d had a dirty mouth, Severus; Lily had listened, captivated by those colourful insults as a child. Every word had sent a thrill down her spine, given her an adrenaline rush; the thought of what her sister would say to her parents making it all the more exciting. A whole new world had opened before her eyes.

Funnily enough, Sev seemed to have grown out of such language. Lily frowned, wondering how on Earth he had managed to completely erase his ill manners in little more than a week. Indeed, most of the time, due to his poor social skill and hot temper, he often tended to snap or be unashamedly straightforward in his speech, barely aware that he was being either insensible or carelessly rude.

As of now, the rude Severus seemed nothing but the product of a strange dream. Lily brought her knees closer to her chest, the clock in front of her reading half-past one. She looked at the starry sky outside. She hadn’t really stopped to think too much about his miraculous change, but…

She shook her head. No, he was just trying to live up to his word and be a better person, there was nothing wrong with it, and…

“Really? Nothing wrong? Never mind that old Snivelly’s a slimy odd ball and that he’s never been that good at Transfiguration either. Open your eyes Evans, there’s something fishy about it and when I-”

Lily pursed her lips, vanquishing Potter’s words from her mind. Between what Potter and Dorcas had said, she didn’t really know what to think. She sighed, closing the book in her lap and getting under the covers. She’d been so lost in her thoughts that she could barely remember the first half of it. So much for a study free weekend.

Lily looked up at the ceiling, a strange feeling of uneasiness enveloping her heart as she fell asleep.

Chapter Text

The Hogsmeade weekend had come, followed by a kind of commotion Severus could have gladly gone without. The students were leaving the Great Hall in disorderly groups, eager to forget any thoughts of their studies and looking forward to filling their pockets with useless objects and sweets.

Severus waited for a particularly large group to free the entrance. He knew very well the chaos that would follow a late breakfast and yet there he was. His mouth twisted in a small grimace. He had taken some time to spell his robes clean and make himself look more presentable; the realisation of having done such a thing and of the reason behind it had been quick to trigger a pang of embarrassment.

This was not a date. So, why did her presence cause him to act no different than the horde of teenagers around him? This was not the first time they had gone to Hogsmeade together. Trying to improve his appearance was both pointless and pathetic. Indeed, the only thing he had accomplished was sparing himself the embarrassment of looking unclean.

He looked around, feeling all of a sudden quite anxious. His heart sped up in the most shameful way when he felt a light tap on his shoulder.

He swallowed hard, catching a whiff of a sweet scent, a scent that was unmistakably hers. She smelled like cinnamon and flowers, a smell that in the course of the years he had come to associate with the brewing of Amortentia. He closed his eyes for a moment and swallowed, wondering whether, upon opening them once more, he would find himself back in his classroom, old and miserable.

He had done his upmost to forget that such scent had once been hers, of course, the brewing of such potion periodically putting in in a foul mood. He shivered, his eyes narrowing in pain, the feeling of her, standing just behind him, evoking a sickening rush of self-loathing.

He took a deep calming breath and slowly turned around. The small smile she gave him caused his chest to tighten all the same. He braced himself as a wrenching sense of guilt took over, followed by the inevitable tightening of his chest. She felt more like an apparition than an actual living being, a fact that punctually left him wondering whether it was mostly joy or pain he felt whenever he looked at her.

And yet he couldn’t help but seeking her company, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. He relished in her smile and beauty, her kindness and warmth having the same soothing effect of water on sharp stone.

And then there were hormones, of course. He was still attracted to her, his body and mind craving the comfort offered by her mere presence, longing for her smallest touch. Was this what it meant to be young again?

It was utterly wrong, but he could not avoid tainting her with his mere presence. Severus grimaced and occluded; his emotions difficult to control without the clarity of mind offered by the Mind Arts. He was still to manage being in her presence with his mind bare of these defences.

‘Morning, Sev’ Lily said brightly and despite the use of Occlumency an uncomfortable look flashed deep into his eyes.

Lily smiled faltered. She had headed to breakfast with every intention of pushing in the back of her mind everything that Potter and Dorcas had said about him, but… She gulped, the absent look in Severus’ eyes sending a cold shiver down her spine. She stared at her best friend’s gaunt face, and to her great shame, she found herself looking for a telling sign that he might not be himself. But Severus looked like he always had, if not for the fact that the dark circles under his eyes were now a shade lighter.

He still looks tired, she found herself thinking. And yet, despite his tired looks, his hair, if still lank, looked clean like she had rarely seen it, the face framed by it as thin as ever, but clean shaved and smooth. He looked… much nicer like this, Lily found herself thinking, a slight blush spreading through her cheeks.

She stared into his familiar black eyes, not even knowing what she had expected to find in his gaze, because those were not the eyes of a stranger. A rush of shame caused her to flush even more. Of course, it was him, what had she been thinking?

Her eyes inevitably shifted on the Gryffindor Table, mortified by the direction of her own thoughts. It did not take her long to find Potter. He was chatting with a group of Ravenclaws at the end of the Gryffindor Table, his arm placed jovially on Black’s shoulder as the other let out a heartily laugh. How could she had given any weight to what he’d said?

She grimaced, her face flushing scarlet when she met Dorcas’s eyes, the glare Lily had sent in Potter’s direction merely causing the other girl to raise an eyebrow. Her heart faltered when she noticed Severus had followed her gaze.

He was staring at Potter now and sure enough, the look of pure hatred that crossed his features had the same effect as a gush of fresh water.

Of course it’s him, you idiot, she thought. She watched Marlene as she whispered something in Dorcas’ ear, a wolfish grin crossing her face when the other girl cracked a smile. Lily took a deep breath, her heart skipping a beat when she realised that Severus was now looking suspiciously at Dorcas.

She stiffened when Marlene gesture for her to come over. Severus’ black eyes bored into hers.

‘If you no longer wish to go to Hogsmeade with me, Lily, you need only say’ he said coldly, his voice instantly causing her to wince.

‘What? I’m not-’

Severus stared at her, a muscle in his jaw twitching when her friends did not desist in their attempt to free her from his clutches. He vaguely registered that she looked uncomfortable, her lips parted in confusion. He saw her bit her bottom lip, mistaking the guilty look in her eyes for doubt, a change of mind she was too kind to voice aloud.

Why had he thought she would spend a whole day with him? She had seemed to enjoy their study section so far, oblivious as she was of who he was, but a whole day in Hogsmeade? His eyes drifted once again to her friends. Friends who were neither reformed Death Eaters nor acting as though she hadn’t asked them to keep away from her more than two decades before. Severus took a deep breath before he looked at her once more.

“No- listen, I didn’t mean-”

“- to call me Mudblood? But you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I be any different?”

He gulped, averting his eyes. She hadn’t wanted him to approach her after calling her Mudblood, if she knew what he had become she certainly wouldn’t have wanted him to be anywhere near her now. What was he even doing here? He should let her go with her friends, people her own age who were not…

‘Sev? Are you alright?’ Lily asked, the obvious note of concern in her voice only making everything worse.

She was still glancing at her friends, her discomfort making quite clear that she would’ve rather stayed with them. He forced himself to swallow, his mouth twitching as though he’d tasted something foul.

‘A trip to Hogsmeade is of little to no consequence to me, Lily. If you wish to go with your friends, feel free to do so’ he said stiltedly, the words struggling to come out of his lips.

She looked taken aback for a moment, then there was relief, that new reaction causing a new rush of discomfort; for he had been right, she did not wish to stay with him. He wondered if she’d agreed to go with him out of pity; the thought alone was almost unbearable.

‘All right, Sev. I’ll go with my best friend; one I happen to be very happy with and whom I have known for quite some time now’ she said with a smile.

Severus gulped, his eyes flashing with bitterness and hurt before he pushed those emotion aside, not trusting himself to speak. He stared at the two girls, a blank look in his eyes, then he looked away. It was only then that he noticed that a third person had caught Lily’s attention: Lupin, he thought, the bile quickly rising in throat when the wolf’s eyes rested on Lily.

‘And who would that be?’ he asked, his narrowed eyes still fixed on the cowardly boy.

This was turning out to be harder than he thought. He could accept the girls, but Lupin… A chill ran down his spine when he remembered the werewolf’s confession that he and his friends had roamed the school grounds at night, too young and stupid to care about the risks. The people they could have killed, Lily…

The sound of her laughter was like a bucket of ice water.

‘It’s you, Sev’ she said, shaking her head and unable to suppress a smile.

When had she come close? Severus thought, her face a mere foot from his own now, her close proximity preventing him from thinking clearly. Why did she have to be so beautiful? He stared at her bright green eyes, gulping, his whole-body tensing when she kept staring at him, showing no sign of wanting to back away. To his horror, Severus felt a rush of blood flooding his cheeks. Indeed, as he slowly registered her words, he suddenly felt very stupid.

‘You know, Sev, for someone so clever you can be incredibly stupid sometimes’ she said brightly, shaking her head when she took his hand, leading him towards the Ravenclaw’s table.

Severus squinted, the rays of the morning sun hurting his eyes as he looked at the clear waters of the Black Lake, the gnarls of the great oak Lily had picked up for a breakfast spot not at all gentle on his back. He grimaced, unable to fully grasp the appeal of having breakfast with nothing above their head but the open sky and a swarming cloud of midges.

He would’ve rather sat on a bench; the thought made him feel strangely old and reminded him that he was nearly forty, his back and neck often hurting from the many hours spent sitting on a desk.

Not that he could complain now; for as much as he hated being young again, Severus did not miss the downsides of having to deal with an aging body and nerve damage.

She had insisted they brought their breakfast outside, telling him that they ought to enjoy the good weather while it lasted. Severus had never particularly cared, his last year of life being so stressful that he’d barely noticed such things. Scotland never got too warm during the summer, but this particular year seemed to have been an exception. He could remember a draught and his father’s rage at his mother inability to conjure water.

‘Hungry?’ Lily asked, the smile on her face leaving him with no doubt that she had heard the faint rumble of his stomach. He did not answer, but he stared at her as she rummaged in her bag and handed him one of the two sandwiches she had prepared.

‘Thank you’ he said, unwrapping his sandwich, the smell of bacon and scrambled eggs causing him to realise for the first time how hungry he was. It unbecoming how unaccustomed this body was to skipping meals and unhealthy habits.

‘I have another one if you’re still hungry’ she said, looking expectantly at him.

Severus raised an eyebrow, the food in his hands still untouched. He was too thin and needed to eat, those were the unspoken words. He huffed, torn between annoyance and amusement.

‘Do you find yourself at the mercy of unruly motherly instincts or is it merely concern that I might not make it to the village?’ he inquired smoothly. Lily’s face flushed, but her lips still twitched in a smile.

‘Sorry… I just thought you might want another one. It wouldn’t be a bad idea for you to try to, you know… eat a bit more’ she said tentatively.

Severus scowled an annoyed look crossing his features, his eyes inevitably drawn to his bony knees, his old uniform shamefully failing to cover his ankles and worn socks. He shifted on the hard ground as Lily’s gaze followed his, the position they were in making him feel strangely exposed.

He said nothing, but as his eyes fell briefly to the sandwich on his lap, he briefly wandered how pathetic of a sight his body might be to her, when compared with the other boys in their year. It had always sickened him how disgustedly handsome Potter and Black both were.

He awkwardly stretched his long legs, the hem of his robes sliding down a bit. But if on the one hand he could no longer see his skin, the sight of his discoloured socks was not helping him feeling any less conscious about his appearance. He was ashamed of the fact that the rags he was wearing were now his best piece of clothing. He’d looked respectable in his robes, his manners and reputation hiding his unfortunate background. Indeed, Severus Snape had been one of Lucius’ most successful pet projects. The Malfoys had taken Severus under their wing and Severus had never forgotten that kindness.

Lily shifted uneasily on her seat, the angry look in Severus’ eyes as he stared at his pallid legs causing her to feel a bit guilty. She hadn’t meant to stare, not really, she thought, looking sideways at him. Her heart filled with sadness when she realised how very thin he was or how self-conscious he had seemed to have grown in those past few days.

She stared at him, her eyes carefully taking in his whole figure. He seemed to have grown quite a bit in those last months, his features looking a bit sharper, his legs longer. How tall would he be by the end of the summer? Would his mother think about buying him a new set of robes? As far as magic could go, Lily was painfully aware that there was just so much one could do to clothes that should’ve been replaced years before.

She turned her sandwich in her hand, the small charm she had placed on their breakfast being the only thing keeping the food from becoming cold. She hadn’t felt comfortable in the Great Hall that morning, the look that Mulciber and Rosier had given them when they had sat together on the Ravenclaw Table still sending shivers down her spine. And then there had been her friends, the Marauder’s glares and her friend’s looks another good reason to look for somewhere nice and quiet.

She looked worriedly at him, the memory of Mulciber’s large hands as they’d closed on Alecto Carrow’s shirt making her worry even more as she stared at her much thinner best friend. Mulciber alone was more than twice his size. She gulped. If they forsake magic and came to hands…

‘Sev?’ she called after a while, ‘Your housemates… they’re not giving you trouble because you won’t… hang out with them, are they?’ she finished, staring at him with unhidden concern as he frowned, taken aback by her question.

‘Of course not’ he said, his voice carefully measured as she looked at him straight in the eye.

‘You know you can trust me with everything, right?’, a pained looked seemed to cross Severus’ features; gone before she could even ask herself whether she had just imagined it.

‘Yes’ he said quietly, his eyes strangely old and weary as he looked away.

Lily took a deep breath.

‘Sev…’, she started again, her heart beating a little faster, ‘If they threatened you, Professor Slughorn needs to know. I don’t trust that Mulciber, he’s dangerous even if you say he isn’t. I just want you to be careful, I don’t want you to get hurt’

Severus frowned.

‘They will not hurt me Lily, their displeasure in regard to my conduct is of little consequence to me. Mulciber knows better than to believe that if he insists with such behaviour there will not be consequences’ he said darkly, his words sending a cold shiver down Lily’s spine.

It reminded her of how he’d almost smiled the last time he’d implied Mulciber was dangerous; as though he, Severus, could be just as bad. And perhaps he was dangerous. Mulciber’s hand had been bandaged and Lily hadn’t wanted to know what had happened; suspecting it had been bad enough. They all said that Severus knew an awful lot of dark spells; he’d told her that his mother had given him his books, that she’d managed to steal some old tomes from his grandfather.

Eileen Prince had never given her the impression of someone who would check whether any of it was a suitable reading material for a child.

‘Just promise me you’ll go to Slughorn if something happens and that you won’t take care of it yourself’ she said after a while, quickly brushing off the thought that Sev might lower himself to Mulciber’s level.

Even if he’d burned Mulciber had, he would not use Dark Magic on another student, not when it could get him expelled.

Severus sighed and a part of Lily had the impression he was barely refraining himself from rolling his eyes.

‘Very well. Should I find myself in any serious danger, unlikely as that might be, I will take the matter directly to the Headmaster’ he conceded, his mild discomfort a clear sign that he had chosen to agree to her request, no matter how begrudgingly.

It was as though someone have just lifted a heavy weight off her stomach. Lily looked fondly at the awkward boy in front of her, her heart lighter than ever.

‘Thank you’ she said, the smile that stretched on her face too wide to be contained as she gave him a hug, his immediate stiffening evoking a hearty laugh.

It did not take long to reach the small village. The main street that winded between Hogsmeade’s peculiar houses and even more peculiar shops was filled with hordes of students. Very much like Diagon Alley, there was something intrinsically magical about the place, something that was hard to describe.

Whether it was its strange shops or the fact that the village was seemingly immune to the passing of time, Lily did not know, but even within the Magical World she’d always thought of it as something otherworldly.

When she’d been little more than a child, she’d often dreamed about asking her dad to drive all the way up to Scotland and showing them both Hogsmeade and Hogwarts. She had never gathered the courage to ask him, Petunia’s persistent looks every time her family discussed the holidays daring her to even mention it.

“A magical village? I bet you’re making it up, like that castle of yours. If there really is such… such a thing then why no one has ever seen it?” Petunia had said distrustfully, the contempt in her voice causing a much younger Lily to flinch.

“They say the founders cast spells to prevent Muggles from finding out where it is”

“But you’re one of them, aren’t you? One of those freaks. So why won’t you just tell us where it is?”

“I- I don’t know exactly where it is, but…”

“If you don’t want to tell us, then stop talking about it! Mum and Dad have more important things to do than drive all the way up the country and look for your magic village!”

Lily scratched the back of her neck, her eyes roaming the streets. Yes, where was it? No one seemed to know; in fact, it had been one of the few questions Sev hadn’t been able to answer when they’d been children. When she’d later realised that no one seemed to be know exactly where Hogwarts was either, smuggling her family into the village had become all the more difficult to imagine. The castle would look like a ruin to them, Severus had told her that, but…

She sighed as she turned towards her best friend, surprised to notice, maybe for the first time, the way he carried himself. She frowned slightly. When had he stopped slouching?

As though he had sensed her eyes on him, Severus looked at her. He looked, if possible, much calmer than he had been in that last week, the dark circles under his eyes a lot lighter now that he wasn’t neither brooding nor scowling. She smiled, she had expected he’d be annoyed, the enormous queue of students that waited to enter in Honeydukes enough to discourage even the likes of her, but Severus was merely staring at her with a ponderous look.

‘If you wish to purchase some gifts for your family, we can come back later’ he said calmly.

She nodded. Her dad loved their chocolate cauldrons and treacle fudges. She could get some sugar quills for her mum and…

‘Why don’t we go to Tom and Scrolls? I might still have some money to get us a book’ she said eagerly, silently praying that her parents had stopped Tuney from throwing every magical tome she had left at home into the rubbish.

She grimaced at that. She had spent nearly all her savings on Goshawk’s Guide to Herbology only to find out that Petunia had had a fit with her dad about what Lily kept in her truck and told him about flesh eating plants and the Devil’s snare.

Severus’ dark eyes lit with a spark of interest. She did not miss as once inside, his eyes briefly roamed to the ancient books section, the spark of interest in his eyes quickly subsiding as he seemed to remember something. Lily bit her lower lip. She remembered how such books had initially seemed a good idea for a birthday present in her fourth year, their prices far more than she could even afford buying.

She’d like to get one for his seventeenth birthday, if she saved enough money and sold some potions, then maybe … She looked at a small book on the creations of the first charms, wincing slightly when the man behind the counter lifted his head from the book he was reading, his pale blue eyes seemingly looking right though her when she gingerly opened it.

It was left unspoken that there were probably not many students who dared picking up those old tomes, she thought, her hands getting a bit sweaty when the old wizard’s eyes kept boring into her. Right, she thought, aligning the book back in its place, fearing that the man might scold her for even breathing next to his precious books. She blinked when the man’s eyes wondered to Severus, his lips visibly thinning.

‘I am warning you, boy. There are wards that keep you from stealing it’ the wizard said, his eyes narrowing as he got up, his gnarled fingers tightening around his cane.

Lily felt her face grew hot, the delicacy with which Severus was handling the books making the accusation nothing short of unfair. The man looked critically at Sev’s worn uniform; Lily’s face flushed. A chill ran down her spine as Severus turned around, his eyes cold as he returned the man’s gaze, his back stiffening.

‘I am aware’ Severus said his lips twitching as he returned the man’s sneer.

The man huffed. He limped towards them, his thick eyebrows making him look like an angry owl.

‘So? Get your hands off that book! That text is in Old English, don’t even pretend you can understand it’ the man said snidely, ‘What are you? A Mudblood or some filthy half-blood? Either way, you have no business being here. Young people, you have no respect for my books!’ he spat, the venom in his voice causing Lily to flinch.

‘I beg your pardon’ Severus said in a low whisper.

The injustice of it all hit her like a wave.

‘He wasn’t stealing!’ she snapped, unable to hold her tongue, the lowliness of the man’s insults causing her to lose any possible kind of refrain, ‘And what does our blood-status have to do with anything?’

The man smiled unpleasantly, the lines on his face growing deeper as his eyes narrowed with barely concealed amusement.

‘Nothing and everything, pretty girl, but in a few years, who knows?’ he jeered, his words hanging heavily in the silence that followed.

Lily’s heart skipped a beat as she found herself stepping closer to Severus.

‘We are leaving’ Severus said, his voice so dangerously cold that Lily couldn’t help but flinch at the sound of it.

She shuddered at the emptiness of his gaze, the hairs at the back of her neck standing up as she noticed that the librarian too seemed taken aback. Before Lily could say anything, Severus opened the door, holding it open for her as they left, the sense of dread she’d felt slowly leaving her as they left the shop behind.

Severus said nothing; but Lily knew him well enough to sense he was furious. They walked for a few minutes with no apparent destination, until all of a sudden, Lily found herself unable to bear the silence any longer.

‘Sev?’ she called, touching his arm gently when he seemed not to hear her.

‘I’m sorry’ she said, without even knowing what she was apologising for, if not that she deeply regretted ever suggesting going to that place. It really wasn’t fair.

He stopped abruptly, the anger that had lit his gaze quickly fading away as his black eyes snapped back on hers; on his face the look of someone who’d been far away. A worried look crossed his features before his face became incredibly hard to read. He sighed, slowly shaking his head, the gesture looking somehow odd.

‘There is nothing you should be sorry for. My clothes are what caused such questions. As I said, it is hardly your fault’ he said and it was only then that Lily realised that his anger had never been directed at her.

Lily looked at his faded robes, hanging loosely over his much too thin frame. She felt a tight knot forming in her throat, the realisation of how quickly people were ready to judge him based on his appearance sitting horribly in her stomach.

‘He shouldn’t have called you that, why didn’t you…’, she bit her lip, for she couldn’t even bring herself to finish.

The Severus she knew, the Severus that had been so interested in Dark Magic and Death Eaters wouldn’t have waited a second to correct him, face flushed in anger. Eileen Prince had been no Muggle after all, it was irrelevant that her name had been the only thing she had had left of her family riches. It did not matter they had been disowned, her blood, as Severus had often felt the need to remind his pureblood friends, had been ancient and pure.

Lily looked at her best friend, where had that boy gone?

‘Why did I not correct him? It would have changed nothing. Men like him believe what they want to believe’ he said harshly, not noticing how Lily’s eyes visibly widen, his words going against everything she knew about him.

He looked so oblivious to having said something incredible that, despite all, Lily couldn’t help but smile.

‘You really changed, Sev’ she said, voicing her thoughts, her gaze wondering to the crowdy streets once again.

She saw him stiffen, a strange look crossing his eyes before his expression slowly became a tad more guarded. She considered telling him how proud she was of him, but she thought she would probably sound a bit stupid if she said it like that. No, proud couldn’t quite cover the enormous relief his promise had caused her or how afraid she had been when she had started to believe it was only a matter of time before he would become everything she feared.

She looked at him, a heavy weight resting upon her heart when she thought about what could’ve happened had he not changed his mind. She stared at the awkward boy in front of her, the thought that such boy could’ve become a Death Eater was almost like a dark and log forgotten nightmare.

Lily shook her head as a worried look seemed to cross his eyes. It was only then that it occurred to her that her words might have not been interpreted as she had intended.

‘I don’t mean it in a bad way, quite the contrary, I…’ she took a deep breath, the thought of how open he had been with her giving her the necessary strength to continue, to confess how much she had truly doubted him, ‘I thought… I was afraid you would never come back to your senses. The person you were becoming, what you wanted to be… I’m not sure we could have stayed friends had you gone down that path’ she admitted, her throat tight.

‘I know’ he said, his voice so low that, for a moment she thought she had just imagined it. She looked at him, his eyes shamefully lowered to the ground.

‘Hey’ she said, her hand searching for his, ‘It never came to that. You’re much better than they all are, you know that, right?’ she continued, her heart much lighter when he slowly seemed to relax, her happiness bringing a small smile upon his lips.

‘I’ll say this, why don’t we just go to eat somewhere nice and then-’, but she could not finish, for the approaching figures of three boys caused her to stop dead in her track.

‘Oi, Evans!’, Severus too froze, his face twisting with such hatred that it was hard to believe that a few seconds before there had been any warmth in his eyes.

‘Potter’ he said, and sure enough there was the sneer she hated, the sneer that accentuated his worst features, all the pleasant changes she had admired in him those last days soon disappearing into nothingness.

Why did Potter always manage to take out the worst of him?

Potter ran a hand through his messy hair and offered her a roguish smile. All the same, there was a hint of worry in his eyes, his posture not nearly as confident as it had been as he sized up her best friend. It wasn’t until he noticed her expression that his smile turned in a grimace. Her back touched Severus’ chest as she placed herself right in front of him.

‘What do you want, Potter?’

‘Just a chat, that’s all’ he said with a smile. Beside her Severus’ eyes narrowed, the unpleasantness of his expression causing Potter to focus wholly on her.

‘And since we’re here, I thought we might as well come to the rescue. You see, not even Dark Magic could make anyone enjoy a day with Snivellus, let alone a precious little thing like you, Evans’ Potter said confidently, his posture suddenly straighter as he fell into the stereotypical role of Gryffindor’s knight in shining armour.

Severus’ nostril flared, his face assuming a dark shade of red as Potter’s unspoken accusation caused his features to twist with fury. He couldn’t help but glance at Lily. He knew how the whole thing would end, whom she’d marry. And yet the mere thought that she might be having seconds thoughts in regards to her decision of spending the day with him, that she might have already fallen for him, for Potter, was more than he could bear.

It was within her rights to walk away from him at any moment, that he knew, but he did not have the strength to say that. Not now that after more than twenty years she was talking to him again, ignorant of all the damage he had done. But Potter was right, at the end of the day, he was deceiving her.

‘Lily, I…’, he stopped, because Lily was now looking at Potter angrier than he had ever seen her.

‘I’m here out of my free will, Potter and we were both very much enjoying ourselves until you came strutting along’ she said, looking at the boy with great dislike as well as what looked like disappointment.

‘Hey! I wasn’t strutting!’ Potter objected, his hand flying once again to his obnoxious hair, his eyes burning with fury as they fixed on Severus. Had he been ignorant of the outcome of the future, Severus would’ve almost smile. The boy was almost wary of him, drawing courage by the fact that he knew Severus would not retaliate, not in front of Lily.

‘You’ll leave us alone, Potter, we already had this conversation. This has nothing to do with Severus’ Lily snapped, taking a step back until her shoulder touched his.

A feeling of warmth spread through his body as he realised she had never had any intention to leave him for Potter, not today, not when she thought him repentant.

Potter’s eyes visibly widened. He opened his mouth a few times before he looked at him torn between incredulity and utter disbelief.

‘Come on, mate, she’s not worth it’ said Black, resting a hand on Potter’s shoulder, ‘Let’s go to the Hog’s Head. I bet this time old Aberforth might close an eye if we-’, but Potter wasn’t listening.

‘But, Evans, what about the date?’ he asked boldly, a hopeful look crossing his features as his eyes fixed on Lily’s, ‘What about Madam Puddifoot’s? Come with me. And as I said, if you don’t like it, we-’

Lily sighed, taking a deep breath as she tried to get a hold on her temper.

‘I said no, Potter’ she said calmly. Had he not just been a jerk to her best friend, she would’ve found herself in a much better mood to discuss Potter’s feelings and his inability to understand the meaning of rejection. She just couldn’t believe how rude he always was to Severus, implying he must’ve used dark magic on her to his face… it was almost sickening.

‘But…’ he started, the confusion never leaving his eyes as he continued to stare at Lily.

‘I’m already going with Severus’ she said; the look of utter horror crossing Potter’s features was a clear sign of how he must’ve interpreted her statement. A date… she thought, some warmth creeping up her cheeks.

She shot her friend a worried look, blushing when Severus’ dark eyes fixed on hers, but it was too late to apologise or to take back what she had just said.

‘You’ve got to be kidding me’ Potter said, his eyes lingering on Severus’ figure before he looked at Lily as though she was insane.

Black snorted. She narrowed her eyes, knowing full well that they were judging him for his appearance and reputation, that they thought Severus was cruel and ugly, that he was a slimy Slytherin and nothing more than that. Why had she ever thought that there might be something good in James Potter?

Lily’s mouth thinned, disappointment washing over her like a bucket of ice water as she stepped closer to her best friend, wandering what would’ve happened had she not been there. All those threats, those absurd suspicions that Potter had about him… What if it was nothing but an excuse to hurt him, to punish him because she had said no to that stupid date?

And suddenly there was guilt and fear, because she might have actually just made everything worse. Professor McGonagall would stop him, she told herself, preparing herself to go straight to the Headmaster, if Potter so much as thought of some kind of retaliation.

She gave Severus a desperate look, praying he would forgive her for having dragged him into this, for he had never deserved to suffer because of Potter’s hurt feelings and pride. He was trying so hard to change path and here she was, fuelling an old rivalry, when he hadn’t so much as said a single word against Potter for a whole weak.

She reached for Severus’ arm, unsurprised when he flinched at the unexpected touch, the situation created by both Potter and her own carelessness nothing short of unpleasant.

‘Bad luck, Prongs’ Black said, but Lily ignored him, her grip on her friend’s arm tightening when, unable to hide his confusion any longer, Severus opened his mouth.

‘Let’s go, Sev’ she said quietly.

He regarded her for a few more moments, her heart feeling a bit lighter when he finally nodded.

Chapter Text

Lily cleared her throat, her cheeks slightly pink when, for the first time in ten minutes, she dared casting a look at Severus. She stared at him, quickly tugging a strand of hair behind her ear, before she averted her eyes once more. An awkward silence had fallen between them after, under the Marauders’ astonished gaze, she had grabbed her best friend by his skinny arm and dragged him in the tackiest teashop either of them had ever had the misfortune to see.

Had she not still been upset by Potter’s words, Lily would’ve almost smiled, the faint sneer still resting on Sev’s lips letting her know just what he thought of the decor. She sighed, her gaze wandering to the flowery tapestry. Frills and bows covered every inch of the shop, the small bell hung above the door tinkling lightly whenever someone walked in.

Lily sat a little straighter as her eyes continued to wander. The place was cramped and crowded; their table small but close to the window. The was a fireplace behind Sev, which looked as though it must’ve been barely used in the past few months. A wide range of decorative plates adorned the mantelpiece, all of them displaying ducks and geese with bows and flowers. It might not have been what she would have gone for, but it looked as though Madam Puddifoot had tried to make the best out of the small space she had been given. In fact, despite it being a bit tacky, Lily quite liked it.

She stared at her best friend, the dark look on Severus’ face positively clashing with the flowery wallpaper, the alarming prevalence of the colour pink making instantly clear to her that such place had not been designed with friends in mind. Sure enough, it hadn’t taken her long to notice that they were probably the only two people, apart from a couple of elderly witches, who were not holding hands.

An exclusive place for couples, something Marlene had conveniently forgotten to mention. Of course, she had heard the name of this place before, but… She blushed, holding the menu a little straighter over her nose, the appearance of two boys making her feel slightly better about the whole ordeal, or at least, that was until she noticed that they too seemed to be holding hands.

She dared another look at Sev, blushing even more. He had told her that he would not mind going inside, setting some of her worries at ease when he had assured her that no, Potter had not threatened him, but… She shifted once again in her chair, feeling strangely nervous, his expression, apart from the obvious displeasure, hard to read.

And yet, as she stared at his dark eyes and unfriendly demeanour, Lily wondered how different things would’ve been if they had entered Madam Puddifoot’s cafe as a couple. She looked at the couple sitting on a table nearby, the girl blushing as the boy kissed her on the corner of her lip, their eyes meeting briefly before a middle-aged witch approached them with a tray in her hand. Lily found herself smiling when they quickly distanced themselves, the boy awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. Madam Puddifoot regarded them with an encouraging smile, moving to the next table as the boy sweetly poured some tea in their nicely decorated cups.

She rested her chin in the palm of her hand, her lips twitching as she realised that Severus too had been staring at them, looking as though he had just swallowed a lemon. His lips curled into a barely hidden sneer as they timidly resumed their interrupted kiss. Lily tried not to laugh as she wondered when he had become so uptight, his ramrod straight posture and contemptuous look suddenly reminding her of Professor McGonagall; since she too did not approve kissing.

She saw his lips purse, on his face the look of someone who was barely restraining himself from saying something. The couple might have been one or two years younger than they were, but his unspoken disapproval seemed almost comical. Her lips stretched in a wan smile as their gaze briefly met, those black eyes betraying a hint of nervousness as he hastened to look away.

Not quite the monster Potter had described. Still, she wondered whether his tension could not be attributed to the fact that he was afraid to be seen with her in this place. She sighed, guilt settling heavily on her stomach. She had no reason to think that. Mulciber’s displeasure had been a clear tell-tale of how little he seemed to care about his friends’ opinion these days.

Severus would never become a Death Eater; he had promised her that and he was actively trying to change. She really shouldn’t be thinking so little of him. She watched him as he stared down his nose at the menu, her lips twitching once more as his eyes darted to the kissing couple.

Once again, Lily caught herself staring at his eyes. She had always wondered how they could be so dark, appearing almost eerie in the dim light. You could rarely see his pupils, the darkness of his eyes making them look completely black most of the time. He seemed to have inherited them from his mother, but contrary to Eileen Snape, even when his eyes had looked cold, they had never seemed completely lifeless. She shuddered, wondering once again, how bad his home life was, for not once in five years she had seen him writing to his own mother.

There had been a letter, at the beginning of their first year, but after that, next to nothing. Sev had begrudgingly told her his father had gone mad upon seeing the owl, the bird ending up injured after the man had thrown a bottle at it.

“He doesn’t like anything, much” he had told her once, with Lily often wondering whether it wasn’t just magic and owls his father disliked. She wondered what Tobias Snape was really like; she had only seen Sev’s mother, but regardless of the few things she knew about him, Lily had never imagined him as a loving father. There was always something dark and foreboding in Severus’ eyes every time they sat on the train heading to King’s Cross station. He would often stare out of the window, watching the wild Scottish landscape turn into green fields, his mouth a little thinner as he returned to their compartment wearing his father’s large jacket and faded trousers.

Somehow, Lily’s smile had always been able to lift some of the darkness off his eyes. They’d make plan for the summer and… Lily blinked.

‘Sev?’ she called, her heart beating a little faster when he stared at her with those fathomless dark eyes.

‘Yes?’ he answered politely, waiting for her to speak.

When was the last time she had thought about asking him to go on holiday with her family? She averted her gaze, ashamed. It had been more than one year, and before he had started to mingle with Death Eaters and Dark Magic. As for this very year, he had become so hateful and temperamental that the thought of asking him to take part in her family holiday hadn’t even crossed her mind.

It was different now, though. They had talked, really talked and Severus had promised her that he would never join them, that he was better than that. He wouldn’t laugh at her for thinking he might want to join her family holiday. He wouldn’t think less of her for looking forward to a trip to Cornwall, she thought, the uncertain look in his eyes a far cry from the look of impatience he would’ve given her a mere week before.

So, Lily leant towards him, the worried look in her eyes soon replaced by a small smile as she finally made up her mind.

‘I was wondering whether you already had anything planned for the summer’, she asked.

For a moment Severus looked stunned. He opened his mouth, as though he was going to reply but closed it straight away, his confusion soon replaced by a small frown. A pang of guilt churned in Lily’s stomach as she realised that, very much like her, he probably still struggled to believe that things were back like they were before. He shifted on his seat, a weary look falling upon his face before he looked at her once more.

‘I… I have not had enough time to consider it’ he managed to say after a while, his frown suggesting that the thought of summer holidays hadn’t even crossed his mind. She smiled a bit as he stiffly asked her for her own plans, his eyes briefly wondering to a couple of sniggering girls as Lily went on.

‘It’s a family holiday, but Dad says he wouldn’t mind if you came with us. I’d be happy if you did, we’ll be going for Australia after that, so I won’t see you for a while’ Lily said, tilting her head when she noticed that for a moment his eyes had widened.

‘A family holiday?’ he repeated incredulously.

Lily nodded, her smile never wavering.

‘It’s just a weekend, I mean, you… you don’t have to pay for, it’s just-’, she stopped when a plump woman squeezed with some difficulty between their table and the one of their closest neighbours. Very much like the rest of the shop, she too was dressed in frills. She gave them a knowing look, her eyes lingering between the two of them before she addressed Sev with a kind smile.

‘What can I get you, sweetheart?’, Lily had to try really hard not to laugh as Severus blinked his eyes slowly following the woman’s gaze, as he slowly came to realise it had not been Lily who had been addressed in such a way. His lips imperceptibly thinned, his eyes seemingly daring her to refer to him with such appellative again.

‘Well?’ Madam Puddifoot said, completely oblivious to his look of annoyance.

‘Black tea would suffice’ he said stiffly, his lips twitching in displeasure when, once again, she looked between them with a smile.

‘And what about you, my dear?’ she said, turning towards her, her quill hovering on a small piece of parchment.

Lily briefly looked at her friend, the possibility that he could not afford more than a tea, making her stomach churn. He must be hungry; it was way past normal lunchtime. She wondered what his parents did with the funds Professor Dumbledore distributed to the students in need. Not much for Severus for sure, she thought, looking at his bony frame. Remus too had been granted those funds and yet, despite most of his clothes looking old and worn, his robes had never had holes in them, nor had they been half as bad as Sev’s.

She had often wondered, but had never dared to ask. It was none of her business how his parents used that money and the only time she had hinted at it, Sev he had merely mumbled something about his father losing his job. He had been angry and had confidently told her that she didn’t need to worry about him and that he’d make a much better man then Tobias Snape would ever be. She remembered smiling and telling him that she believed he’d be brilliant.

‘I’ll get peppermint tea and some scones for us both’ she said then, taking it upon herself to revert the sickly look that still adorned his face, promising herself that by the end of the school year she’d see him off happy and healthy. If his parents couldn’t care enough for Severus then she would.

He blinked, opening his mouth to argue, his expression darkening ever so slightly; but he never had the chance to voice his thoughts.

‘I’ll have none of it, young man. She’s right. Ladies aren’t impressed with young men who starve themselves’ Madam Puddifoot said importantly, the annoyed look that crossed Severus’ face causing Lily to give him an awkward smile.

With another small nod in Lily’s direction, Madam Puddifoot scurried away, leaving them alone once more, the sour expression on Severus’ thin face letting her know that he had not been impressed by her stunt. She squirmed under the harsh look he gave her, wounded in his pride by the implications of her ordering food for them both, of her ordering something she knew he wouldn’t be able to pay.

‘I do not need your pity, Lily. I was perfectly content with tea’ he said, grimacing, when Madam Puddifoot came back with a tray, the smell of freshly baked scones lingering between them.

‘It’s not pity, I just-’, she looked at his furrowed brow, not quite knowing what to say.

He was too thin and he wasn’t eating properly, it was within her right to reproach him for that. They had always looked out for each other; whether it was her inquiring about his home life or him ready to listen to rants about how hurtful Tuney had been. She liked to think that Severus knew he could count on her as she on him.

There was nothing wrong in sharing her meal with her best friend, but Severus seemed to have conveniently forgotten they had done it before. Sure enough, he had never looked at her like that. She gulped, the hard look on his face making it instantly clear that he no longer wanted Lily to care for him like she used to. How could she have failed to notice that things had gotten that bad between them?

‘Sorry, I didn’t realise that-’, she started, only to stop a second later, not even knowing what she was apologising for, if not, that she hadn’t meant for them to ever end up behaving like strangers.

Lily gulped, refraining from blinking as she came to realise that their friendship wasn’t nearly as good as she had liked to believe. She stared at him, his face becoming a tad paler as she swallowed back tears, the dark look on his face slowly changing into one of discomfort as their eyes met.

It seemed unbelievable that it had taken her almost a week to realise that they were not indeed fine. She had been too happy about his change of heart to notice that he had barely spoken to her in those last days, his answers never longer than a few words. Lily gulped as she realised that he probably didn’t even want to be there with her at all, that he had probably agreed only out of his newfound manners.

‘I-’, he started with some difficulties, whilst Lily’s eyes stung, ‘If it pleases you, I’ll eat it’ he said awkwardly, quickly scooping one of the scones from the tray as she stared at him with a look of utter disbelief.

She opened her mouth, her ears burning when she realised how childish she must’ve looked. It was his fault, really, it wasn’t for her sake that he should be taking care of himself. It wasn’t about the scones either. She opened her mouth to tell him just that, but in the end, she just gave him an exasperated look. He blinked, his thin lips parting in confusion. She was suddenly reminded of her dad and of men oblivious to the mysterious nature of women’s displeasure. She averted her eyes, frustrated and embarrassed.

Stupid Severus, in the end it wasn’t her who had ended up looking like a child.

Still, Lily felt her cheeks grow warm when they both made to reach the flowery tea pot, their hands touching midway. Whether he had only agreed because she had looked as though she was about to cry, she did not know, but it was the sudden appearance of Madam Puddifoot that saved them from having to look at one another.

She had brought them clotted cream and jam.

‘I do not particularly enjoy sweets’ he offered strangely, when Lily noticed he’d barely put any jam on his scone. And she was torn between disbelief and amusement when, once again, the loud snogging of the table behind him had him bristling.

The pursing of his lips that followed was almost comical and she was immediately reminded of a young Scrooge. She tried to imagine him older and grumpier, but in the end, she just managed to picture him with an angry face and a nightcap. She pressed her lips together not to laugh. He owned a nightshirt, didn’t he? Most wizards did and then, Lily was suddenly reminded that Sev had never been one to understand people’s exuberance with festivities.

He raised an eyebrow at her, but the genuine smile on her face seemed to reassure him that she wasn’t laughing at his expenses. It wasn’t much, but in the next couple of minutes they both seemed to grow more relaxed.

‘Please, allow me’ he said, when she made to reach for the tea pot once again, silently showing her that even Slytherins could be chivalrous.

Her mouth twitched in a small smile as she brought the cup to her lips. She watched him as he did the same, wrinkling her nose a little when he blatantly disregarded the milk and sugar by his side; she had never known him to enjoy the bitter so much. He didn’t seem to mind the scone though, nodding politely when after the first bite, Lily asked him whether he liked it.

She slowly relaxed against her chair, asking herself whether she wasn’t just being a bit paranoid in regard to their relationship, or him not liking her anymore. In a couple of weeks, they’d be fine, they just needed a bit of time to go back to how things had been. She sighed, her eyes wandering to the flowery cafe.

Her lips twitched, the sight of so many people looking at each other with such love and fondness filling her heart with joy. She stared at them with fondness, but it wasn’t long before she noticed that there a couple of people were staring at them. She tried to tell herself that things weren’t probably the way they seemed. She tried to tell herself that it wasn’t really Severus they were looking at with such envy and mockery in their eyes.

She knew they called him ugly, mocking him for his features as well as his personality, but… Lily gulped, none of them knew him for how he really was. Yes, his nose might have been a bit too big for his face, his hair greasy most of the time, his face thin and sallow, but his eyes were beautiful, his fingers long and delicate. He could be kind when he wanted to and most important of them all, Lily could trust him to be by her side, since he hadn’t left her to join those horrible Death Eaters.

Let them stare, she thought, finding that she cared very little what they thought, of what Potter had thought when she had dragged her best friend in here. She looked at Severus from the corner of her eye, wondering if he minded that people were inevitably bound to think he was her boyfriend, their disapproving looks hard to miss.

Well, he certainly had never thought about her that way, she considered, her face flushing with heat when she found he was, once again, staring at her. For the life of her, Lily couldn’t even imagine him fancying someone, girl or boy for that matter, not when he had never seemed interested in those things. She stared into those intense black eyes, her face flushing even more. She brought her mug to her lips, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. As oblivious as he could be sometimes when it came to people’s emotions, Lily had been told more than once that she was an easy book to read.

She made a face as the tea burned her lips, grimacing when she put her mug back on the plate, fighting the urge to cough. How could he even drink it like this? She thought as Severus too drank the hot liquid, his face remaining as stoic as ever.

She frowned slightly as, once again, she caught herself noticing his manners, his legs elegantly crossed, his back ramrod straight. She blinked. When had he stopped slouching? Something shifted inside her as Dorcas and Potter’s words echoed in her mind, Sev’s strange behaviour and her increasing awareness of how much she had unconsciously wanted to ignore it, making those absurd theories not nearly as funny as she’d thought them to be.

Still, she shook her head, her heart skipping a beat when a part of her felt the need to remind her that Severus Snape had never had such manners, nor treated her with such cold form of politeness, regarding her almost like a stranger. Her eyes briefly drifted to his face, a thin drop of sweat running down her temple as she stared at the lank hair framing that thin face.

‘Is there something wrong?’ he asked, his voice nearly causing her to jump in her seat.

Lily tried to smile, a new wave of uneasiness washing over her as she forced herself to meet his dark eyes.

Something’s off, she thought before she could stop herself, the guarded look he gave her almost causing her to wince. He was tired, she told herself, he was just tired and she was making him suspicious and paranoid. There was nothing different about him, she was just seeing what she wanted to see.

She should’ve never let Dorcas and Potter’s words to get to her head. She dared another look at him, focusing on the faint shadows that still rested under those dark eyes. Yes, that was it, he was just tired, she thought again, forcing herself to smile.

‘Nothing’s wrong, it’s just been a strange week’ she confessed, trying to relax, telling herself that this was Severus, her best friend, and that there was no reason whatsoever to feel uncomfortable in his presence.

He looked at her for a few moments, his eyes seemingly staring right through her. He wasn’t moving much and as she watched his eyes shift to the people surrounding them, a strange look crossed his eyes. Still, his gaze visibly softened when he looked at her once more. He gave her a weak smile. She thought that he looked… sad, like he had not smiled in years.

‘Yes, I cannot say I would have believed anyone who told me I would end up in such a place’ he said wearily, his body language betraying a hint of discomfort at those words.

Lily gave him a guilty look.

He knows I’m uncomfortable, she thought, feeling even worse when he asked her whether she’d like to leave. Damn it, Marlene, she thought, averting her eyes and suddenly unable to look at him. She forced herself to smile and shook her head, but she’d always been a horrible liar, her face always transparent, her freckled, fair skin and red hair incredibly unhelpful when it came to hiding emotions. The piercing look he gave her in response made it all too clear that he knew she was being untruthful.

Lily averted her eyes once more, fearing they would betray her doubts, both hands resting on her warm cup.

“I will not join the Death Eaters, Lily. I give you my word”

She shivered, feeling a stitch in her chest. Was there really something wrong with him? Or was it really possible for someone to change like that in a mere week? She wanted to believe it, she wanted to stop thinking about it, Merlin knew she did, but…

She looked at his fathomless eyes, Mary’s words coming back to her mind.

“Best friends? He fancies you, that creep!”

Lily blinked, her face twisting in a funny expression. Was it merely that place that had brought Mary’s words in the front of her mind? She had never asked him. She had planned on laughing it off with him that very day, but his sickly appearance had completely caused her to forget her friend’s taunts. But what if it was true? What if one of her friends had confronted him about it?

Lily frowned. Could that really be? That would explain why he was being particularly cautious around her. And, if on the one hand Sev had always been a bit awkward, never, in whole time they had been friends, she had never known him to be capable of being so tactful and accommodating. What had Mary told him?

She gulped, her eyes wide as she nervously played with the ring on her finger, unsure what to think of the fact that such drastic change could have been for… her. Had he finally chosen to think over everything she had said about the Dark Arts and his friends? Had Mary undoubtedly venomous words caused him to think? Lily felt herself blushing a little, before she remembered that his behaviour was too different to be anything but worrying, his speech and manners so drastically different that sometimes, he barely acted like Severus at all.

She hadn’t actually minded the swearing; Severus had never looked shocked when she herself had started picking it up from him. Not that she’d swear much, but she always got a strange thrill by knowing that Severus would barely notice. It was freeing. In a way, even more so when Petunia had overheard them talking in such a manner, calling her a worthless freak and telling her no one would ever marry her.

Well, she thought, looking at him, that had definitely changed. He should have known Lily wouldn’t mind, so why was he doing it? As of now, he sounded like one of those boring stuck-up purebloods who talked to their friends as one would talk to their business partner. Indeed, lately he hadn’t as much as said anything that mildly resembled a swearword in her presence. She grimaced a bit.

Had his Slytherin friends told him he needed to speak like that? Had they told him he needed to act like that in order to impress her? Lily doubted that, his friends would never approve of him fancying a Mudblood, but then again, the Severus she had known had never been one to listen to his friends, not in regards to certain things, anyway.

‘Sev?’ she called, swallowing nervously.

‘Yes?’ he said evenly, looking at her, the loud chattering around them and his lack of anger for having been dragged in here seemingly reinforcing her theory.

She stared at his lips, unable to look away as Mary’s theory echoed once again in her mind. Was it so far-fetched? That… that would explain his weird behaviour or why, forty minutes after entering the flowery shop, he hadn’t as much as made a single complaint.

The notion that Severus might have secretly wanted to go there with her caused her to blush, because… boys… they did that sort of thing for girls they liked, didn’t they? Perhaps, Sev had just been too shy to directly ask her, or had thought Lily would refuse. Contrary to Gryffindors, Slytherins rarely went for a direct kind of approach. She stared at his face, almost expecting it to suddenly display some revealing sign that would confirm Mary’s theory, but she saw nothing, if not a hint of confusion in his eyes.

Lily shook her head, thinking herself to be silly. Could it have been the reason for his sudden change? How could he fancy her when lately he hadn’t listened to a word she’d said? When a mere week before he had been neck deep into everything she despised? And yet, as strange as it was, something had finally made him listen. Could it be that Severus might’ve started to feel something a bit stronger than friendship? Had he truly decided to change for her own sake?

She looked at him, beet red, her heart beating a little faster in her chest. What would she even say if he had come to like her that way?

‘Severus, you…’, she took a deep breath, opting for a direct approach, ‘I was wondering if you… do you fancy me?’

She regretted those words as soon as they left her lips, startled as Severus choked on his tea, coughing.

She stared worriedly at him as he brought a hand to his mouth, his face red as he struggled to breathe. She made to pat him lightly on the back, but he moved an inch back, his reaction enough for her to realise how wrong her suspicions had been.

‘W- What?’ he croaked; his voice still hoarse from coughing.

Lily could barely look at him, not even knowing how to feel. She wondered what he’d say if she told him that she had thought he might’ve left that ideology just for her own sake. Well, other than staring at her in disbelief, he’d probably tell her to get off her high horse; for how self-conceited one possibly had to be to believe that they alone must be the reason of such a change? She should probably stop reading so many fantasy novels.

She saw him staring at her as though she was some sort of hellish creature ready to descend on him, his back pressed against the back of his chair as his face twisted in a pained grimace.

‘Lily…’ he started, but he did not finish, something akin to hurt and shame flashing in his eyes.

She gulped, hating herself for ever asking him that stupid question. She had hurt him, hadn’t she? How could he not be hurt by the fact that Lily would believe his change had been nothing but a desire to impress a friend? A friend he had probably never thought needed impressing. Not anymore, not since they had both been children.

‘I’m sorry, forget it, it was stupid’ she said, and she truly meant it. They had been friends for seven years, what had she been thinking? Severus didn’t like her like that. Ruining their friendship for some silly idea…

Severus opened his mouth only to close it a moment later, a dark frown stretching upon his face.

‘I know you don’t, I… it’s just…it’s just something Mary said and I thought… I thought she might’ve talked to you and said something horrible. I don’t… I thought that might be why you’ve been acting a bit funny in the last few days’ she confessed, finding herself unable to lie and looking at him as though he was a bomb ready to explode, one that she couldn’t quite understand why had not detonated already after her accusations.

‘I mean, there would’ve been nothing wrong if you did, but we’ve been friends for seven years, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you, Sev? She was just being silly, saying that boys normally fancy someone when they-’, Severus’ face flushed scarlet.

‘I am not a boy’ he snarled, his eyes piercing as he looked at her, almost offended.

Lily stared and in the awkward silence that followed, a dull flush spread on his sallow cheeks.

‘Aren’t you, Sev?’ she said, smiling slightly when he seemed to blush even more.

‘That’s not… I-’, she watched him struggle to find the right words, his mouth opening and closing as he eventually gave up, his unspoken frustration clearly written on his face as he could only glare at her. It was uncommon for him to look completely at loss, his defensiveness making him look strangely vulnerable, like a wounded creature that could no longer escape and was trying to make itself bigger in the eye of a predator. Only that Severus wouldn’t bite, not when there was no malice in her words, not when he often also teased Lily.

“I am a man of my word” she remembered him saying, and Lily’s eyes softened, his tightly pressed lips giving her the impression he was barely refraining himself from cursing her into next week. He looks cute, she found herself thinking, his flustered face looking even funnier when he was deliberately attempting to silence her with the power of his glare alone.

Severus narrowed his eyes as she started to laugh at his expenses, his absurd statement putting him in no position to blame her for finding his words nothing short of hilarious. He felt the urge to rub his temples, his cheeks still warm. Somehow, he had forgotten how cheeky she used to be; how easily he would blush in her presence.

“There’s no need to call me Sir, Professor”

Severus’ mouth twisted in a small grimace. Yes, as much as he loathed to admit it, it looked as though her blasted son’s cheekiness had not merely been the product of Potter’s genes. Still, he thought, clenching his teeth, Lily would have never answered a professor with such blatant disrespect. No, Lily would have never answered like that. Severus’ mouth thinned, as it often did when he thought of that ungrateful brat. He refused to think that Potter might have been anything less than the carbon copy of his father; why he had probably celebrated Severus’ death, laughed at the realisation he had been in love with his mother.

“I was wondering if you… Do you fancy me?”

He looked at her smile, shuddering at how close to the truth she had been. Mary said… Severus closed his eyes; somehow glad she had decided not to inquire any further on the previous subject. No, he had never “fancied” Lily, not even when he’d been nine, when she’d been a light in a bleak world of bitterness and violence.

He loved Lily, he’d die for her in a heartbeat, he would sacrifice everything he had for her happiness and he had spent the entirety of his life trying to right his wrongs. She’d always been much more than a puerile fancy.

He sighed as he spotted the small smile still resting on her face.

“I mean, there would be nothing wrong if you…”

She certainly wouldn’t have said so had she been able to see him for what he truly was. A foul and vindictive man, consumed by guilt, jealousy and hatred and as though that wasn’t enough, an ex-Death Eater and murderer. Nothing wrong? Severus knew she would have never come anywhere near him had she been able to see through his deceitful appearance.

It wasn’t with him after all that Lily had agreed to spend her time with. She hadn’t been able to bear his dark tendencies at the age of sixteen, Merlin knew why she’d bear a man who had been a Death Eater.

Had she known the full extent of his sins, would she have ever believed he had changed sides? What would she think of the man who had sold her entire family and had her murdered? The man who had killed Dumbledore, spending the last year of his life unable to stop the children under his care from being tortured?

Severus thought of his aged face, his features hardened by years of loneliness and suffering, his left arm blemished with the reminder that some sins were just too great to be forgiven. What would she think of such a man? Would she be disgusted, frightened, even, by the monster the boy in front of her had become?

And what was worse was that foul and twisted as he was, Severus still loved her, no matter how he had tried to deny it. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had smiled, the last time he had felt alive and here she was, making sure he ate properly, casually touching him as though Severus wasn’t some twisted and tainted thing.

It was almost a foreign feeling to feel his heartbeat increase whenever she inched a bit closer to him, how easy it was to forget who he was when he was with her, easy to forget that they had all been eager to see him die.

Severus’ lips twisted in a weary smile. It was truly like being a stupid teenager all over again, his worst fear being that Potter would take her away from him before he could show her what a great wizard he’d be. He could still remember how much he had dreamt of being powerful and feared in his youth. And sure enough, at the price of losing her friendship, powerful and respected he had become, the joy of seeing others cowering in his presence quick to wane and leaving his heart cold and empty as the years went by.

Severus had never expected to survive the war. A week after his death, he still felt as though he was walking in a strange limbo, Lily’s presence being the only thing that helped him in feeling less like a corpse and more like a living being; the Dark Lord’s defeat being the only thing he could think of to justify his presence amongst the livings. But what if he survived? The prospect was once again terrifying.

He looked at Lily. Hope was a cruel thing.

Would she want him to live once she knew just how much he had wronged her? She probably would, if not out of the kindness of her heart, because once his job had been done, he’d deserve the suffering of living another empty life. He’d deserve to watch her marry Potter and die alone.

Would she even believe a man like him could have turned from the darkness because of love? Severus knew no one would have ever suspected someone like him capable of such feelings. Of all the qualms surrounding his changing sides, sentimentality had never been one of them. And people had wondered. Severus wasn’t as much as a fool as to believe that Dumbledore’s sanity would not have been seriously questioned had he told his dear Order why he had come to trust Severus Snape.

No, not even Lily would’ve believed such a man could love another living thing. She would have never believed anything good had survived in a man who had had sunk so deep into the darkness, never truly shedding his skin from the vile creature he had been. No, there was little good left in him and, appearance aside, nothing Lily could ever come to love.

Severus sighed, staring at his hand, almost fearing that he might suddenly age again, that she’d see past his youthful appearance. What could one even call a man of his age who was in love with a girl of sixteen? Unfortunately, pathetic wasn’t the first word that came to his mind.

Severus grimaced. He would never touch her like that, he couldn’t even bear the thought of hurting her, let alone… grooming her. And yet had he not dreamt of her body in his arms? Did his body not react to her touch, longing for her to come closer, longing for more?

Severus’ face whitened, becoming the colour of sour milk as disgust reared in his throat. Yes, Severus knew exactly what he was, the young couples surrounding them not helping him in feeling any less of a creep. He imagined looking like he had and couldn’t help but shudder with the utmost revulsion at the realisation than no one could’ve seen him as anything but a sexual predator.

‘Sev? Are you alright?’ she asked him, the gentle caress in her voice causing another rush of self-loathing.

He forced himself to nod, his lips inevitably thinning as she gave him another small smile, the warmth in her eyes making him feel even more repulsed and ashamed of himself.

She stared at him for a moment and when Severus refused to listen her apologies about noisy friends and her own silly assumptions, she grew a bit quieter, her head slightly cocked to one side as, for the first time, she stared at him with a note of uncertainty in her eyes.

The tinkling bell of Madam Puddifoot’s tea room rang at their backs as they walked out of the cafe. In the minutes that followed, Severus didn’t utter a single word, wounded in his pride as he twisted his hands in his empty pockets. Lily gave him a small smile, a smile he ignored as he bit his tongue, barely stopping himself from uttering words he would later regret.

It was not Lily’s fault he was poor; it was not Lily’s fault he was frustrated for his lost possessions or that she couldn’t see anything wrong in paying for his meal with her own savings.

They hedged towards a narrow alley, the late afternoon sun causing him to narrow his eyes as they found themselves once again on the main road. They walked for a few minutes; the road nearly deserted as the sun slowly disappeared behind the mountains.

Lily shot him a nervous look, his silence making her more anxious that she would’ve cared to admit. What’s wrong with him? She thought, her heart hammering inside her chest as Potter’s words played once again in her head.

She searched his face, his hair swaying slightly as he walked, the black strands falling over his cheeks unable to hide the hard line that had become his mouth. She watched him sigh, knowing full well he knew she was staring at him.

‘You shouldn’t have had to pay’ he said after a while, his bitter resentment the strangest thing of them all.

‘Am I not allowed to share food with my best friend? I thought you said there was no point in arguing with me’ she said, ignoring the fact that his “not arguing” had never meant he wouldn’t accept it begrudgingly.

Lily took a deep breath as he turned to face her, a hint of annoyance in his eyes.

‘I don’t want you to pay for something we share, remember?’ she said, looking sideways at him. Alas, what should have served as a reminder him of a reluctant agreement, only earned her a frown.

Lily stopped dead in her track; because the was no recognition in his eyes. He doesn’t remember that, she realised, hastening to tell herself that was only because it had happened two years before and not because he was some kind of imposter.

‘You remember, don’t you?’ she pushed him, turning him towards her as she instinctively grabbed his arm.

It was only in that moment, when she saw his eyes narrow that Lily fully realised how deserted the street had become, the cold breeze and setting sun pushing her fellow peers back to the castle. She swallowed hard, her mouth strangely dry as she stared at him with wide eyes, her hand trembling slightly as she let go of his forearm.

It was just inevitable that her eyes would dart to the end of the street, to Madam Rosmerta’s, where she knew her friends had gone to enjoy one last butterbeer. She stared at the skinny boy in front of her, her insides squirming painfully as she realised that there was no denying she was afraid of him, her instinct telling her once again that something was off.

She had never thought she would ever feel unsafe walking alongside with him, but the more she stared at him, the more she realised that Potter might’ve been right on at least one thing: people didn’t change like that in one week.

‘Lily’ he called her, causing her to flinch.

In spite of her better judgment, she looked at him in the eye. For a moment, his eyes seemed to narrow, his forehead crinkling slightly; but just as she thought he was about to do something, he averted his eyes, his thin lips twisting in a pained grimace as he turned his back to her.

‘I’m sorry’ he said forcefully, making her wonder what the hell had just happened.

She stared at his back, watching as he tiredly brought a hand to his face. Does he know? Does he know I suspect him? She asked herself, her hand trembling madly as she tried to reach out for him. She needed to know, she needed to look at him in the eye. That way she’d know if it was him or if someone was controlling him. The Imperius Curse, Dark Magic, spells… Somehow everything was better than Polyjuice, than knowing it had taken her so long to realise it wasn’t him.

‘Severus, I-’, she froze as his back suddenly stiffened, the hand that had been about to reach his shoulder jerking back as he turned around.

It all happened so fast that it almost felt surreal. She could’ve done nothing to prevent it. She saw his face contorting in a sneer, her sudden rush of adrenaline doing little to match the unnatural speed with which he turned around. A terrible jolt of fear shook her to the core as a flash of light left the tip of his fingers. She closed her eyes, feeling his hand on her arm, but his spell never hit her.

‘Potter!’

She opened her eyes, as he released her, his back being the first thing she registered. She winced as he turned around, still trying to understand what had just happened if not that Severus looked furious, mad, his teeth bared as he frantically looked around, his nostrils flared.

If that was an imposter, Lily would’ve said that this was actually the first time he was doing a good job. She watched him stride past her, his hand stretched as he tried to get a hold of thin air. The scene would’ve looked almost comical hadn’t she been worried he might be going insane. And while Severus had often claimed they took in turn to follow him everywhere, going as far as to yell that it had been Potter to make him fall head first in the mud in front of her, this looked as though he had finally gone bonkers.

She looked around, slowly drawing her wand, but no one was there, only a rat. She thought she heard the faint sound of footsteps, but whether or not someone had been actually following them for the whole time Lily could not tell.

‘A stinging hex’ Severus told her, the suppressed fury in his voice causing her to jump.

‘Did I hurt you?’ he asked suddenly, his eyes darting to the arm she was holding.

Lily shook her head, he hadn’t actually pulled hard enough to hurt her; she was just ashamed for having feared he would.

‘How do you know it was Potter?’

He did not answer. Merlin knew, she would’ve certainly felt relieved had he started cursing and threatening the other boy, calling him a coward for attacking him at his back, but Severus stayed silent.

Whether it had been actually Potter to fire that spell, Lily would never know, but her heart skipped a beat as she realised that whoever had done it had planned for her to be there as it happened. What had she missed?

She watched him close his eyes, his hands were still shaking when he opened them, but anger had now left its place to a cold kind of fury. He turned to look at her and it was only then, by looking at his trembling fingers, that Lily realised he had never drawn his wand.

Chapter Text

Severus Snape, unlike his former best friend, had never been famous for his empathy and understanding. He had struggled with empathy as a child, and yet, he was not completely oblivious to people’s emotions. During the course of his life, he had inevitably learnt to sense subtle changes in other people’s mood, learning very quickly that it was in his best interest to pay attention to the smallest changes in people’s tone of voice and behaviour. It was a skill that had served him well, ensuring his survival under his drunken father’s roof, and later on in the Dark Lord’s inner circle.

He’d learn to carefully conceal his thoughts and feelings with the Mind Arts, leaving people wondering what his next move would be. He looked down on fools who proudly wore their hearts on their sleeves, men easily manipulated by a few chosen words by those who knew which strings to play. Emotions could be a dangerous weakness, one that must be hidden close to one’s heart and buried within. It was therefore unsurprising that Severus had died being regarded as a heartless bastard. A cold and twisted being that could murder a man who’d showed him nothing but kindness.

Unfortunately, he did have a heart; though life would have certainly been easier if he hadn’t. He did not care about most people, but he did care deeply for a selected few.

He sighed; his fingers loosely wrapped around the wand in his pocket as Lily practically ran towards the portrait hole. He wondered if up until that moment, a part of her had been aware he’d been debating whether he ought to let her go with her memory still intact.

All temptation to pry into her thoughts were quickly snuffed out every time he considered betraying her trust so deeply. For some inexplicable reason, she still trusted him. She really shouldn’t. He could have robbed her mind of every suspicious thought she’d ever had of him without her even noticing. Perhaps he should have. After all, what could a sixteen-year-old girl have done against the Dark Lord’s right hand man? It wasn’t as though she could have stopped him. The thought alone was enough to make him sick.

Such violent act of Legilimency could permanently damage the human mind and as of now Severus felt a monster to have even considered it. Merlin help him, how could she have ever trusted him? His fingers shook, for he could barely trust himself.

“You remember, don’t you?”

Severus grimaced. He had changed, he knew that much, but he would have never believed Lily would fear he might be an imposter; nor that he would fail so spectacularly at impersonating himself.

He did remember, or, to be more precise, he had remembered. Of course, humiliated by the fact that she had had to pay for his food as though he were nothing but a child, he had forgotten that his teenage self wouldn’t have lashed out at her for such a thing. He had been ashamed, even more so when, upon emptying his pockets, he had realised he would not have enough money to pay for the food she had kindly offered. He had glared at her, already on edge after her prying questions.

Of course, it wasn’t as though he could explain how degrading it was for a man of his age to find himself with nothing but a few sickles in his pockets. He could not expect her to understand that, nor why he’d snapped at her after she’d called him “boy”.

Wasn’t that what he was? How could she know he had looked very different a few days before? How could she know that he hated to look at that fragile, scrawny body, the lack of hairs on his face and chest another painful reminder that he looked not a day older than one of his students? Was Lily to blame if he was unable to look in a mirror without being disgusted? He’d hated being this age. Indeed, he would’ve much preferred being an ugly but respected old man, rather than being laughed at by his peers for his appearance.

It had been incredibly unfair for him to blame her for pouring salt in a wound that she couldn’t possibly know existed; not that Severus had ever cared much about fairness.

He ran a hand down his face, his posture deflating. He was just about to start his descend towards the Dungeons when he stopped, the hairs on his nape standing up. He turned around, his wary eyes resting on the silvering outline of a phoenix as the Patronus swept right before him. The phoenix looked at him, its light engulfing them in an eerie silence. Severus took a deep breath, Dumbledore’s words coming back to his mind.

“Dark and difficult times lie ahead. Soon we must face the choice between what is right and what is easy”

He grimaced, bowing his head as he met the phoenix eyes. He was ready.

The room was quiet, rays of moonlight seeping through the tall windows and dancing lazily over the silver instruments scattered around Dumbledore’s Office. Severus stood in the doorway for a moment, his face an emotionless mask, a part of him ready to accept a fate that would likely terminate with another gruesome death.

Would this Dumbledore know what Harry Potter and his friends had been entrusted to do during that past year? Was he privy to that information? Would he trust Severus with the boy’s task this time? Or would he be once again sent to spy on his old Master?

Despite Occlumency, a cold shiver ran down the length of his spine, his skin crawling at the memory of the Mark that had marred his pale skin. Another sign of disfigurement, one that similarly to the scar that now twisted his neck, had served as a constant reminder that one could never truly escape their past. He had died and come back, but as he stood here, in front of Dumbledore, it was as though they stood once again frozen in time.

He thought of the sixteen-year-old girl that had smiled at him that past week, he remembered reassuring her that there were indeed still friends, clinging to every smile she had given him like a drowning man. It was all a lie, of course, his mission hadn’t changed, no matter how much he’d tried, if not for a short time, to forget. He knew what he’d have to do, he had never needed Dumbledore reminding him. He’d promised himself he’d do everything in his power to make sure this girl would live a long, happy life. A life her best friend had prematurely taken away from her. It’d be the closest thing to atonement he would ever get.

Death had not made him a coward and despite all, he liked to think he was no longer the same man who had unknowingly sold her to his Master.

Fawkes gave a soft cry, raising his beautiful head from under his scarlet wings as he shifted on his perch, his black eyes fixing curiously on him. Severus forced himself to straighten his back, his cold eyes finally meeting those of the older wizard, sitting in the very chair he himself had occupied. He stifled a shudder.

‘You called, Headmaster?’ he said curtly, preparing himself to accept whatever Dumbledore would decide to make of him.

Dumbledore stared at him; then he sighed. It was only because of his own familiarity with the man that Severus noticed that Dumbledore looked as tired as he was, the Pensieve still shimmering eerily on his worn desk. Severus’ eyes rested on it, a look of discomfort crossing his features.

So he had seen them, Severus thought. He winced as his old withered face swirled on the surface, a pair of red, cold eyes fixing on his as a snake prepared itself to strike. The memories swirled again and he saw his teenage-self waking up covered in blood, long, bloody fingers trailing down a broken mirror. Despite his best efforts, Severus found himself averting his gaze. He felt queasy as his hand found the scars on his neck, his finger shaking slightly at the memories of the snake.

Blasted snake, he thought, trying to hide his discomfort, his skin cold and sweaty.

‘Is there a reason why you summoned me here?’ he found himself asking impatiently, his tired face forming once again on the surface, his own miserable life staring mockingly at him as he strode in the dim lit corridors, the students’ screams that he immediately associated with that memory causing his skin to crawl. Then, there was a younger Severus, crawling at his Master’s feet, relaying the prophecy and then, there was Lily, dead.

Severus closed his eyes, his breaths growing erratic. There was a reason he relied on Occlumency to shut down those memories, he couldn’t bear the sight of them, he thought ashamed, tightening his hands into fists so that Dumbledore wouldn’t notice how much they were shaking. Why couldn’t he have kept that blasted thing away?

He opened his eyes, trying to slow down his breathing, his chest tight.

‘Could… could you… please,’ he gestured to the Pensieve, unable to finish, but Dumbledore seemed to understand, because he tapped the Pensieve with the tip of his wand and the storm of memories quieted down, replaced by a sea of pure, silver light.

Severus swallowed, his mouth dry, his chest hurting as though sea water had been just removed from his lungs. He looked at Dumbledore, wishing the man would offer him something to drink. He was tense, ashamed for nearly succumbing to one of his episodes in front of this unfamiliar man, afraid that Dumbledore would look at him as though Severus was something broken, as though he was on the verge of insanity.

What would Dumbledore have said had he known Severus had been taking Calming Draughts behind his back? Would he trust him to fight still or would he think him mentally unstable? He could still remember his father mocking his mother for succumbing to panic when Severus had been a child. He’d said they were weak and pathetic things. But no, Dumbledore would merely look at him, worry clouding his eyes for what he was asking him to endure. Severus had hated that look. It’d always made him feel like no matter how hard he tried; the man would always be capable of seeing right through him.

Dumbledore gave him a strange look, sparing him the humiliations of having to explain. Perhaps the man was more like his older counterpart than Severus had originally thought. Either that or he had deliberately placed the Pensieve where Severus could easily see it, hoping to see whether the seemingly unemotional man in front of him would be able to watch his worst memories without an ounce of remorse.

Severus grimaced. He knew Dumbledore had had no control over the memories that had appear on the surface, but when his blank gaze rested on the Pensieve once more, he couldn’t help but feel as though he’d be strangely violated.

They stared at each other for a couple of minutes, Severus’ body as cold as stone before Dumbledore gestured for him to take a seat. The corner of Dumbledore’s lips twitched as he automatically walked towards his favourite armchair next to Fawkes.

He sat rather stiffly. Fawkes the phoenix watched him curiously, fluttering his beautiful wings as he hedged a bit closer. Very much like his prying owner, the blasted bird had always had a knack for seemingly seeing past Severus’ harsh demeanour. The bird tilted his head, soft feathers brushing his fingers as he looked as though, in spite of his Occlumency, he could still feel Severus’ pain and discomfort.

He hesitated; a part of him wondering whether it was wise to touch the bird while Dumbledore was still so distrusting of him. Then, he reluctantly petted him once, the feathers feeling warm and soft beneath his fingers, before he stopped. Fawkes looked at him expectantly, nudging him to continue, oblivious to the fact that his owner might as well decide to curse Severus’ hand off if he thought him unworthy of touching his precious familiar.

Severus sighed. The phoenix had always seemed to like him, but the bird seemed to be utterly fascinated by him now. Severus briefly wonder whether this had anything to do with him having experienced death.

‘Fascinating creatures, phoenixes, don’t you think, Severus? May I call you Severus?’ Dumbledore asked, his voice evoking a scowl as Severus realised he had long since taken his eyes off the man, allowing himself to lower his guard, fooled by the familiar surroundings. Had Dumbledore been the Dark Lord, he would’ve already been dead.

‘Of course,’ he said, somehow stiffly, feeling positively moronic as he found himself soothed but that false sense of familiarity. Something had warmed in his chest at hearing Dumbledore refer to him by his first name. Was it hope? Was he so desperate to gain once again the Headmaster’s approval? He grimaced. Good Merlin, he was pathetic.

Dumbledore tilted his head, staring intently at him before Severus looked away.

‘Forgive me, my boy, I did not mean to make you uncomfortable, but as you said, I find myself with more than a few questions. I was wondering if we could go back to where we left,’ he asked, his voice gentler.

Severus nodded, his eyes briefly wandering to Dumbledore’s office. It looked mostly the same, minor a few silver instruments and books that Dumbledore must’ve collected in the following twenty years. Apart from that, the room looked just as he had left it. Despite having taken the Headmaster’s role, Severus had never found it within himself to dispose of Dumbledore’s possessions, let alone redecorate.

It had been a reminder of just how dangerous of a man he could be, a silent warning meant for rebellious students and colleagues, or so he had said to the Carrows when they had inquired on the matter. Severus closed his eyes for a moment, had Dumbledore not asked him, he would have never taken the job. Being a professor had been bad enough as it was.

For a moment no one spoke, the ripples created by Dumbledore’s wand soon leaving space to a new swirl of memories as Severus’ weary eyes drifted once again to the Pensieve. Lily was no longer there, nor were the screaming students, but he could now see himself, walking in that tunnel, the bloodied figure of his teenage-self stumbling towards the castle as he closed his eyes.

‘Am I correct in assuming that these are your memories?’

Severus did not answer, a dark shadow falling on his face as he stared at the swirling memories. He nodded, seemingly confirming Dumbledore’s unspoken suspicions.

“No need to be upset my boy. You have done well, very well indeed.”

Severus’ eyes darkened at that memory, his thoughts drifting back to the smile and proud look that had adorned the older Dumbledore’s features. Guilt and shame overtook him. That had been a memory of a time and place that did not belong to the world of the living, a memory that he had considered too private to share.

‘Yes,’ he said gravelly, his eyes now fixed upon Dumbledore, a troubled look resting upon those ancient features. Dumbledore did not answer. A muscle in his jaw twitched, betraying a hint of impatience.

‘Well? Am I to understand that you believe me? Do you believe I am from a time yet to come?’ Severus asked at last, his finger tracing the outline of his thin lips, his dark eyes never leaving Dumbledore’s.

Dumbledore sighed, leaning back in his chair as he entwined his long fingers.

‘I’m afraid it’s of little importance what I believe. What I know for certain, however, is that those memories have not been tampered with’ he answered wearily.

‘That leave us with two possibilities. Tell me, Severus, are you a seer?’

‘No’ he said bitterly, his mouth contorting into a sneer. And sure enough, Trelawney’s magnified eyes and inane bubbling immediately came to the forefront of his mind. His eyes narrowed at the mere thought of having been compared to the woman.

Oblivious as to why Severus seemed to be mildly offended, Dumbledore merely nodded, not looking at him, his expression suggesting that Severus had only confirmed what Dumbledore himself had considered an unlikely theory.

‘I thought as much, which brings us to my next question: how old are you, Severus?’ Dumbledore asked contemplatively, his bright blue eyes drifting back on him as though Severus was a complicated piece of puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out.

Severus’ eyes narrowed.

‘Older than I look,’ he said darkly. Dumbledore raised an eyebrow but did not press the matter any further as he patiently waited for Severus to grace him with a proper answer.

Severus crossed his arms defensively, Dumbledore’s gaze making him increasingly self-conscious about his youthful appearance; an unconscious fear of not being taken seriously because of it bubbling in his stomach.

‘I died one week ago, twenty-two years from now,’ he added dismissively.

Dumbledore stroked his long beard, his index finger tracing his lower lip. Severus resisted the urge to shift under his gaze, scowling at the realisation that he was indeed uncomfortable.

‘Which would make you thirty-eight years of age, am I correct?’, Severus nodded, ‘And if your Occlumency skills are anything to go by, I’d go as far as to say that you seem to have gained much more than a simple insight into your future, Mr. Snape. Forgive me if I’m wrong, but you don’t quite act like the boy I remember. Tell me, Severus, do you even remember being this age?’ Dumbledore inquired, and Severus’ face flushed as he understood what exactly Dumbledore had been asking.

Was he a sixteen-year-old boy who possessed some knowledge of the future or a thirty-year-old man who had lived his live and died to find himself once again a teenager? He glanced at Dumbledore, the man’s head still slightly tilted to one side, his piercing blue eyes looking right through him.

Severus swallowed, his lips thinning with the effort of restraining an outward display of annoyance.

‘Not any more than I suspect you remember being this age, Headmaster,’ he said smoothly, praying Dumbledore would stop staring at him as though trying to determine whether he was still in full possession of his mental faculties. He looked at the older wizard, his face sudden veiled by Occlumency as he straightened his back.

‘I would not have offered my services if I thought myself incapable of living up to the task. I am not a child. Which brings us to my first request. I would like to be put to some use, I believe my talents and knowledge would be of better use in the war rather than wasted in repeating my O.W.L.s. If I may, I believe we could use my knowledge to terminate this war before it furthers escalates,’ he said stiffly.

‘And if you…’ he took a deep breath, gritting his teeth, ‘And if you believe I would be of greater use as a spy, I shall resume my role. I will regain the Dark Lord’s trust and work from within his ranks to ensure his defeat,’ he added; and despite his best efforts, his face went rather pale at the thought of having to take the Mark once more.

Another life ruined in the name of the greater good. Another life made of hatred and lies, another life as a murderer. Severus took a deep breath, his eyes burning as he met Dumbledore’s gaze, a strange look crossing the older man’s features. Was that surprise on his face? Did Dumbledore believe him to be such a coward? Did he not think Severus would have the strength to do what was necessary?

“Knowledge is a powerful tool, as well as a great burden. You’ll have to be very careful, I don’t need to tell you that you are not as safe as you think you are. A war is coming.”

“I know what you are implying and there is no need, you know I will find you,” he said brusquely. Dumbledore smiled warmly at him, looking as though he had known the answer all along.

“I had my hopes, I’ll admit as much,” he said with a smile, twiddling his thumbs together, his expression slightly amused. Severus let out a frustrated hiss, a snarl playing on his lips.

“Then, you do not know me as you claim you do, Dumbledore. If you did, you’d know I find myself with no choice in the matter!”

“I believe we always have a choice, my boy. But yes, I think I understand what you mean. As long as Lord Voldemort is alive Lily is hardly safe.”

As much as collaborating with Dumbledore could be infuriating, Severus knew an alliance with him would greatly enhance his chances to successfully take down the Dark Lord. If the Dark Lord were once again to gain the level of control he had had during the second war all would be lost. How many people would have to die now that his forces outnumbered the Order twenty to one once more?

He grimaced. As far as he knew there hadn’t been a single living witch or wizard able to lie to that monster’s face and survive to tell the tale. Indeed, the Dark Lord’s arrogance and power had never led him to suspect that Severus Snape might succeed where they had all failed. Severus had only been another poor and ugly young man, talented and desperate to please.

Severus took a deep breath.

‘I only have two more requests. If I am unable to stop the war from escalating and die in the process, you must promise me you will do everything in your power to ensure Lily Evans’ safety. My third and last request is that you share everything you know about Horcruxes. I wish to be actively part of your plans, Dumbledore. These are the conditions for my loyalty,’ he finished.

Dumbledore stared at him for some interminable moments, a look of pity flashing in his eyes as he exhaled deeply, his gaze briefly wandering to the shimmering Pensieve. Fawkes gave a soft cry and Dumbledore sighed, some strange emotions shining into his eyes as he looked once again at the younger wizard.

Severus felt himself stiffen and it was a couple of seconds before he understood the reason behind his increasing discomfort. The mistrusting and wary look had long disappeared from Dumbledore’s eyes, replaced by the same sad look that had adorned his counterpart’s features.

“I did everything you asked of me. I gave him my memories, sending him to his own death. Potter is probably as dead as I am by now … or as I was, if, somehow, you have miraculously managed to bring me back,” he said, his words heavy with irony.

“I know what you want me to do, Dumbledore and I cannot. Take a look at me, I can barely stand. How am I to protect the students or provide the necessary aid to the Order? Why bring me back if I am hardly any use to anyone?” he said, his voice shaking.

For a moment Dumbledore merely stared at him, then he sighed, a sad smile stretching on his lips.

“I keep underestimating you, Severus. But no, you misunderstand me, you do not need to do anything you don’t want to.”

‘Is it your life you are offering me, Severus? Do you not care whether you live or die?’ Dumbledore asked gravely.

Severus flinched, Dumbledore’s words hitting him like a jet of ice water. That was not what he had meant, nor what he had expected Dumbledore to say after putting forward his requests. And yet, the cowardly implications and sad look in the other man’s eyes immediately caused a rush of anger.

‘I am not suicidal!’ he snarled, annoyance twisting his young features when, despite all, he realised that he sounded almost defensive. There had been another time when the man had feared Severus would take his own life. For the matter to be brought up once again…

Dumbledore averted his eyes.

‘No. However, it deeply troubles me how a man who has just been through a gruesome death could be so willing to forsake his freedom once again and resume from where he left. Are you alright, Severus? I must say, you look exhausted,’ Dumbledore said, a worried look crossing his features.

Severus’ eyes widened ever so slightly, taken aback by the change of subject as Dumbledore patiently waited his reply. Was Dumbledore questioning whether his wounds would impair him in a fight? Severus clicked his tongue in annoyance, forcing himself to give an honest answer.

‘I- ’ he started, then hesitated, ‘I have not experience any lasting damage and have nearly recovered all my strength. Speaking of which, Headmaster, if you grant me permission to make use of the Potions Lab, I would replace everything I have unrightfully taken from Horace Slughorn and the Hospital Wing, it was unbecoming of me to-’

Dumbledore shook his head.

‘No need to apologise, my boy, I should have never allowed you to leave my office without inquiring whether you were in need of a Healer. I’m afraid I allowed myself to forget that despite everything you were still a student in my care.’

Severus scowled, biting back a snarky reply about how Dumbledore had never cared when Severus had been sixteen the first time around.

‘You know very well I cannot storm in the Hospital Wing and demand Pomfrey’s assistance. You know the procedure, she would be forced to notify the Ministry if you refused to tell her how a student came by and let alone survived such disfigurement,’ he said curtly, gesturing quite pointlessly to his neck.

‘All the same, I should have offered. I know a bit of healing magic myself, and while I do not believe we can do anything to heal those scars, I might be able to help with the pain’ Dumbledore said kindly.

‘Enough of my health, Dumbledore. We were discussing your plans!’ Severus snapped. Truth be told, he had not expected Dumbledore to be so overbearing, the sudden care in the man’s voice another reason why he was eager to move past the subject. He wondered if it was merely the fact that he looked like a child that had Dumbledore feeling suddenly remorseful about his treatment.

For a moment Dumbledore looked uncertain, then he nodded reluctantly.

‘We are, and while I understand your desire to help, Severus, I find myself unable to grant your first request. You can probably foresee that a talented Slytherin’s early departure from Hogwarts and in particular one that had shown interest in his cause might attract unwanted attention. I would rather have you at Hogwarts, away from Lord Voldemort’s clutches. I trust you can easily see why it would be disastrous for us to have the information you possess fall into the wrong hands. I am afraid that at this stage of your life you would make for a lousy spy,’ Dumbledore said, a small smile touching his lips.

“I prefer not to put all of my secrets in one basket, particularly not a basket that spends so much time dangling on the arm of Lord Voldemort.”

“Which I do on your orders!”

‘I understand,’ Severus said darkly, despite all a hint of annoyance touching his features.

It appeared that he had become a basket too full of secrets for Dumbledore to risk losing. He should have been expecting that answer. Of course, Dumbledore would not take such a risk. And yet, his mind was now torn between being denied the familiarity of his role and the relief he felt at being spared a second life of hatred and mistrust. Additionally, a part of him couldn’t help but feeling mildly offended at the reprehensible adjective Dumbledore had used to describe him.

No, “lousy” wasn’t exactly the word Severus would’ve used to describe a man who had managed to die without the Dark Lord being any wiser of his true allegiance.

Alas, one look at Dumbledore told him that this past version of the Headmaster would never take such a risk. “I would rather have you at Hogwarts”, Severus gulped, that was a harder blow to take and yet what had he been expecting, really? Had he hoped that Dumbledore would ignore the Slytherin badge on his chest? That in a time where the Dark Lord was becoming bolder and bolder in trying to recruit promising members of his old House they would simply ignore him?

Fool, Severus thought. Dumbledore himself had not been allowed to graduate earlier, so why would he? Severus’ lips thinned, unable to find a reasonable excuse to push the matter any further, the utter boredom that he felt in attending his classes unable to prove itself a satisfactory reason to risk ending up in the Dark Lord’s grasp, and yet…

‘Isn’t there anything at all you can do to make my current situation more bearable?’ Severus asked quietly, averting his eyes, the thought of having to live once again through his school years a difficult pill to swallow. He could feel his mind rotting with each passing day.

‘Would you allow me to re-join the Order?’ he pressed on, the sigh that followed his question causing his mouth to twist in resignation.

‘I’m really sorry, Severus, but I cannot accept you in the Order, as, despite your extraordinary life experience, you remain physically underage,’ Dumbledore said kindly, ‘However, I do not see why a brilliant student like yourself could not be trusted with a few extracurricular activities. How many years have you been Potions Master at this school?’ he asked jovially.

‘Fifteen years,’ he said through gritted teeth.

Dumbledore took a few moments to consider him, a pensive look crossing his feature as he looked at him.

‘You… entrusted me to brew potions for the Order, amongst… other things,’ Severus forced himself to add, a small grimace touching his features as he realised that despite his annoyance at having his competence questioned, there still was a note of eagerness in his voice. He thought of his fifth-year classes, the chance of being granted the opportunity to brew and experiment with his own potions and spells causing a note of excitement to slip past the veil of apathy.

He looked at the older wizard, who was now stroking his beard. He was being carefully examined, as though he was a mysterious magical artifact Dumbledore didn’t quite know what to do with. Those blasted, ever seeing eyes were fixed on him in a way that nearly caused him to recoil. He found himself averting his gaze and it was in that moment, upon catching his distorted reflection in one of Dumbledore’s silver instruments that Severus was suddenly reminded that he didn’t exactly look like a competent Potions Master.

Of course, he thought, snarling. Did Dumbledore think he was mentally damaged? He stared spitefully at his boyish appearance, humiliated by those assumptions. And then it hit him, that his appearance might have only been a part of the problem, for this Dumbledore had never had the chance to verify his skills as a Potioneer, let alone his experimental works. Did he think him an incompetent fool whose only talent lay in the Mind Arts?

‘You do not trust me, do you, Dumbledore?’ he said, his eyes narrowed as he fought to control his temper.

‘If you think that this,’ he said, gesturing to his young face, ‘means I am no longer in possess of my full mental faculties then-’

Dumbledore’s lips twitched and an ugly blush coloured Severus’ cheek.

‘Oh, I do not believe you to be mentally impaired, my boy. The fact that you have come here so willingly and after so little time speaks highly of the sort of man you have become. Alas, we find ourselves in the awkward situation where a party knows the other far better than the other knows him. I ask you to give us time. And as you gave me no reason to mistrust you, I will grant you access to the Potions Lab. In due time I trust that we could replace more than the few potions you retrieved from good Horace’s Office. I would pay you of course, would that be amendable?’ Dumbledore asked.

‘I don’t need your charity,’ Severus hissed, struggling to control his frustration, Dumbledore’s mistrust causing much more discomfort than he would’ve liked to admit.

He pushed his emotions aside, teeth gnashing as he stared at his faded robes. He had every reason to be angry, and yet… Dumbledore raised a silver eyebrow, causing him to become painfully aware of what his emotional outburst could look like, the thought of being accused of acting like a hormonal teenager causing him to Occlude at once. He had no desire to prove Dumbledore’s point and of being accused of being too young to take part in a war. Surely if Potter…

Severus forced himself to take a deep breath, the redness on his face soon replaced by a familiar sneer. Dumbledore didn’t understand, he thought, his eyes inevitably falling once more on the tell-tale signs of his poverty. Severus had only been paid a teacher salary and an allowance to cover the ingredients costs for whatever he brewed for the school and the Order. This was different, and a part of him could not help but question whether Dumbledore might fear he’d run to Lucius Malfoy for money. As though Severus would be stupid enough to do such thing.

Of course, Severus did not have much choice in the matter, it was either that or allowing Lily to pay for his tea, he thought, mildly mortified. It was as close to a job as he could currently get.

‘I would not think of it as charity. If we are to work together it is only fair that I pay you for your services’ he said, looking mildly amused when Severus narrowed his eyes, considering him for a moment.

‘Very well,’ he said, ‘I believe you will not be disappointed, Headmaster. I shall write down some of my experimental works in the meanwhile, as well as potions and spells that are not of my own invention’, he finished stiffly.

‘That would be good, but it is your memories I am most interested in. Am I correct in assuming that your full collaboration depends on whether I will decide to make you an active part of my plans?’ Dumbledore asked lightly.

Severus stiffened, his black eyes never leaving Dumbledore’s as his face slowly became a blank mask. There was no real threat in Dumbledore’s voice and yet Severus couldn’t help but notice that Dumbledore’s eyes were once again calculating. His fingers flexed, the urge to reach out for his wand difficult to stifle as he felt the gentle prodding of Legilimency, a subtle reminder that this Dumbledore was not his friend, that this man did not fully trust him.

‘That would be correct, yes.’

Severus could feel himself tense as a dark shadow fell on Dumbledore’s feature. They had reached a stalemate; Dumbledore would not be able to break into his mind, his gentle prod of Legilimency seemed to have confirmed as much. How far would Dumbledore be willing to go to obtain the information he concealed? Had he been a fool in hoping this man, similarly to his older counterpart would shy away from a more brutal approach? Even at the age of thirty-eight, he would be fooling himself if he thought he’d be a match for the other wizard. He pursed his lips, his face taut as he braced himself for a spell that never came.

How long would he be able to resist were Dumbledore to attack him with no worries of permanently damaging his mind? A shudder travelled down his spine. It would either be his memories or a life on par with Alice and Frank Longbottom. Severus inwardly shivered.

Which would it be? This was a matter of pride, it was no longer a matter of blowing his cover, the thought of losing his mind and be reduced to a vegetative state too much for him to bear. He looked at the older wizard, praying that this Dumbledore, similarly to the man he had known, would refuse to resort to torture, praying that this Dumbledore didn’t know he had already chosen sanity over sheer pride.

A troubled look crossed Dumbledore’s feature. Severus continued to stare at him, ready to call his bluff, until Dumbledore shook his head, his voice gentle as he spoke.

‘I have no intention of harming you, Severus. Had I wanted to use such brutal force on you I would have done so during our first encounter. You are safe here. I think you’ll agree when I say that we cannot hope to defeat Lord Voldemort if we do not trust each other,’ Dumbledore reassured him. Severus averted his eyes and nodded, taking the next breath of fresh air as though he’d been drowning.

‘I shall do my best to protect the life of young Lily Evans were she to find herself in any danger. As of Horcruxes, the book you are looking for is currently in my Office, sixth book on the right behind Fawkes. I trust you will be sensible in your reading. My future-self seemingly placed great trust in you. Once you have acquired that extra bit of knowledge, you might find that he shared with you much more than you originally thought he had. I will trust his judgment on this,’ Dumbledore said, his enigmatic words causing Severus to furrow his brow.

‘Thank you, Headmaster,’ he said stiffly, rising from his chair, his movements deliberately slow as he walked towards Dumbledore’s bookshelves, a part of him still wary of the old headmaster. It wasn’t surprising that the sudden flapping of wings nearly caused him to jump out of his skin. It was a good thing he hadn’t completely forsaken Occlumency or he would have embarrassed himself by displaying such levels of paranoia. Severus scowled, a part of him starting to miss having to deal only with the man’s portrait.

He allowed his fingers to brush on the book Dumbledore had pointed out for him, the candlelight around them flickering as he removed it from the shelf.

‘And one more thing, Severus, if you will,’ Dumbledore said, his right hand stroking the phoenix’s beautiful feathers as he gestured for him to approach.

Had he changed his mind? Severus thought, the Dark Magic emanating from the book he was now holding to his chest making him feel like a child who had just been caught stealing sweets. He watched Dumbledore as the man extended his arm, holding a small vial in his right hand as Fawkes flew back to his perch.

‘It might not reduce the scarring, but it should ease the pain,’ Dumbledore said gently.

‘I-’ Severus stuttered, the soft song that came out of the phoenix’s beak making it clear what Dumbledore was offering. Phoenix tears. The small vial would be worth at least two hundred galleons. He looked at the phoenix, baffled when he understood that the phoenix had freely given them for him, that he had taken a liking to man who had mysteriously been touched by death and survived.

‘Headmaster, I really don’t-’, but he did not have time to finish, because the vial slowly drifted towards him, slipping into his pocket. Dumbledore smiled, his serene expression a dark contrast with Severus’ dark frown. He stared at the vial, feeling the ridges of the ribbed glass beneath his fingers.

‘He gave those tears for you. It would be a waste not to use them. Have a good night, Severus, we shall speak soon.’

Chapter Text

Severus stared at the small vial in his hands, a dark scowl resting upon his thin face.

“Is it your life you are offering me, Severus? Do you not care whether you live or die?”

His face hardened; the heavy shadows cast by the poorly lit Dungeons illuminating his tired face. His mouth thinned, Dumbledore’s words playing over and over in his mind, until a blinding rage engulfed him. His fingers tightened around the precious vial he had been given, the sudden impulse to smash it against the wall almost too strong to resist; if not, that Severus prided himself to be above such emotional reactions. He also wasn’t petty enough to sell the phoenix tears and spiteful enough to live with the pain; a course of action that he would have likely taken in his younger years.

The corner of his mouth pulled downwards in an expression that did nothing to soften his features. Infuriating old coot, he thought, as he entered the Common Room. It was, despite the late hour, still crowded. The murderous look he gave the small group of second years playing chess by the fire, finally achieved the desired effect. They scattered away, all but one boy. The child looked at him with wide, fearful eyes, as though Severus was Slytherin’s monster itself, emerged from the depths of the castle to devour him.

‘Get out of my sight’ he said unkindly, ignoring the unjustness of it all when the boy scurried away in fear.

He looked down at the carpet, placing the chess board back on the coffee table. Children, usually first and second years, had the obnoxious habit of using the Common Room as a playground, running around and tripping over their peer forgotten possessions. Severus had always had little patience for it. He told himself that he had been justified in his gesture, the boys had classes and it was well past curfew. He abhorred having students falling asleep in his classes; except that those were hardly his students and he hardly looked like a professor now.

Severus took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. He needed to think and the mere thought of the school dormitory waiting for him downstairs was causing his skin to crawl.

Fuck…

He grimaced. He could have done with a glass of fire whiskey. That and some time alone. He’d learnt it was better for him to retreat to his lab when he was in such a mood. There was only so much rudeness he could get away with before Dumbledore would give him a frown and ask if he was “alright”. The mere thought of the headmaster caused his lips to twitch in displeasure.

He rubbed his temples, his gaze inevitably falling on the book he had reluctantly been given by Dumbledore. He pocketed Fawkes’ tears in his tattered robes, his gaze sweeping back to the silent room. The Slytherin Common Room was hardly the most suitable place for such readings, but he did not trust himself to go to the Library, nor any deserted classroom, least he found himself followed by Potter and his teenage gang.

Against his better judgment Severus’ lips pulled in a small smile; Potter had been scared of him, the expression on his and Black’s face when they had caught a glimpse of his power bringing him pleasure whenever he thought about it. Of course, his enjoyment was often short lived, for the boy now thought that his change in behaviour was merely a twisted scheme to fool and harm Lily.

The boy would always been a thorn in his side. He should’ve really destroyed that bloody map instead of allowing them to keep the very thing that had brought him to question his sanity in his youth. Not that that would stop them from recreating a new map before he could even begin to enjoy the peace, he thought, sneering. Those boys had relished in his paranoia. His theory of how they must follow him day and night had made Lily both sceptical and uncomfortable, but he now wondered what she’d say if presented with the evidence that he had been right all along.

Of course, how could he blame her for not believing him when, at the time, his theory had sounded absurd to his own ears? An invisibility cloak and a map that had Severus not loathed his school bullies, he would have thought of as both horrifying and impressive.

Would she believe him now? Perhaps she would, but she’d always told him he should be better than them, not ten time worse in his retaliation. Not that this Lily would remember glaring at him after his eighteen-year-old-self had landed her boyfriend in the Hospital Wing with a nasty cut on his arm, something that must’ve left him with a relatively small, but nonetheless permanent scar.

The mixture of horror and betrayal on her face had been something difficult to forget. She’d looked at him like Severus was a beloved pet who had suddenly and inexplicably turned savage. It was in that moment that Severus had realised she was ashamed of having ever called him friend.

Severus clicked his tongue in annoyance, forcing himself to snap out of his thoughts. His black eyes darted across the room as he cast a silent Homenum revelio. Not that any of it really mattered, the book had already been charmed so that it would burn blazing hot to any foreign touch. A minor curse he had applied himself, one that would’ve undoubtedly failed to win Dumbledore’s approval, but a precaution that Severus had deemed necessary nonetheless, especially in the Slytherin Dormitory.

“Once you have acquired that extra bit of knowledge, you might find that my older-self shared with you much more than you originally thought”

He stared at the volume a little longer, a deep frown resting upon his features when he finally opened the book cover and started to read.

“There will come a time – after my death when Lord Voldemort will seem to fear for the life of his snake… When Lily cast her own life between them as a shield, the Killing Curse rebounded upon Lord Voldemort, and a fragment of Voldemort’s soul latched itself on to the only living soul it could find…”

“So, the boy… the boy must die?”

“And Voldemort himself must do it, Severus. That is essential”

“You have kept him alive so he can die at the right moment?”

“Don’t be shocked. How many men and women have you watched die?”

“Lately, only those whom I could not save”

Severus woke up with a start, panting, his face white as a skull as he stared at the green curtains above his head. Greasy strands of hair fell over his face as he moved his aching body, the scar on his neck burning. Fuck, he thought. A rushing sense of nausea took hold of him as he finally understood. He panted, shaking slightly. The boy, Lily’s boy had been an horcrux, how couldn’t he have been and- his hand flew to his mangled flesh- so had been the blasted snake.

He closed his eyes, the sound of his own heartbeat making him slightly queasy. He had loathed the boy the moment he had set foot in the Castle. Potter had been an arrogant, self-satisfied, rule-breaking obnoxious little boy. He had purposelessly placed himself in danger, showing no respect for Lily’s sacrifice, and yet, in his last moments of life, the boy had stood beside him with no hatred in his eyes. Oh, how he had hated those eyes, her only living memory set on a face that Severus had hated. Still, Severus couldn’t help but feel slightly sick at the thought that the boy Lily had given her life for had been a vessel for the Dark Lord’s soul.

How could Potter have even survived the battle? He doubted very much that this Dumbledore would be able to enlighten him on his counterpart’s plan in regards to the boy. Potter had survived, which meant that there had been a plan after all, a plan that, very much like Potter’s most famous deeds, must’ve been shamelessly based on luck.

And what about the other horcruxes? Had there been any other objects that the Dark Lord had been furious upon losing? Severus frowned; Lucius and Bellatrix’s faces slowly coming to the forefront of his mind. His face whitened. Of course, none of them had known. A powerful Dark Artefact, Lucius had said, the fury that the Dark Lord had unleashed upon his old friend upon learning about the diary barely allowing Lucius to go home in one piece. And then there were the Lestranges with whatever the Dark Lord had trusted the to hide within their vaults.

Severus averted his eyes, his stomach churning with a feeling of dread. He needed some time to think, that and a pain-relieving potion. He hesitated before grabbing the phoenix tears vial from his heavily-warded drawer. He got to his feet and headed towards his private bathroom, taking a moment to appreciate the lack of pain that had troubled him when he’d been a man close approaching his forties. He’d felt and looked older, it’d been hard to remember what it felt being young.

He sighed, rubbing his tired face as he entered the bathroom, his greasy hair plastered to his face. He washed his face with icy water, uncorking the vial containing the tears and removing the spells concealing the mangled flesh of his throat. It didn’t look any less sickening than it had done on his first day back. The scars were still of an angry red, their twisted outlines stretching across the whole left side of his neck, only to disappear under the collar of his worn nightshirt. His face looked like hell, no longer pale but sallow and somehow thinner, the lack of sleep and his unhealthy habits finally catching up with this body as well.

He sneered in revulsion, taking a mental note to refrain from reading and performing any Dark Magic for a few days. If he continued to exert his body in such a way, it wouldn’t be long before his appearance started to draw unnecessary attention. The reading of Dark Arts books did not mingle well with sleep deprivation and careless youths. Severus sneered as he pulled off his nightshirt, snatching a loose thread of fabric and transfiguring it in a small, black hair tie. He tied his hair in a low ponytail, that rarely adopted hairstyle combined with his sixteen-year-old face, making his nose appear ridiculously big.

He scoffed as he remembered Lucius insistence in styling his hair in such a way when he had been a youth, forcing him to care a little more for his appearance when participating in his tedious pureblood meetings. Not that he had looked as young as he did now at the time. He had been older and years later, when his features had been hardened by age, such styling had complimented him a bit more, his father’s beak of a nose looking a bit less disproportionate and comical on the sharper and more defined features of a man.

Severus tilted his head on one side. He hissed in pain as the phoenix tears fell on the scars, the vial in his fingers shaking madly. He forced himself to continue, the residual traces of Dark Magic not reacting kindly to Fawkes’ magic. His skin was burning, vapour slowly rising from his wound as he let the last tear fall. He squeezed his eyes shut, the now empty vial shattering on the floor as it slipped away from his trembling fingers.

He looked up. The scar was still there of course, but while still revolting in sight, it was slowly losing its swollen appearance. He gingerly touched it, the Dark Magic coursing through it dormant beneath his skin, no longer poisoning his magic.

The scar on its neck, while still revolting, now looked like something that could have belonged to a human being rather than a corpse. He shuddered as he remembered the first time he had caught a glimpse of himself in the Shirking Shack, his butchered flesh, added with his blood drenched clothes making him look like a reanimated corpse. Was that what his body would have looked like had Sirius Black succeeded in his prank all those years ago?

Severus closed his eyes, his fingers shaking. Perhaps if he’d died, Lily would have still been alive and Severus wouldn’t have had to spend his life haunted by shame and remorse. He wouldn’t have seen children being tortured or stood by as Nagini swallowed Charity Burbage from the head down whilst the Dark Lord’s cold laugh chilled his bones. It’d made him numb; he often wondered whether Dumbledore had felt the same.

For the greater good, he thought bitterly.

Severus often wondered if the so-called heroes would have refused Dumbledore requests or they’d been stupid enough to find another way where no one had to die. He let out a hollow laugh. So many lives lost and for what? The Dark Lord was still there and Severus was tired of this endless war. Was it too much to ask for peace?

He forced himself to look at himself, willing down a surge of revulsion; sometimes he could not help but wonder whether it had all been worth it.

Lily stared at her morning porridge with a disheartened look, the smell coming out of it making her feel positively nauseous. She could feel her head pounding, the loud chatter resonating in the Great Hall not at all welcomed by someone who had just emerged from a restless night.

She gulped, her mouth like dry sand as she cast the steaming bowl aside and poured herself a mug of tea. She sipped it, positively jumping out of her skin when she felt a hand on her shoulder. The sight of Marlene’s fiery hair as she lowered herself on the seat beside her did very little to ease the state of anxiety she irrationally worked herself into.

‘Morning, Lils,’ Marlene said cheerfully, grinning at both her and Dorcas.

Lily’s lips twitched; her attempt at smiling failing miserably as her gaze automatically wandered to the Slytherin table. Before she could start wondering whether he had simply decided to skip breakfast, she spotted him, his hair hanging limply around his pale face. She swallowed, forcing herself to look away, memories of the previous night creeping up to the forefront of her mind.

She’d been afraid, a laughable thought, for in the light of the dull sun illuminating the Great Hall, he looked once again like he’d always done, awfully thin and gangly and not nearly as dangerous as she’d spent the whole night fancying him to be. She averted her eyes, guilt churning in her stomach.

You know it doesn’t mean anything, she told herself for what must’ve been the hundredth time. Potter was wrong. It had been a burst of accidental magic, hardly something worth losing a night’s sleep on. She was being ridiculous. And yet, try as she might, Lily couldn’t help but thinking that the boy she had spent the last few days hanging out with had behaved very little like her best friend.

But even then, Potter’s theory was nothing short of absurd, for who on earth would want to impersonate Sev? She frowned. A student who wished to infiltrate Slytherin? An Auror’s son who wished to gather information on the Death Eaters? She grimaced. It was unlikely. How could another student have impersonated Sev for a whole week without anyone noticing his absence from his own dormitory and classes?

Lily’s expression darkened; but what if it wasn’t another student? What if what she had thought to be an outburst of accidental magic had been a spell performed by a fully-fledged wizard? His manner of speech was odd, yes, but… Lily gulped, not daring to think about it.

An adult living amongst the students… and… her heart started to beat unruly in her chest as her gaze rested once again upon him. If that wasn’t Severus, then where…

Her heart skipped a beat, an uncontrolled rush of fear clutching her chest as her breath died in her throat. They wouldn’t… hurt him, would they?

‘Oi, you alright, Lils?’

She jumped, her wide eyes quickly moving to her side. She tried to smile at Mary, her lips twisting in an expression that ended up looking remarkably like a grimace.

‘I’m fine’ she said. Mary frowned, shrugging as her eyes quickly went back to Sirius, his bark of a laugh causing her to blush.

Lily followed her gaze, Potter’s eyes briefly meeting hers, the meaningful look he gave her making her wonder whether it had truly been him to fire the spell against them. She averted her eyes, fearing Potter would read too much in her gaze or that he would try to make her part of his plans.

Very soon and quite irrationally, she felt a strong rush of anger towards the boy and found herself glaring at him. He had been so arrogant and careless. Had Severus not been able to divert the spell they could’ve both ended up seriously injured.

Potter flinched, the cocky smile he had been giving her, quickly fading from his lips. Her expression hardened as his mouth parted in confusion. Whatever was wrong with Severus, of one thing Lily was certain, Potter would take no part in her plans, not when he had shown himself all too eager to endanger them both just to make a point. But what if that wasn’t Sev?

She stared nervously at the Slytherin table. Even if it was someone else, whoever it was wasn’t necessary evil, was it? Maybe Dumbledore had asked one of the Aurors to investigate which students had Death Eater parents. They had spent entire evenings together and he had never raised a finger against her, hadn’t he?

She swallowed again, ignoring the most rational part of her, the one telling her that if the Severus-look-alike was some foul Death Eater, nothing stopped the imposter from hurting her as soon as she gave him reason to be wary of her.

She wetted her lips. She was being ridiculous. A Death Eater… She would have certainly noticed if she had spent a whole day with one of those monsters, wouldn’t she? She grimaced, her temples throbbing. Nothing seemed to make sense, especially when a part of her still wanted to believe that, if only a bit too suddenly, he could have simply changed for the better, never mind his new unexplained magical skills.

That morning Lily went to her classes with a feeling of dread in her stomach. She barely paid attention as Professor Binns started his lecture on the fourth Goblin rebellion, his droning voice nearly causing her to fall asleep. And she would have probably dozed off hadn’t it been for the realisation that she had still no idea what she should do in regards to her best friend. There was a part of her who suggested that the problem would simply go away if she ignored it was even there. The prospect that Severus might not be Severus was ridiculous after all and…

She shivered, feeling utterly disgusted with herself. And what if it was true? She wasn’t such a coward as to ignore what that meant or to be able to ignore that her friend was potentially in danger.

Lily took a deep breath, fidgeting in her bag and retrieving her battered copy of Magical Drafts and Potions. She stared to read, skimming through the pages. It was in the last chapter of the book that she finally found it: Polyjuice potion. She skimmed the chapter, revising what she remembered and looking for any additional information in regard to the potion consumption and prolonged use on the body. One hour with him, that was all she needed to be sure. Lily’s forehead crinkled in a frown as she closed the book. She checked her watch and as soon as the bell rang, she adjusted the bag strap on her shoulder and hurried to the library.

She just needed to rule out a spell, she thought as she headed straight to the Transfiguration section. She found the book rather quickly, the subject so interesting to her that she had been happy to follow Professor McGonagall’s advice and research it by herself. Transfiguration, unlike Charms and Potions, had never come easy to her. It was therefore unsurprising that at Professor McGonagall’s announcement that they would be starting human transfiguration the following year she had asked why so many wizards were willing to accept the risks of performing those spells instead of simply disguising themselves with Concealment charms or use Polyjuice potion.

She had gotten five points for her question and a good fifteen minutes lecture on the subject. Charms could only fool the eye, she had said. In regard to a profession such as that of an Auror, the safest and more reliable way to transform oneself into another would be to employ Potions. However, when it came to merely altering minor features, Transfiguration would ensure that the disguised feature would not reveal itself for what it was upon the touch.

She re-read the chapter Professor McGonagall had suggested they research, piling up book after book. Four hours later, she found herself confident enough to say that unless the imposter was a Metamorphmagus, he could not have successfully transfigured himself to that extent. Charms did not look like a reasonable option. She had hugged him, touched his face, her touch matching what her eyes saw, his body feeling no different than what she remembered.

Which left… Polyjuice Potion.

The bell rang. Lily’s heart skipped a beat. She had missed lunch and apparently that wasn’t the only thing she had missed. The left pocket of her robes felt warm against her thigh and it was with a feeling of unease that she retrieved a small piece of parchment inside her pocket.

Where are you?

She grimaced, biting her lip as she nervously looked at the door, her hands trembling slightly as she stuffed all her notes in her bag, hiding them in her books. She didn’t bother to write a reply, she was afraid her hand would shake too much if she tried. Still… She stared at the piece of parchment. That definitely sounded like something he would write. Blunt, no niceties and straight to the point. Was the imposter finally catching up? Had he actually taken the time to torture Sev into telling him how to deal with his peers now that Lily had become wary of him?

She bit her lip, shaking, the mere thought enough for her to nearly drop her books. One hour, that was all it would take to either put her worries at ease or to face someone potentially dangerous. She looked around, searching the library until she found a familiar face sitting in a corner.

She opened her mouth, then closed it. Their eyes met for the briefest of seconds before Frank Longbottom whispered something in her ear. Alice’s cheeks turned slightly pink, her eyes lighting up as she kissed him in the corner of his lips. Despite all, a small smile stretched on Lily’s lips. No… Involving Alice was a bad idea; she couldn’t risk putting anyone else in danger. Alice wouldn’t let Lily go if she shared her suspicions. She’d go to Professor McGonagall and what proof did Lily have? If she didn’t show up to their meeting now, he’d know something was wrong and he could hurt Sev.

No, Lily couldn’t risk that. The faint heat coming from the parchment felt scorching against her skin.

She’d face him on her own. She was ready. There was no other way around it.

Severus clicked his tongue in annoyance, his thin lips twisting in displeasure as he stared at the clock, its ticking almost deafening in the silent lab. She was late. Had it been anyone else, he would have been furious at the blatant disregard for wasting his precious time, but she was Lily, and despite the tinge of annoyance he felt, he was mostly worried.

What if something had happened to her? He immediately scowled at his own idiocy, feeling ridiculously like a mother-hen, his apprehension rivalling that of Molly Weasley. He grimaced, the thought that he was acting like an apprehensive parent making him even more uncomfortable, for while not really being father material, he was technically old enough to be her father. He knew she suspected him, of course, for as much as the conversation with Dumbledore had occupied his mind, Severus had not forgotten the feeling of terror that had graced Lily’s features after his own carelessness.

Wandless and wordless magic was a rare thing amongst witches and wizards, skills that required years to developed, years that his teenage-self had yet to live. Truth be told, wandless magic had only come to him in his later years, unlocked by the Dark Lord’s teaching of Ancient Magic and unaided flight. The Dark Lord had always rewarded his most faithful servants, power and knowledge freely given in exchange for torture and murder. And in the last year of his life, he had been very pleased with Severus, very pleased indeed, Severus thought, mildly disgusted with himself.

It had been one of the rewards that had followed Dumbledore’s murder, he remembered, bile rising in his throat. All that knowledge, all that power, everything that he had dreamed of when he had been this very age, had come to a much greater cost than his foolish younger-self could have ever expected. A lifetime of guilt, hatred and misery, not at all what he had expected when he had rolled up his left sleeve, begging the Dark Lord to brand his unmarred skin.

Severus felt a new surge of nausea as he remembered the disgusting young man who had pressed his ear against the door of that filthy inn. The only person who had been kind to him killed simply because she’d been foolish enough to believe there might be something good inside him.

“Do you not care whether you live or die?”

Severus closed his eyes, feeling suddenly very tired. Why would he care? He had long since stopped believing people like him deserved to live. He’d been a tool, nothing more. That had been the only reason why he had not been sent to Azkaban twenty years ago and perhaps, if he had survived the Dark Lord’s demise, that was where he would have gone, for what would he have been to anyone after the war?

He told himself that Dumbledore didn’t understand the depth of his own hopelessness and guilt. But then he remembered the broken man who had met him in the Afterlife and a grimace formed on his lips.

“Do you believe it?” Dumbledore whispered after a while, his voice pleading, making him sound like a frightened child.

“That you killed your sister? No, I cannot say I believe it” he said quietly.

“But what if I did?” Dumbledore asked in a haunted whisper, sounding so terrified that Severus’ heart faltered.

There was irony in the fact that for all his talks about the power of love and forgiveness, Dumbledore had proven himself incapable of taking his own advice at heart.

And if Severus had been lured to the Dark Lord by power, it had certainly been guilt that had irrevocably tied him to Dumbledore, a type of guilt he didn’t know they shared at the time and a desire for someone who, very much like Lily, would think he was decent, that there was something good in him, even if he couldn’t see it.

Severus grimaced, retrieving the small piece of parchment in his tattered robes. His writing was still impressed upon it, but there was no reply. He pursed his lips. If Lily did not wish to see him, then he ought to respect her wishes and let her be. She had been fearful of him, he could not deny that much.

He knew that she must now suspect he wasn’t exactly who he seemed to be. She would be quite right in a way, but how could she ever come to the conclusion that what she saw was merely an older version of her former best friend? A shell of man who could not even bring himself to remember how he used to be at her age, a man who was too tired of living a life full of lies, a man who couldn’t find it within himself to even try.

He leaned on the teacher’s desk. He had always known that she’d become wary of him, but now that the moment had come, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything about it. Indeed, he would rather she stopped talking to him altogether than actively put any effort in saving a friendship that, had she known the truth about him, she would have never wanted to pursue. Where they even friends? How could they be when she hadn’t the faintest idea of who he was, of what he’d done?

He sighed, a part of him wishing she would simply ignore his message and never show up. He glanced at the boiling cauldrons to his left, grimacing when his eyes fell upon one of the students’ desks, the ingredients necessary for the potion she wished to revise neatly arranged. It was only in that moment that he realised that he was leaning on the teacher’s desk. For God’s sake, he thought sneeringly, realising for the first time that he had been unconsciously preparing himself for a nice little lecture.

Yes and why don’t you write the instructions on the board? That would certainly go well, he thought, an ugly sneer gracing his lips. As far as Lily knew, Severus had not spent the last sixteen years of his life as a Potions Master; as far as she knew, very much like her, he was a student who wished to revise the potion in view of his O.W.L.s.

He wasn’t her teacher, he told himself, he most definitely wasn’t her teacher. For once, he would have never set the table for any of his students; as a matter of fact, he would have probably killed anyone daring to make such a suggestion, and… he looked at the ingredients on the table. Would she resent him for that gesture?

His snarl grew more pronounced. He had neither offered to crush, dice nor reduced any of the ingredients to a fine powder. He was nothing like Potter, his own… thoughtfulness or whatever that was, could easily be explained by boredom, that and his own nervousness.

Severus averted his eyes, nervous at the prospect she might still show up, if not to brew the Draught of Peace, then to shove Veritaserum down his throat. He half smiled at the thought, the smile leaving his face at once when he heard movement behind the door. He bit his tongue, doing all in his power to prevent himself from muttering the familiar “enter”.

His heart skipped a beat as she walked in the Potions classroom, the wariness in her eyes quickly becoming his own.

‘You’re late,’ he said, matter-of-factly, his voice, despite all, betraying a hint of annoyance.

She did not answer, but a small frown touched her features. Lily or not, they both knew that Severus Snape, both the man and the boy, had never been fond of tardiness. And sure enough, after a few seconds, she seemed to relax slightly, the hand she had been keeping on what he suspected must have been her wand reaching out for the strap of her bag. She clutched it, approaching him as though he were a snake ready to strike.

He stared at her. There were dark circles under her eyes. Still, as she stopped in front of him, her eyes burned with barely concealed anger. For a moment it looked as though she was about to say something. She opened her mouth and closed it, her expression quickly becoming that of someone who had just stopped themselves from uttering something incredibly stupid.

He saw her frown, her eyes briefly wondering to his face, a face he knew must look both foreign and familiar to her eyes. He was tempted to avert his eyes, eyes that he knew would betray him. And he did look away, until he felt a hand closing on his thin arm. He winced, startled and she startled too, because she let go straight away.

But she wasn’t done yet and his eyes widened as she raised her hand again, her fingers barely touching his cheek before he pulled back.

‘What do you think you’re doing!’ he snapped, unable to stop himself, his face burning where she had touched him, her fingers inches from his scarred neck.

She looked at him with uncertainty but did not say anything. It was in that moment that he understood what she had been doing. Charms, she was checking to see whether he was disguising himself with a charm. Severus scowled, nearly snorting; of course, she was. He walked towards the cauldrons, bristling at the thought of what would have happened had he truly been a stranger wanting to hurt her. She would have gotten herself killed; he thought angrily. Blasted Gryffindors, her son too had never had a gift for subtlety.

Lily took a step back, looking at her hand as though it had just betrayed her, her heart beating deafeningly in her own ears when she noticed that he looked angry. Why did she have to be so impulsive?

‘I’m sorry’ she said, looking at his back, waiting for him to lash out, for she really couldn’t have been more obvious. Severus would have been ashamed, really.

She waited, but he didn’t turn back, nor did he lash out. She gulped, her hand shaking so much that she had to hide it in her pocket. Perhaps it is him, she considered, staring at the greasy black hair, his renewed disregard for it and rudeness both sad and reassuring. She stared at those black eyes of his, eyes that seemed to have lost that distant, empty look that had often graced his face in those previous days. He looked much more like himself than he had done in days and it was making her head spin.

She glanced at the clock resting on the wall behind the teacher’s desk. One hour, one hour and she’d finally able to put her worries at ease. No more living with this growing sense of unease. If his current behaviour was anything to go by, her worries were nothing more than a mere product of Potter’s blabbering and her own paranoia, she thought, snapping out of her thoughts when she realised he was now staring at her with a look of impatience.

It was only in that moment that Lily realised she had done nothing but stare at him, her facial expression probably giving away much more than she would’ve liked to admit. She grimaced. She was being weird, wasn’t she? She already knew he wasn’t using a charm, so why had she felt the need to touch his face? She was very lucky that he looked annoyed rather than suspicious. Indeed, she could consider herself lucky that she hadn’t given in on the impulse to start yelling at him and demand an explanation, for upon entering the classroom, Lily had been ready to hex him.

Did he know she suspected him to be someone else? Lily shot him a worried look. Of course, he didn’t, she told herself. He was yet to react violently, wasn’t he? She took a deep, calming breath. She was best friend with a Slytherin, how hard could it be to act and think like Severus normally did?

‘I didn’t mean to keep you waiting,’ she said, proud of herself when her voice didn’t shake. Still, she wetted her lips, her throat feeling painfully dry when he didn’t reply.

She stiffened when he retrieved his wand from an inside pocket, his black eyes staring right through her. He was looking at her unblinkingly, his expression so intense and serious that Lily took a small step back. Did he know? She stared at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

‘You are dehydrated,’ he said, with the same tone he had used to inform her of her lateness, something that seemed to imply he found her stupid.

Lily exhaled slowly, whatever she had expected him to say, it wasn’t that. He gave her a strange look before turning his back to her. She saw him walking towards a cupboard and kneel in front of it to retrieve an empty vial. He murmured something under his breath and tapped it with the tip of his wand. The vial turned into a glass that looked remarkably like one of the beautiful golden goblets in the Great Hall.

‘Aguamenti,’ she heard him say, and after an elegant movement of his wand, a crystal-clear liquid appeared in the previously empty goblet.

Lily blinked, whatever she had expected him to do it hadn’t been this. She stared into those deep black eyes, startled by their intensity, before he handed her the goblet without even looking at her.

‘Here,’ he said, brusquely, ‘I cannot risk you dying of dehydration during our brewing session’ he said, that brusque and unexpected show of thoughtfulness leaving her temporarily at loss.

She saw him slowly remove his cloak with a scowl, despite all, a spark of worry flickering in her eyes as she saw just how thin he was. He hesitated for a moment, then he rolled up his sleeves and opened his book without a word, skimming through the pages with unmistakable familiarity. Lily walked towards him and settled at his side, the goblet still in her hand.

‘If I wished to poison you, Lily, I assure you, I would be far more discrete,’ he said dryly, the sound of his voice causing her to jump.

She looked at him, her face immediately turning scarlet. And yet, it took her a few moments to gather the courage to take the first sip. She swallowed, her heart beating fast. Nothing happened, which only caused her to get more flustered, her own nervousness giving her away.

‘I knew you wouldn’t poison me,’ she said, unhelpfully, earning herself a raised eyebrow and blushing even more.

She looked at the book that lay between his pale arms, her eyes resting on his pockets as she searched for the signs of some hidden vial or flask. She saw nothing. She watched him as he turned the pages of the book and caught a glimpse of a page completely covered in his scrammed, minuscule handwriting. He turned the page before she could even start to decipher it, but it was enough for her to remember the wariness of his expression when she had spotted him butchering his own essay.

She grimaced with unease. She had thought it was funny, hadn’t she? She looked at him, slightly nauseous, her own idiocy making her sick as doubts and worries crept back in her mind, stronger than before. She took a deep breath, trying not to panic. Oh, he was good, wasn’t he? He must’ve noticed she had become wary of him and put an effort to make his act more believable. Had he used Veritaserum on the real Severus? Had he finally decided to gather more information on how he treated his friends now that he had realised she had become suspicious of him?

Lily looked away for a moment, feeling positively ill as she looked at him. Severus had never cared about his appearance and yet in that last week he had gone out of his way to improve it. She stared at his robes, no longer torn, his smooth face, his posture.

His hair was greasy, but not as greasy as it used to be. It wasn’t a rare occurrence for him to go four or five days without washing it. Lily didn’t know how he could estrange himself from his body so much as to not be bothered by it, but she had come to accept that that was Severus for you and the thought that a hypothetical imposter might have been so disgusted by Sev’s appearance to take it upon himself to improve it did not sit well with her.

How dare he? She thought, thinking of how immoral it was. He must’ve seen him naked and… Lily blushed, both in anger and embarrassment. She stared at him, eyes lit with outrage and anger. He turned to look at her, raising that infuriating eyebrow once again.

‘I was under the impression you wanted to brew,’ he said in that infuriating and soulless lilt he had recently started using, something that Lily could no longer find within herself to find strangely amusing. He sounded like…

‘Why do you have to talk like that?’ she asked brusquely, unable to hold her tongue any longer, ‘you… You sound like that Malfoy. You said you stopped hanging out with them and now here you are. If I didn’t know you, I’d say you were one of those stuck up pureblood Slytherin,’ she said, staring him straight in the eyes.

He looked at her, mildly surprised.

‘I do not sound like Lucius Malfoy,’ he said automatically, his voice insufferably unchanged and yet, now that he no longer looked taken aback, Lily could’ve sworn he looked slightly amused. She noticed how his lips had curled at the name “Lucius”, almost as though the surname had been added more as an afterthought. Was he still in contact with him? That boy and the way he had taken Severus under his wing had always given her the creeps.

A blood supremacist from an old and ancient family who, contrary to most of their peers, had been clever enough to look past Severus’ dirty hair and ragged robes and see him for who he really was: a brilliant boy who could serve him well in the future. Lily shuddered. Contrary to the likes of Mulciber, Lucius Malfoy had been far more careful in openly revealing his political view, which, according to Lily, made him far more dangerous.

‘Are you still in contact with him?’ she asked, her mouth feeling a little dry. Severus looked at her for a couple of seconds.

‘I was. However, it could be a dangerous game to lead him on now that I no longer have any wish to join the cause,’ he said calmly, his blatant honestly causing a cold shiver to run down her spine. She saw him tracing his mouth with a long finger and gulped.

‘Won’t he be angry if you tell him that?’ she asked, asking herself for the umpteenth time how could she have thought that there wouldn’t be complications for his sudden change of heart; that his friends would just accept it. ‘Your housemates didn’t look very happy,’ she added with unease.

Severus huffed, his lips twitching into a small smile. He looked at her pointedly.

‘I’m not stupid enough to shout my political views for the world to hear,’ he said. It took a while for the implications of his words to sink in, but when they did, Lily’s eyes widened, a heavy weight falling in her stomach.

‘So, do they still think-’ she started, struggling to find her voice.

‘I have to share a dormitory with them, Lily. I am not suicidal. I might be able to ward off my bed, but I’d like to avoid open hostility, there are only so many of them I can duel. Once we’re all out school I doubt they’ll have enough time to think as to why Severus Snape has not joined their midst,’ he sneered, the bitterness of his voice causing her to wince.

She stared at him, completely at a loss, the amount of information he had just dropped on her difficult to process. Ward his bed…? She blinked. Did that mean that… What…

‘But-’

‘Now, The Draught of Peace,’ he said, with the air of someone who had just taken a long and unnecessary digression, never mind they had been discussing the possibility of him being seriously worried about being injured in his sleep. And now here he was, standing with an unmistakable note of finality in his voice, completely oblivious to the effect his words had just had on her.

Lily’s lips parted. Did he really expect her to drop the subject? That the conversation was over just because he said so? Who did he think he was? He wasn’t her father, nor her teacher, he really shouldn’t… Lily took a deep breath. If that wasn’t him, he was certainly making a wonderful impression on being just as thick headed as the real Severus was. She bit her tongue. The conversation would have to wait, she couldn’t go on a rant and risk him leaving, she needed to keep him there for a bit longer.

She glanced at the tickling clock: fifty minutes. She would watch him brew and then she’d keep him talking for the remaining time. It should be easy enough, shouldn’t it? She gulped, glaring at his ramrod-straight back as he lit the cauldron.

I do not speak like Lucius Malfoy. She huffed, the voice in her head mimicking his. No, she thought, I speak like that because I have a stick up my arse and there is a 50% chance, I’m not actually Severus Snape, she finished in her head, grimacing. Pompous git, she thought, carefully reading the recipe. She looked at the list of ingredients and frowned.

‘Shouldn’t it be eight porcupine quills?’ she asked, staring at him with renewed suspicion.

She thought she saw his lips twitch, but contrary to what she had expected he did not remove what, Lily was now only starting to realise, was not the only extra ingredients. She knew he liked to modify his potions, she did that too, but...

‘I know you like to experiment, but this potion is extremely volatile, shouldn’t we just follow the recipe first? Unless… Have you…’ she started at the neatly arranged ingredients on the table and frowned, ‘have you brewed it before?’ she finished tentatively.

Severus looked at her for a moment, as though he was refraining from saying something; then he sighed and nodded.

‘Yes, and I assure you that at the end of this session we will produce a potion that is perfectly safe to consume,’ he said confidently.

Lily stared at him, unconvinced, not finding it within herself to berate him for his arrogance, a quality so unmistakably his that, once again, she found herself wondering what exactly she was doing there. Her frown deepened, but she let that slip, determined as she was to observe him.

‘Sev?’ she called, in what she hoped was a perfectly neutral tone.

He looked at her once more, a note of wariness in his eyes. He was staring at her as though daring her to question him, the hint of annoyance in his gaze causing her to grimace. Right. He had always been brilliant in potions, his intuition making him a genius, but that was taking it a bit too far. Lily had every right to be wary of his formula, he couldn’t just look at her like that. Who did he think he was? Britain’s most renewed Potions Master?

Lily had to bit her tongue, struggling to kept those thoughts to herself.

‘Could you write the modified formula for me, please? If we’re going to brew together, I’d like to know what we’re doing,’ she said, her voice remaining casual and steady.

He looked at her with those unfathomable black eyes, the hairs on the back of her neck standing. For a split second she had the uneasy feeling that he knew what she was doing. Please, she thought. It was a perfectly reasonable request and we both know it. He did not reply and it suddenly occurred to her that perhaps he was no longer willing to share his formula; not after Lily had so much as told him he was being careless in brewing an advanced modified potion in the absence of a teacher. She found herself grimacing. Had she really told Potter that he was by far the most arrogant of the two?

‘You can just write it in your book, I just want to look at it,’ she added, earning herself another raised eyebrow and what sounded almost like a scoff. He shook his head as he retrieved a bottled of ink and a quill, his hand moving fast as he crossed and re-wrote sometimes words, sometimes entire paragraphs. She frowned, staring at his back and waiting. He was leaning forward, yes, but he wasn’t writing with his face only a few inches from the book like she’d so often seen him do.

Where was the round-shouldered boy who was only a little bit less twitchy when he was by her side? The boy who’d laugh at her jokes and speak passionately about a world made of magic where nothing was impossible? Probably locked in a cupboard, she answered herself with a grimace.

She kept staring at him. To the best of her knowledge, there weren’t spells that could emulate one’s writing. The note he'd sent her had looked close enough to Sev’s handwriting, but it had only been three words and Lily doubted very much that anyone would be able to write a whole page in someone else’s writing without some kind of reference. She watched him as he dipped his quill a few more times, then he muttered a drying spell and handed her the book.

‘Here,’ he said with a strange look.

She took the book from his hands, her fingers brushing against his, before he moved away. She stared at the battered old textbook, trying not to make it to obvious that she wasn’t just reading the recipe. The handwriting on the stained pages of the book was as small and spidery as she remembered, if not slightly more elegant and legible. Still, a writing that was unmistakably his, she thought, comparing it to the notes belonging to the potion preceding The Draught Of Peace.

There were subtle differences, but nothing that couldn’t be explained with the fact that the notes he had just written had not been scrambled on the page with the knowledge they would not be privy to his eyes alone. With a delicate potion such as this, it made perfect sense that he would go through the trouble of giving her something that wasn’t as rushed and nearly indecipherable as usual.

Lily sighed, her frown deepening as she grabbed the porcupine quills and started to reduce them to a fine powder. They worked in silence, with Lily occasionally glancing at him, checking that he would not suddenly decide he needed to take a sip from a suspicious looking flask.

But Severus didn’t drink and instead, Lily found herself staring in awe at his hands as he chopped the valerian roots with absurd ease. She watched him stir the cauldron with his slender fingers, barely glancing at the book she had settled between them. She couldn’t help but stare as she remembered how he had managed to salvage her ruined potion in their previous class. He had always looked different when brewing, confident, his movements losing that twitchy quality he had outside the classroom.

It had been months since they had brewed anything together and for the first time Lily wondered whether he hadn’t just focused on his Potions research. She had assumed he had spent all his free time experimenting with Dark Magic and yet… She stared at those deep black eyes as, with a swift, delicate motion, he added the powdered moonstone into the cauldron. Guilt stirred in the pit of her stomach; the sense of uneasiness almost unbearable. It was very difficult to keep thinking it might not be him.

She glanced at the tickling clock, her lips stretching in a small smile: twenty minutes. She stared at him, mildly surprised as he lowered the heat of his cauldron, his potion now a perfect shade of silver. She blinked, her eyes drifting to the clock once more. Had he… she shifted on her feet, staring at the bright orange of her potion, had he just successfully halved the brewing time of his potion? She looked at him in disbelief. How on earth had he done that?

Lily couldn’t believe it and yet his potion looked exactly like the book said it should, the light silver vapour oozing from the cauldron filling the air around them. She averted her eyes, a heavy weight falling on her stomach. As much as she didn’t like to admit it, Severus had always been better than her in Potions. He had always showed an affinity for the subject that was similar to what she had for Charms. She’d been good, and yet it now looked as though they were worlds apart. He probably studied more than you did, she told herself; ashamed.

She scratched the back of her neck, feeling all of a sudden as self-conscious as she had felt when she had first set foot in Hogwarts and everyone had seemed to know much more about magic than she had.

Potions had been something he had started to teach her when they had been children. Snatching one of his mum’s old books and telling her the importance of understanding how the ingredients interacted with one another. And later on, when they had come to Hogwarts, Lily had found that she had an affinity with the subject. Her experiments and addition had always been of a milder nature than his, but they had been enough to produce excellent concoctions and make of her a skilled Potioneer in her own rights.

Something about her look must’ve given away the suffocating feeling of worthlessness that had enveloped her heart, because all of a sudden, Severus turned to look at her. Lily tried to school her features in a smile and failed. She stiffened when he said nothing, half expecting him to look down his nose at her, because hadn’t this just proven who the better Potioneer of the two was?

Knowing Severus, it was only a matter of time before he’d look at her with a smug, superior look, especially after she had so openly questioned his skills. They had always been competitive with one another, his uncanny display of arrogance not nearly as misplaced as she had thought. And yet, there was no malice in those deep black eyes, his face showing no hint of being aware of having performed something extraordinary.

She blinked as he gave one final stir to his cauldron and placed a Stasis Spell on it, before leaning back, his back resting against the table behind them. His gaze wandered to the Potions classroom, before setting back on her. She knew she was behind and she felt herself blushing as he watched her adding the powdered unicorn horn and delicately stir her own potion until it turned red and then purple.

She wiped her forehead with the back of her sleeve, thankful that despite being still five steps behind him her potion looked as the book said it should at this stage. At the very least he wouldn’t have to save her potion like he had done in Slughorn’s class, that too had been something extraordinary. Lily sighed, turning down the heat and starting to count down three minutes. Her eyes flickered to the clock and then back on him.

‘Sorry, it’ll probably take another ten minutes,’ she muttered, a dull blush creeping up her cheeks.

He looked at her without a word, his expression unreadable. Lily watched him apprehensively as he moved a little closer, his hair hanging limply around his thin face as he looked down at her cauldron. His stringy hair and large nose made him look uncannily like a bird of prey.

‘No matter. Still, you only partially followed my instructions, may I ask why?’ he asked, his voice neither harsh nor reproachful; in fact, he seemed to be genuinely interested in hearing the answer.

His tone was overly formal again. Lily opened her mouth and closed it, for truly, what could she say?

‘Do you not trust me?’ he asked, a note of uncertainty in his voice, and Lily had the alarming realisation that he looked as though her luck of trust was to be expected.

She gulped. What had she done? Potter, Mary, Marlene, Dorcas… Why did she have to listen to any of them? What was she even doing here? Why couldn’t she just trust him? Was she a horrible person for doubting him? Was any of this justified?

Lily averted her eyes, ashamed. After a while it had become all too clear that his adjustments were not dangerous but it really wasn’t about that, was it? Did she, could she trust him as in him, Severus? No, or they wouldn’t be here, she thought with a bitter taste in her mouth. If she trusted him, they wouldn’t be in this class with Lily half-thinking he might be someone else, rather than actually believing he might have had a genuine change of heart.

She looked at the clock with a lump in her throat: one minute. She took a deep breath, biding her time as she kept staring at his familiar face, her eyes never leaving him. Please, let it be him, let it be Severus, she found herself praying, jumping in fear when the bell rang.

She stared for a good twenty seconds at his face before her eyes started to prickle and she gave him a smile. Her next breath felt as though she’d just emerged from underwater. It was Severus, it was really him. Against all odds, he really had changed and Lily suddenly felt like crying, because never in her life she’d been so happy to have been so wrong. She smiled warmly at him, her heart lighter than ever as she finally felt safe to let go.

‘I do’, and without another word, uncaring of how weird it’d look, she threw herself into his arms and hugged him tight, her heart finally at peace.

Chapter Text

Lily laid on her bed, a small smile stretching across her face as she sighed in relief. She felt as though she had just been through a particularly nasty exam, all the tension that had accompanied her through the last couple of days suddenly gone. She retrieved a small vial from her pocket and stared at the silvery-white liquid inside. It was his, the one he’d brewed, the colours so clear and beautiful that she kept staring at it, almost mesmerised.

He’d told her that it would see her through the whole duration of the exams with little to no side effect and that no he truly did not need it. She looked fondly at it, trying to squash out the guilt that kept gnawing her stomach for ever having doubted him.

She wanted to do something nice for him, something that would make amend for her past behaviour. He must’ve thought her mad, she pondered, recalling how his body had immediately gone rigid as she had hugged him out of the blue. Lily sighed. Why did she end up acting like a child when she was around him? Somehow, she doubted he had believed her excuse about merely being stressed for the exams. Or maybe he had, which was probably why he had said she needed the potion more than he did. Lily’s cheeks flushed. God, he must’ve thought she was an idiot.

She sighed, her fingertips caressing the smooth edges of the vial. Yes, she really was an idiot, she thought. Marlene wished her good night, frowning ever so slightly as she closed the curtains of her bed. And yet, Lily smiled all the same, because Severus was Severus and he truly had changed for the better. She had spent so much time worrying and assuming the worst that now that it was over she felt positively exhausted.

“I think he must’ve done something to himself, he wasn’t like… like that a week ago”

Lily scoffed. Of course, he had. Turns out, Sev had just decided to spend his free time studying, instead of going around hexing people. How could she have actually believed Potter might be right? The thought that one could “do something to himself” to do well in school was absurd. If there really were such a spell, there would be no need for school and purebloods like Mulciber and Avery would certainly not risk failing their O.W.L.s.

Well, there was no reason to worry now that she had her best friend back; still, she worried about the other Slytherins. How could he be safe in a place where his housemates would attack him if they thought him to be anything but a blood supremacist? Would they be angry at him for going back on this promise of becoming a Death Eater? She shuddered at the thought. Would they try to hurt him even if they were all still in school?

“I have to share a dormitory with them, Lily. I am not suicidal. I might be able to ward my bed, but I’d like to avoid open hostility, there are just so many of them I can duel”

Yes, they definitely need to talk about that. Lily felt her eyelids flutter shut, her limbs growing heavier as she turned around, slowly drifting into sleep.

There was still a sliver of red in the sky when Severus walked down the corridors leading to the Headmaster’s tower, the lingering daylight shining through the tall windows reluctant to leave its place to increasingly shorter nights. He stopped in front of the stone Gargoyle, the dying day casting harsh shadows on its empty eyes as it slowly revealed the winding stairs leading to Dumbledore’s office.

Severus stared at it with a feeling of unease. He sighed as the stone gargoyle slid back into his place, the faint sounds coming from the corridor fading into nothingness. The narrow walls closed in around him, the stone steps too narrow to allow the passage of more than one man.

He took a deep breath. It wasn’t the first time he lingered in such a place more than any sane person would. He had often paused there to let his anger subside as a professor or to allow himself time to collect his thought as a spy, pushing his emotion aside so he could play his role. Before he died, that hated place had become his only sanctuary, the closing of the passage meaning he could allow himself to drop the mask of loyal Death Eater and Dumbledore’s murderer.

He had often hoped that upon ascending those stairs he would find Dumbledore waiting for him; for Dumbledore would see past his mask, he’d known Severus wasn’t a monster. But of course, Severus had killed Dumbledore. His hand shook, his mouth suddenly dry. He forced himself to gulp, digging his fingernails into his palm before he could find himself spiralling again. He sneered, cold sweat running down his temple.

He closed his eyes, forcing himself to regain some composure. It wasn’t for his friend long gone, nor for his insufferable portrait, but for a man who did know him. This Dumbledore did not love him, nor did he trust him, never mind that Severus had laid himself bare in front of his eyes.

“Alas, we find ourselves in the awkward situation where a party knows the other far better than the other knows him. I ask you to give us time”

Severus’ jaw grew rigid. Death Eater, Professor, Headmaster and spy… Who was he now that he did not look a day older than one of those rascals he’d used to teach? Now that Dumbledore would not even allow him to take part in the war? Now that he would look at Severus as though he was something used and broken? A misplaced tool he did not quite know where to put?

Severus’ lips pressed into a thin line. He’d followed Dumbledore around, craving his approval and having to fight his own jealousy when Harry Potter had come along and Dumbledore had once again favoured a Potter over him. And Severus was ashamed to admit that he missed that Dumbledore.

The man currently waiting for him on the other side of the door wasn’t the one he remembered. He wouldn’t invite Severus for tea or send him a pair of brightly coloured socks for Christmas. He would not listen to his rants about Harry Potter and the incompetency of his students with a sad smile; that man, very much like the younger Severus, no longer existed.

Severus ascended the stairs, knocking on the door and stepping inside without a word. The Pensieve no longer occupied Dumbledore’s desk. This time the memories of his past rested in a small vial on the Headmaster’s desk, silvery white and no more tangible than mist. He met Dumbledore’s gaze and for a second he hated him for asking him to relive his life, for asking this much of him.

‘Good evening, Severus. How are you feeling?’ Dumbledore asked, his voice gentle as he gestured for him to take a seat.

“Has it ever crossed your brilliant mind that maybe I do not want to do this anymore?”

Severus closed his eyes for a second, memories of the past mingling with the present. His temples were pulsing, Dumbledore’s eyes were now staring at him with something akin to curiosity, as though Severus was an interesting piece of a puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out where to put. There was pity in his eyes and Severus could barely stand it, not when it came from this stranger.

“Are you alright, Severus? I must say, you look exhausted”

He shook his head and pushed those emotions aside; Merlin help him, if he allowed himself to prove Dumbledore right and look all the more pathetic.

He settled on the armchair with a scowl, his dignified composure soon broken by a glimpse of red and the flutter of wings as he felt the phoenix talons prickling his thighs. He froze. It looked as though the Headmaster wasn’t the only one utterly fascinated by Severus’ mere existence.

‘Headmaster, I-’ he began. He stiffly tried to push the bird off him, but the phoenix didn’t budge; instead, Fawkes closed his beady eyes, ruffling his feathers as he made himself more comfortable. Dumbledore gave him a small smile.

For a moment Severus did not move, then he sighed and stiffly began stroking the soft scarlet feathers. There was nothing natural about that movement. His eyes never left Dumbledore, but after a while the warmth of the phoenix’s body slowly caused his tense muscles to relax. Dumbledore might not trust him, but it wasn’t as though Severus had lured the phoenix to him with Dark Magic.

He’d never been disillusioned enough to think his father wouldn’t harm any potential creature he brought home and as an older man he’d been too busy to contemplate the thought of having a pet. He looked down at the scarlet bird and realised with a hint of shock that the phoenix trusted him. For a man that had always regarded pets as something inconvenient, he could now almost see the appeal of having a creature that would not be repelled by his touch, that would look up at him and think he was something broken and twisted.

Could the phoenix sense something in him? Surely, he ought to know better than abandon himself next to a near stranger? Had the bird any cognition of who Severus was? Or what’d he’d done? After all, hadn’t Severus killed his master?

The phoenix stirred, raising his beautiful head and it was in that moment that Severus realised his hand had stopped stroking him. There was a curious look in those eyes, a spark of intelligence and intensity that was almost unnerving. Severus averted his eyes, his gaze now wandering to a pair of blue eyes that were nearly as unnerving as that of the brightly coloured bird.

He cleared his throat, his mouth twitching unpleasantly as he realised, he was still to answer Dumbledore’s question.

‘I- Yes… thank you for the tears,’ he said curtly, doing his best to ignore the weight of the phoenix on his lap.

Dumbledore nodded and after another short pause, Severus retrieved a small object from one of his inside pockets, returning it to its original size with one small flick of his wand.

‘I have brought your book back, Headmaster,’ he said, hastily leaving the book on Dumbledore’s desk and distancing himself from it.

It was with a heavy feeling in his chest that Severus had decided it was time to part with it. It had been one of the most interesting read he had had in years. It was only his awareness of Dumbledore’s mistrust that had prevented him from re-reading it. The temptation to note down some of those spells and rituals had been almost impossible to resist. He knew that kind of magic would take a visible toll on his young body; he knew Dumbledore would notice.

He could have gotten away with it with the older counterpart, he knew Severus’ weaknesses. Alas, he wasn’t at all sure whether this Dumbledore would be pleased to know that his fascination with the Dark Arts had not died with his defection. Nor that Severus had not completely shied away from Dark Magic, its call still luring him like a sirens song he couldn’t help but follow whenever he heard it being played.

‘I trust it was an interesting reading’ Dumbledore said wearily, stroking his beard. There was a note of worry in his eyes, as though he was wondering whether he had made the right choice in providing a man with his past with such a book. Not that Severus would have been willing to compromise on the matter.

‘Very,’ he said dryly, resisting the urge to cross his arms defensively.

Dumbledore had always feared his fascination with the Dark Arts, but it was all too clear that this man was not fully convinced he would not commit the same mistakes now that Lily was safe. Of course, it wasn’t just about Lily. He might’ve not understood why at the beginning, but somewhere along the way, he had started to believe that what they were fighting for was right, that the world the Dark Lord believed in wasn’t one he wanted to become a reality.

Severus looked up at Dumbledore, a muscle in his jaw twitching as he fought to hide his own bitterness and disappointment.

Trust Dumbledore to make him feel useless and unworthy of his trust once more. It did not matter that he could understand this man had seen nothing more than a few glimpses of his past and that it was unreasonable of him to ask him to trust Severus like his counterpart had.

“I ask you to give us time…”

Severus forced himself to unclench his jaw. He took a crystal vial out of his worn pocket, his memories swirling lazily against the smooth surface of the glass.

‘I have more,’ he said after a while, his voice once again emotionless as he handed him the vial. Without knowing what possessed him to do so, he looked Dumbledore straight in the eye. They stared at each other for a few moments.

‘The boy was a horcrux,’ he said.

Dumbledore nodded, looking so much like the older Dumbledore that Severus’ eyes automatically drifted to his hand, his brain fooling him into thinking they were once again in that office discussing Potter’s fate.

‘He was,’ he replied, his eyes bright and full of sadness as he looked at the darkening sky, the phoenix letting out a mournful cry as he flew back to its perch.

‘How did he survive?’ he asked seriously, voicing one of the questions that had plagued him since he had connected the dots and found the truth about the boy. The book had been very clear about what happened when a living horcrux was destroyed. Dumbledore had had a plan, something much more complex that merely sending the boy to his death.

Dumbledore frowned as he got on his feet, retrieving the Pensieve and pouring the content of the vial inside. They stared at the shimmering liquid as the memories stilled, the light coming from the Pensieve casting heavy shadows onto Dumbledore’s face.

‘How indeed?’

Dumbledore studied him for a few moments.

‘We can only guess, though I’d rather not indulge in speculations,’ Dumbledore said pensively, looking deeply troubled as he stroked his beard. Severus bit the inside of his cheek, struggling to hide his annoyance at Dumbledore’s unwillingness to answer his question. Indeed, Severus knew the man well enough to know he must have indeed spent a long time indulging in speculations.

‘But you must have a theory, Dumbledore,’ he said bluntly. Dumbledore sighed, his long fingers, which had been caressing his wand, stopping the motion for a second before resuming it. Their eyes met for a brief moment, those bright eyes seemingly staring right through him.

‘More than one, each wilder than the one that preceded it,’ he confessed at last.

‘And I suppose you do not trust me enough to share them with me, do you, Dumbledore?’ Severus said, unable to fully conceal his own resentment. Dumbledore shook his head.

‘I’m afraid not, I ask you to give us time,’ the Headmaster said, pointing his wand at the cabinet concealing the Pensieve. Severus watched the stone basin as it gently levitated towards Dumbledore’s desk. His words had stung, never mind that Severus had forced him to answer, Dumbledore’s honesty was strangely unwelcome. The silvery-white memories contained in his vial were poured inside the Pensieve, swirling before disappearing in its depths. Dumbledore looked at the setting sun, his eyes far away.

‘Is there anything else you need from me, Headmaster?’ Severus asked. Dumbledore shook his head again.

‘Please, do not mistake my lack of trust for ungratefulness, Severus. I understand this situation must be difficult for you, so let me ask you the question in turn. Is there anything I can do to make your life more comfortable for the time being? It has come to my attention that your living situation has become less than ideal,’ he asked calmly, a searching look lingering in his eyes.

Severus’ lips parted in disbelief; then his jaw twitched. Of course, he was being followed, he thought, his eyes drifting over Phineas Nigellus’ portrait. He wasn’t stupid enough to believe the man omniscient like they all did. It also occurred to him that he was an oddity, a dead man walking in the body of one of his students, carrying into his mind all the answers Dumbledore could have wished for. Being discreetly followed was the least he could have asked for.

And yet, despite all, Dumbledore looked worried. Whether it was pity for his predicament or fear Severus would share the information held within his mind with anyone else, he could not tell. Nonetheless, neither was welcome. Still, he wondered how much Dumbledore knew of his exchanges with Mulciber and Rosier. Silent charms or not, Mulciber’s scene would have been difficult to ignore.

‘A group of angry fifth years poses a ludicrous threat when half the Order and Death Eaters were taking great pleasure in cursing me behind my back. Indeed, I daresay that the only thing stopping Minerva McGonagall and the rest of my colleagues from actively trying to murder me was only the possibility that someone worse might come along. Needless to say, I know how to watch my back,’ he said with a derogatory sneer.

‘It must’ve been a lonely life,’ Dumbledore said, his voice holding no mockery, but sounding simply sad.

Severus averted his eyes. A lonely life indeed, laced with hatred and mistrust, a life that couldn’t have been called anything but a mockery of itself. He had fought for people who wanted nothing but to see him dead, for people who would have never wanted him back in their lives had he survived. A life full of regrets, full of choices that could never be undone, a life that Dumbledore knew all too well.

He took the vial Dumbledore had placed on the desk for him in his hands. He carefully fished the silver strands out of the vial, closing his eyes for a second as he pointed the black tip of his wand to his temple. The memories returned to him like a flooding river, replacing the shadowy outlines they’d left behind with painful clarity.

‘Indeed,’ he sighed, suddenly tired, ‘do not concern yourself with the theatrics of Slytherin, Headmaster. I have everything under control’ Severus said, his eyes darkening.

‘If you are certain, Severus. Is there anything else I can do for you?’

Severus hesitated. Anything? He thought of James Potter’s and of his gang continuous harassment and how they had caused Lily to be fearful of him. He thought of the dark circles under Lily’s eyes, her body tense as though she feared Severus might attack her.

It was almost childish, but for a moment he was tempted to ask Dumbledore to keep his golden Gryffindor boy and his gang in check. For the first time since Potter the senior had died, Severus had enough leverage with the man to be granted such request. His younger-self would have laughed. Still, Severus had to bit his tongue as he wondered what Dumbledore would think of Potter’s drivel, for he could hardly expect the boy to be quiet about his suspicions.

Severus saw himself smirking as he recalled the shocked expression on his face when he had knocked him and Black off their feet; or the horrified look adorning the boy’s features when he’d seen Lily dragging him to Madam Puddifoot’s. Alas, he knew Dumbledore would consider him petty for making a mockery out of the boy. He knew Dumbledore would not be pleased with him spending a ridiculous amount of time with a sixteen-year-old girl. And of course, there was also the fact that Severus had Obliviated the boy.

He could only imagine what’d happen if Potter told the Headmaster he suspected Severus of using Dark Magic to manipulate Lily or that Severus wasn’t indifferent when it came to her charm. Potter knew of his feelings. What he didn’t know was that Dumbledore knew a lot more than Severus would have felt comfortable in anyone knowing when it came to his relationship with Lily; including the disturbing fact that, until the previous week, Severus had been a teacher.

Dumbledore knew it all, he had seen his memories and he was still distrustful of him. If he so much as looked into Potter’s mind, he’d see Severus’ jealousy. For all his talk about the power of love, Severus knew that Dumbledore would find the idea of a man his age lusting over one of his students unsettling - never mind he had no wish in ever acting upon his feelings. Never mind that the idea of Lily coming to love him in such a way was nothing short of ridiculous. Severus didn’t want to look like the sort of man who’d prey on a young girl.

He had been called many things in his life and had never cared, but a paedophile had never and would never be one of them. He shuddered. Would Dumbledore even believe that in seventeen years of teaching he had never felt remotely attracted to school girls and uniforms? Severus sneered. Dumbledore would believe Potter, as he had always done. And how could Severus blame him when he himself felt such feelings on unease within himself, his physical age looking like a crafty excuse to justify the obscene nature of his feelings.

Severus pressed his lips in a tight line.

‘No, Headmaster. As I have said, I have everything under control,’ Severus said and for a moment he was foolish enough to believe it.

In the week that followed Severus allowed himself to enjoy the peace that came with being, for the first time of his life, free of his duties. After the brewing of the Draught of Peace, Lily had quickly warmed up to him, all her doubts about his identity now forgotten. Had he not felt guilty about that deception, the memory of her feeble attempt at subtlety would have brought a weary smile to his lips.

He recalled the small vial he had given her, a silent apology for having upset her to the point of being fearful of him. She had told him he was brilliant. After that a few veiled questions about their life in Cokeworth had been all it had taken for her to forget she had just spent the last hour of her life looking for appearance-altering spells, signs of Polyjuice Potions and signs that would confirm he was indeed some kind of imposter.

And Severus had indulged her, he had pretended not to notice, her doubts and fears so clearly plastered on her face that he had internally cringed, wondering what would have happened had he really been someone with ill intent. She was too trusting, too quick to disregard her own instincts, and there was nothing he could do about that, not unless he wished to jeopardise the war, not unless he told her the truth. Not until the Dark Lord was defeated, he told himself.

Severus ran a hand over his greasing hair. If two weeks ago someone had told him his life would have become much more complicated than it already was, he would have probably laughed. He looked at her, finding her figure with practised ease. Why she insisted in spending time with him was beyond his comprehension, he thought, a spark of jealousy and unease flaring inside him when he saw she was happily conversing with Lupin.

He had told her many years before what Lupin was, but she’d never believed him. Lupin the teenager was even more pathetic than his older counterpart. What would Lily say if she knew the werewolf had had no qualms placing the whole school in danger? That Dumbledore’s opinion of him had been more important than the risk of his best friend’s son being murdered? Still, there was a bitter taste in his mouth as he remembered that, last time he’d seen him, he had almost killed the werewolf as well as severely injured one of his students.

Severus averted his eyes. He had never meant to hurt the boy, he thought, feeling slightly sick as he remembered how the Potter lookalike had slumped against Lupin’s back, the left side of his face completely covered in blood, a grotesque hole resting where his ear had been. Wasn’t he arguably more dangerous than Lupin the teenager? The hypocrisy of it all wasn’t lost to him.

He shuddered, now unable to even look at her. A few inches to the left and he would’ve killed the boy too, he thought. Not that he would have been forced to cast that spell had Lupin showed himself capable of protecting his charge, he sneered. And then there was Mundungus Fletcher, who had run away, putting them all in danger. To this day it still amazed him how Potter had managed to escape such a helpless situation.

He averted his gaze, forcing himself to finish his lunch. He could feel Mulciber looking at him like a rabid dog, Rosier’s discontent much harder to detect, but there nonetheless. They could all go fuck themselves for all he cared, he would not go back doing their chores, he had enough on his plate without having to worry about their wounded pride. Speaking of which… his gaze drifted back to the Gryffindor table, where Potter was looking at him through narrowed eyes.

For Merlin’s sake.

It was a sign of his bad mood that he merely sneered; it was only then that he realised Lily was looking at him, the sneer quickly fading away as she smiled. Ah… he thought, slightly embarrassed as he averted his eyes, a dull blush spreading to his cheeks.

‘Evans!’, Lily stopped dead in her tracks, her brows furrowing as she turned to face Potter.

She stared at him for a few moments, already knowing what that was about. She should’ve expected this, after all, she should’ve known better than to believe Potter’s paranoia would disappear now that she had finally managed to put her worries at ease. She should’ve been angry with him, she probably would’ve been had she not felt so utterly ashamed of herself for having ever listened to the boy.

It might have been sudden and unexpected, but in the end, Severus had truly changed. He had become a better person than she could have ever hoped for. And all she had done in return was listen to Potter’s absurd theories and end up believing Severus might be an imposter. What a terrible friend she was.

She wondered what Sev would say if he knew she had pretty much plotted with Potter on his back. Not that they really had had any sort of agreement, but the more time had passed, the more it had started to feel that way. It did not help that Potter, still breathing heavily from having had to catch up with her, was now staring at her with an expression of upmost betrayal. It was a few moments before he spoke, her guilt quickly turning into annoyance.

‘What was that about?’ he said, running a hand through his already messy hair, ‘For Merlin’s sake, Evans, I told you to be careful and you go there and smile at him and treat him as though nothing happened,’ he said, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he turned around, looking as though he feared he might have been followed.

For a moment she stared, then she recalled the uncomfortable look that Sev had given her at lunch break, refusing to meet her gaze. Her lips twisted in a grimace. She looked at the boy in front of her, feeling slightly sick.

‘Did you threaten him?’ she asked suddenly. Potter winced, looking as though she had just thrown something at him. He raised both hands in front of him.

‘What?! No, it’s that filthy bastard, I didn’t do anything to him, he’s the one-’, Lily closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. It took all her self-restrain to stop herself from turning her back to Potter.

‘Evans, if he’s told you I hexed him-’ he began, his voice trembling with anger before Lily interrupted him with a glare.

‘He hasn’t told me anything, but it was you, wasn’t it?’ she asked, looking him straight in the eyes.

She shuddered as she remembered how angry Sev had been that night, of how he had looked slightly insane when he had screamed Potter’s name, trying to get a hold on thin air. She didn’t know if Potter had somehow managed to master a Disillusionment charm, but if he had and he had used it to sneak on Severus, making him constantly paranoid…

Potter gulped, opening his mouth a few times before he finally managed to speak.

‘I- I know it was stupid, but you saw what he did, I was just trying to protect you,’ he said fiercely, looking straight into Lily’s angry eyes. Lily could only stare at him; unable to hide her disgust and disappointment.

‘Well, I don’t need your protection!’ she blurted out, her eyes stinging, for she’d never asked for it. All she wanted was to be left alone.

Sev was right. He could have seriously injured the both of them, she really should’ve turned him to Professor McGonagall, even though deep down she knew that he had not meant to hurt them. Perhaps Sev was right, that was the problem with Gryffindors. They always acted without thinking things through, certain they the moral high ground.

‘It’s him, Potter,’ she said wearily, hoping that would be the end of it.

It was a painful admission. She didn’t want him to know that she thought he might’ve been right, but they couldn’t keep going like they were now. Severus was trying to change for the better, Potter’s continuous nagging would only bring out the worse in him. She shuddered thinking about how his face had contorted with hatred, his features so twisted that Lily had been almost scared. He would go back to those horrible Slytherins and away from her. Her pride wasn’t more important than that, even if it meant admitting she had entertained Potter’s mad theories.

The boy gave her a pitiful look.

‘How… how do you know? Look, Evans, I get that you like to believe the best of people, I like that about you, but-’, he paused, breathing hard, his voice heavy with bitterness and disbelief.

‘He’s not disillusioning himself. He’s not using Polyjuice Potion. His handwriting is the same and he knows things about my life in Cokeworth that only the real Severus would,’ she snapped, finally admitting how far she had gone, that for a second she too had thought he might be an imposter, just like Potter had said.

Potter opened his mouth and closed it as Lily stared at him, hurt and betrayed.

‘People change’ she said, looking him straight in the eyes, because, despite everything, she really believed that and she wanted Potter to believe it too. She was tired of fighting, tired of having to justify her friendship with Severus with her Housemates, tired of having Potter following her around as though she was a damsel that needed to be saved.

‘I hope that, one day, people will be able to say the same thing about you. And if you care one bit about me, please, just leave him alone. You take out the worst out of each other and I can’t stand it. You could be much better than this’

Potter sighed. For a second he looked seemingly at war with himself.

‘Alright’, he finally said, ‘I’ll leave him alone for now, but please, be careful. I’m worried about you Evans. I just want you to be safe and this doesn’t add up’, he finished, looking at her straight in the eyes.

‘He’s changed,’ she insisted, and this time there was no doubt in her voice.

Potter grimaced, his lips stretching into a bitter smile.

‘I hope for your sake that you are right about that.’

Lily did not see Severus for the rest of the day, it was only when she headed to the Great Hall in the afternoon that she finally caught a glimpse of him. He was giving his back to the Slytherin table, paying no notice to the looks a couple of Ravenclaw were throwing at him for having had the gall to sit there without invitation.

He was pale and haggard, his hair a bit greasy, but his general appearance wasn’t nearly as unhealthy as it had been. She stared at him for a few moments as he turned the pages of what looked like the sort of book that could easily give you a migraine if you indulged in its reading for too long. She felt her lips twitch. Typical Severus. He absentmindedly stirred the content of his cup with a wandless flick of his wrist, before he took a sip. He was completely immersed in his reading, his forehead furrowed in a slight frown.

She didn’t know whether she ought to laugh or grimace when he raised his head from the book, glaring at a small Ravenclaw boy who had been about to sit in front of him with his friends. The boy paused for a second, eying him distrustfully, before he whispered something into his friend’s ear. Lily didn’t need to know what it was to guess it had been something unkind.

Severus sneered and Lily’s heart sunk. Why did he have to be like that with other people? She supposed it could have been worse, she’d often heard him mistreating the younger students, telling them to “get the fuck out of his way” whenever he was in a bad mood. She knew he wanted to be respected, daring them to repeat what the older students said about him, but still…

She watched him sigh, her gaze instantly drifting to the Slytherin table as she finally understood the reason for his sour mood.

For a wild moment she asked herself whether he was regretting his decision to turn his back on his friends, then she remembered the contempt in his voice when he had told her exactly what he thought of the likes of them. She took a deep breath and forced herself to relax as she walked towards him. She was only a few feet away when he raised his head from his book, annoyed, his expression freezing mid-snarl.

‘Lily,’ he choked, seemingly embarrassed for having glared at her.

‘You don’t mind if I join you, don’t you, Sev?’ she teased him. He gulped, clutching his book, his eyes briefly wandering to the Staff Table.

‘Of- Of course,’ he said, quickly recovering and making space for her before Lily could think that very much like the boy’s, her presence was also unwelcomed. For someone who spent so much time trying to look unapproachable and intimidating, he could sure be sweet when it came to his friends.

‘So, how are you feeling?’ she asked him, sliding her heavy bag from her shoulder. She thought Sev would not judge her for having forgotten once again to cast a feather-light charm. Of course, she wasn’t weak, but still, of all the girls in her dormitory none of the pure-bloods and half-bloods seemed to forget such things.

‘I have been fairly well,’ he answered, still looking slightly awkward.

‘Are the Slytherins giving you trouble?’ she asked, proud of herself for having managed to keep any trace of worry from her voice.

He frowned at that, a look of confusion crossing his features when Lily gestured to the long table at his back. He turned around, his eyes softening almost imperceptibly when he looked at her once more.

‘Of course, not,’ he replied, ‘there is no need for you to worry’, he added, for despite her best efforts, Lily must have looked worried.

After all, hadn’t he heavily implied that his former friends would jump at his throat if they knew he no longer wished to join Voldemort? Lily didn’t really know how he expected her to be all calm and collected after he’d said something like that, his own carelessness and dismissiveness of the matter the scariest thing of it all.

She looked at his thin face and gulped. He’d told her that for that to happen he’d have to be stupid enough to inform Mulciber of his changed views and yet here he was, sitting with her where all could see. It wasn’t exactly a secret that she was Muggle-born. Indeed, the eleven-year-old Lily had felt special in knowing she was the only witch in the family and hadn’t known any better than to share her story with her classmates when asked.

The Slytherins knew what she was. Lily couldn’t imagine any future Death-Eater wannabe turning down the company of purebloods wizards to spend time with what they regarded to be an inferior species. She grimaced at that, wary to voice her thoughts.

‘Won’t they mind if you sit with me? Won’t they get suspicious?’ she asked instead, her voice breaking, a part of her still worried that he might change his mind, that doing the right thing wasn’t worth being ostracised from his own House, that he’d regard the pureblood Slytherins much worthier of his friendship than she was.

‘It isn’t any of their concern whom I choose to spend my time with and no, they do not believe I-’ he stopped, shaking his head as his lips curled in a sneer.

‘Surely you know what they think of me,’ he said, his expression sour as his gaze met hers.

She looked at him, unsure. There were many things people said about Severus, most of them unkind, but for the love of her, Lily could not imagine why the Slytherins would be fine if they truly believed their Housemate was head over heels with her. She couldn’t imagine a Death Eater wannabe ever justifying that kind of interest for someone like her.

‘I don’t think I fully understand’, she said tentatively, bracing herself for a storm as his expression filled with contempt.

‘They think I desire you, that you could be braindead for all I care’, he said, scathingly, his voice so harsh and sudden that she looked at him, startle. It was only after a few moments that he blinked, looking at her with something akin to horror, his lips parting as though he himself had been left deeply disturbed by his own lack of control.

After a few seconds his expression changed again; he looked utterly humiliated, his eyes filled with shame as he averted his gaze. Lily’s throat tightened.

‘Forgive me, I did not mean to be so vulgar’, he apologised, ‘You need not worry about it, not even the blood supremacists think that Muggle-borns would step so low, your reputation won’t suffer any harm, it merely amuses them to entertain the notion’, he said quietly.

Lily stared at him and swallowed, not really knowing what to say. He looked strangely vulnerable, as though he feared she might suddenly start looking at him as though he were something disgusting. She could not even imagine how horrible it must be for him to know that that was what people thought of him, to know that they thought he was only there in the hope she’d… her cheeks burned.

She looked at her best friend’s face, wondering what it must be like to have people always thinking the worst of you. Did they really think he didn’t have shred of good in him? That he’d follow her around just because they thought him too ugly and warped to have a normal life and a friend who cared for him?

Lily took a deep breath, her stomach churning. How could he stand it?

‘Someone like you? What does that even mean? Do they think- and what about your reputation, Sev? I don’t want them to think that you-’, he looked at her from a curtain of black hair, his expression suddenly harsh, the thin line of his mouth telling her that he had no desire to continue that conversation.

She took a deep breath, opened her mouth and closed it, the rising frustration she felt causing her mouth to twist in a grimace. Why did he have to be so… so… and why did people have to be so horrible? Someone like him? What the fuck did that even mean? She looked at the Slytherin table and then back at him, shivering as she found herself facing a nearly emotionless mask. She swallowed, unnerved. How was he doing that? When had he learnt to shut down his emotions like that?

‘But surely they’re not all like that? There must be someone in Slytherin, apart from you I mean, that is not downright horrible’, she pleaded, her heartbeat slowing down a bit when a hint of confusion seemed to breach that emotionless mask, making him look a tad more human.

‘Perhaps’, he said calmly, inclining his head slightly to the side as he gave her a long stare.

‘I don’t want you to- I want you to have friends, Sev. I mean it. It hurts me to see you here all alone. You need to have more than a friend. Everyone does. You’re brilliant, you just need to allow people a bit closer so that they can all see it’, she said, a bit breathless.

Severus stared at Lily, his lips parting. He’d not expected her to think he needed friends; the notion that he might need to socialise more bordering on absurd. Her perception of him was based on lies. He didn’t know whether to be touched or annoyed by this level of concern; indeed, not even his own mother had ever questioned the number of friends he’d had. Nor worried herself about her son’s needs, for that matter.

It took him a while to detect that there was a hint of guilt in her eyes, her teeth nibbling her bottom lip as she often did when she was trying to hide her nervousness. He glanced at the Slytherin table, wondering if she blamed herself for his self-imposed isolation. He would have distanced himself from those morons regardless, of course. His former friends were children. Lucius himself was far too juvenile for Severus to have any wish of associating with him for the next ten years. As to Lily...

Severus sighed, he cared for her too deeply to let go and she wasn’t nearly as insufferable as any of her peers. He had no wish to talk to his former colleague either, not when they’d all been so ready to believe him a murderer, so his options in terms of company were quite limited. Regardless, he had no desire to “make friends” he neither wanted nor needed.

Unfortunately, Lily, whose eyes were now roaming the Slytherin table, must have mistaken his lack of answer for some form of indecision, because all of a sudden, she gave him an encouraging smile.

‘What about that boy? The blond one, he looks nice, what’s his name?’ she enquired.

Severus grimaced, forcing himself to look at the boy, if not for his sake to ease her own feelings of guilt.

‘Greengrass, I believe,’ he said after a while, his lips twitching in amusement when he realised she had managed to spot one of the few pure-blood families that had not openly supported the Dark Lord in his ascent to power, not that many of them hadn’t thought he’d had the right ideas.

‘Marlene says his father works with magical creatures. He’s a nice boy, always quiet. He’s in sixth year, isn’t he?’

Severus nodded, unable to tell her that as long as she was around, he was perfectly content with enjoying her company and no one else’s. Lily wasn’t only a beautiful woman, she had always had an intuitive understanding of magic; even at this age she could offer some interesting conversations, most of her peers couldn’t and Severus could barely stand seeing them in class as it was.

She’d always had powerful magic, even as a child. Severus’ chest tightened, as it often did whenever he thought of the powerful witch she would have become had she not died because of her best friend’s own foolishness. This time, however, he found himself selfishly praying that he would be lucky enough to get a glimpse of the woman she’d become.

‘And what about Bartemius Crouch?’ she continued, oblivious his thoughts, ‘he’s always studying in the Library. I’d say Regulus Black is not that bad either, even though he is a bit conceited…’ she finished.

Severus’ lips twitched.

‘I do not mingle well with teenagers,’ he said, half-heartedly, the hypocrisy of his statement evoking a familiar feeling of discomfort.

Lily raised her eyebrows, her lips twitching as oblivious to what laid behind such statement, she tried not to laugh.

‘Really? I didn’t realise you’d started hanging out with Filch, Sev. I can’t say he’s much better than Mulciber, but I could see you two getting along,’ she laughed.

Severus would’ve grimaced at the truth of that assertion. The notion of being friends with Filch was, of course, ridiculous, but he could not deny they had often seen eye to eye when it came to punishing rule breaking dunderheads, something he did not know whether Lily would have been disgusted of amused by.

‘Indeed, from now onwards I shall call him Argus. He will be delighted when he learns that my greatest ambition, very much like his, is catching dunderheads in the dead of night and handing off detentions’ he said dryly, sipping his tea as Lily let out a laugh, her lips forming a beautiful smile.

When had it been the last time someone had smiled at something he’d said? Severus startled as he realised, he could not even remember, his remarks often met with looks of hatred.

‘Seriously, Sev, will you try making some friends?’ she asked, her smile faltering a little when he averted his eyes.

He knew she was worried for him, but for the love of him, Severus could not entertain the notion of befriending students half his age. He loathed teenagers, it was bad enough he had to play one. Yet, he could not bear to see that look of worry in her eyes, to know that she was under the delusion that it was her fault if he had lost his “friends”.

‘I- I do not feel inclined to befriend anyone at the present moment, but I might consider it in future,’ he forced himself to say, his chest feeling a bit lighter when she gave him a warm smile.

Severus stood outside of the Charms classroom, the sound of scraping chairs and increasing chatter anticipating the bell as it rang, announcing the end of period. He leaned against the wall, ignoring his classmate and glancing up at one of the many portraits adorning the stone walls. He stared at the country scenery, barren of human presence, the trees moved by the silent wind as a storm brew in the painted sky.

His eyes moved to the painting on its right, where two witches were whispering in each other’s ears, their eyes falling briefly on Severus’ figure and the Slytherin students. He narrowed his eyes, not looking forward to another useless class, the students’ nervousness for the oncoming O.W.L.s far less enjoyable than when he’d been a teacher.

Indeed, Severus had felt a twisted pleasure in seeing the laziest students panic at the realisation that they wouldn’t be able to revise all their school work a mere week before their exams. It had served them right. Teenagers had an asinine perception of time, which was often married with abysmal planning and a tendency to ignore their teachers.

He glanced at Mulciber and Avery. Mulciber sneered, but he did not approach him. Good, he thought.

The door swung open, the Gryffindor and sixth year Slytherin leaving in a blur of black robes. Severus was just about to enter when Rosier blocked his path. Severus looked up, his eyes barren of any emotion as Rosier lowered his voice so that only he could hear, his mask of pleasant politeness slipping for a fraction of a second.

‘You’re pathetic, Snape. I don’t know what you are planning, but be assured Lucius will hear about this,’ he said, his lips quirking with disdain as he passed him.

Severus rolled his eyes as he too entered the classroom. He sat in a corner, opening a book and thinking the end of term couldn’t come soon enough.

Chapter Text

The Gryffindor Common room wasn’t the first place that would have come to mind when one would have thought about the perfect spot to study. All the same, it was a favourite amongst Gryffindors. Perhaps it was the sense of familiarity, but there was something about the warm colours of the tapestry and comfortable cushions that compensated for the occasional loud noises.

She’d often wondered what the other common rooms were like. Severus had told her theirs was underground, with huge windows that mitigated the lack of light and allowed a glimpse of the fascinating creatures living under the lake. She looked outside, the wind sweeping the tall trees marking the beginning of the Forbidden Forest; the tall grass and the lake stretching as far as the eye could see. Would Severus have appreciated the view too or would he have told her that everything was obnoxiously red up there. Her lips quirked in a small smile as she forced herself to look away from the beautiful weather outside and focus on her books.

She sighed. Dozens of notes and stained piece of parchments lay at her and her friends’ feet. With only two weeks left before the O.W.L.s, the mental strain and anxiety was finally starting to get to them all. Indeed, that newly discovered fear of failure was now often winning over the temptation of going outside and playing on the shore, splashing water at each other and talking about ordinary things.

A part of her couldn’t wait for the O.W.L.s to be over so they could finally enjoy the summer; another wished they had more time. She yawned, looking at her friends, overwhelmed by the amount of notes at her feet, but willing to put in another hour of work for their sake.

‘Ah, goddammit! How can they expect us to remember all this?’ Marlene said, glancing at the crackling fire in the Common Room and looking as though she wanted nothing more than throw her notes in the fireplace. There was no real warmth coming out of it, its flames nothing more than a spell, but they still liked to gather by its side and put some cushions on the carpet like they often did during the winter.

Marlene groaned, glaring at Black when he walked in. He laughed at her dejected expression. Lily ignored him, like she ignored Potter when he too walked in. Unfortunately, Sirius’ arrival also meant that Mary, who had previously asked Lily to revise Potions and Charms together, was now inevitably distracted.

‘Could you tell me the properties of sneezewort and its use in potion making?’ Lily asked, gently touching Mary’s shoulder. Mary frowned; she was just about to reply when Black put an arm around Marlene’s shoulder, snatching her up from the seat next to Lily.

Lily stared at him, her reaction causing Black to roll his eyes.

‘I swear, any more time with him and she’ll be turning into Snivellus,’ he said with a hint of disgust.

‘Oi, stop it!’ Marlene said, ‘I could do with a bit more, it’s not even dinner time yet,’ she argued, smiling half-heartedly when he snatched her book.

‘Exactly, you spent all afternoon studying, how much more do you need? It’s beyond me how you can take a Bludger full speed and still worry about this stupid exam. Tell her Prongs. You’re brilliant, you’ll be fine. You just need to relax,’ he said lightly, massaging her shoulders. She gave him a sideway look, shook her head in disbelief and snorted.

‘Are you flirting with me?’ Marlene asked, laughing as she shoved Black aside. They both started to laugh, as they often did when they were together. Potter joined them, giving Lily a hopeful look. She ignored him. They had studied all afternoon, that was true, but Mary wanted to do well in her exams and Lily had eagerly offered to help.

Potions was Mary’s weakest subject, and one she had told Lily she needed to pass if she wanted to do anything with her life.

‘It’s fine Marlene, we’ll catch you later’ she said, if only to get Mary’s new source of distraction out of the way. She stifled a yawn and gave Mary a hopeful look; but Mary was no longer listening, she was staring at the two of them, both fear and betrayal shimmering in her blue eyes.

It wasn’t anything new, of course. She knew Marlene and Sirius had had a fling, only to go back to being friends as though nothing had happened. They often enjoyed spending time together, but as Marlene had often told her, they were not after anything serious; that wasn’t what school was about for either of them. It was precisely the reason why, for someone like Mary, Sirius Black was bad news.

‘Yeah, let’s get you away before you turn into a swotter,’ Black snorted.

Mary stiffened, her lip trembling slightly as she tried to focus on her text. It had not meant to be as an insult, but it was only too clear Mary had been deeply hurt by those words.

‘Oi, who are you calling swotter, you twat? Take it back,’ Marlene said with a grin, jumping to get her book back when Black moved it out of reach. Lily sighed. Yes, they were definitely flirting now, and it would only get worse. Mary was still staring at them, her eyes now watery.

Shit.

‘Mary, if you want, we can go somewhere-’

Mary bit down on her lip and slammed her book shut.

‘Fuck you, Marlene,’ she said before she stormed off towards their dormitory, causing the other redhead to roll her eyes.

Lily gave her a disapproving look. Marlene shrugged.

‘What? What have I done?’ Lily did not bother to give her an answer.

‘Mary, wait- Why do you have to be such an arse?’ Lily said, rounding on Black before she ran after her friend.

Mary was hugging her knees by the bathroom window when Lily found her, steam coming out of the giant bathtub next to her; its size almost that of a small pool. The stained glass depicted a sea serpent, the red of its scales reflecting on Mary’s pale skin as she turned her face away, trying to wipe away the tears.

‘Hey,’ Lily said, sitting next to her and offering a handkerchief with a weak smile.

‘Am I… am I just a swot for him? Why won’t he even look at me? S-sometimes I wish I was like Marlene, my life would certainly be easier,’ she said after a while, raising her head to look at Lily.

‘Even if I don’t like Black, you know he doesn’t mean that, not that there is anything wrong with being a swot. I lost count of how many times I have been called that. And you don’t need to be like Marlene, you are kind-hearted and clever, Mary. I know you worry a lot about the exams, but you’ll do great, you just need to have a bit more faith in yourself,’ Lily reassured her, taking her hand in hers and squeezing it.

Mary sniffed, more tears running down her cheeks as her mouth twitched, her voice suddenly becoming bitter.

‘It’s easy for you to say, Lils. You… you’re brilliant, you don’t even have to study that hard, it just comes naturally to you, but if I fail… well, everyone just expects that of me anyway. They think I’m shallow and stupid and all I can do is cry about it. Perhaps I should have been a Hufflepuff, I certainly don’t belong here. It doesn’t matter how hard I try to fit in. My grades are not even that good. Maybe that’s why Sirius won’t even look at me, I am proof those Slytherins are right and we… we don’t belong here,’ she cried.

Lily squeezed her hand hard and gave her a hug, her heart heavy.

‘You know that’s not true. We are exactly where we should be and you are brave, Mary. You told Mulciber exactly what you thought about their stupid ideology.’

‘And look where that got me. My parents didn’t even take it seriously, my dad just wants me to finish school and get married,’ she spat, her lips trembling as she wiped her cheeks again with her sleeve.

Lily moved a bit back and gently squeezed her shoulder.

‘And you, Mary? What do you want?’ she asked quietly; it suddenly occurred to her than no one had ever asked Mary why she had decided to study so hard all of a sudden. They’d all assumed she had just wanted to take her mind off Sirius, but…

For a second Mary looked startled, as though no one had ever asked, nor cared to hear the answer to that question.

‘I… I want to become a Healer, but… Well dad doesn’t think I’m good or clever enough for that. He thinks Hogwarts is a joke, that we say some magic words and all our problems go away. He doesn’t even see it as studying. Mum never says anything, she never stands up to him and I hate it’ she said bitterly, fidgeting with her hands, the skin on her thumb looking raw.

Petunia might have certainly agreed with Mary’s dad, though her parents wouldn’t have. She suddenly felt a bit stupid and naïve, because she’d never thought Muggleborn’s parents would be anything but supportive of their magical child. Indeed, she’d couldn’t even imagine her parents ever saying something so horrible.

‘The truth is that I’m envious of you and Marlene… and I like Sirius, I really do. He stood up to his family, he’s handsome, he’s popular. He doesn’t give a shit about what those Slytherins say about him. I’ve had a crush on him since our first year, but only sees Marlene. I could be invisible for all he cared. I wish I could be like them,’ she said with a grimace.

‘Don’t say that. You’re fine the way you are; you just need to believe in yourself. Why a Healer?’ she asked, curiously.

Mary hesitated, looking at her, unsure.

‘I- I want to become like Madam Pomfrey. I want to make sure that we… Muggleborns, I mean- that we are taken seriously when something like what Mulciber did to me happens. I don’t want anyone feeling like we don’t belong. I’m sick of it. Do you think that’s stupid?’ she asked, hesitantly.

Lily shook her head, her gaze softening.

‘No, I don’t think that’s stupid at all,’ she said, sitting beside her in silence when Mary cried.

The Dungeons were dark and dimly lit, the sun outside unable to touch the cool stone walls, the torchlight flickering lazily as the occasional draft disrupted its flow. Severus had often kept to his quarters during exams period; the Dungeons providing asylum from the hordes of students flooding the Library and the school grounds. Rain was far from uncommon in the late spring, which meant that any sign of merciful weather constantly saw the students forgetting their duties in favour of frolicking outside.

With Lily revising with her friends, Severus had blissfully locked himself in what, with a little bit of work, would soon become his private lab. It was, by no means, comparable to his previous quarters and Severus suspected it might have been an old potions classroom, the cobwebs and dust suggesting it must have fallen in disuse centuries before.

Severus flickered his wand at the row of desks, repairing the woodlice-eaten wood and clearing away the dust. There was a small room behind what must have been a teacher’s desk, the deadbolt so rusty that Severus would have struggled to open it without magic. He coughed as he stepped inside. It was more than he could have asked for.

He cast a silencing charm to the warded door and walls, unwilling to hear even the faintest sound of voices. Dumbledore had assigned him some potions to brew and had run some ideas for a potential brew that would grant the drinker some protection from Legilimency. Unfortunately, the cost of the ingredients alone was enough to make him reluctant to proceed with either project.

Dumbledore might have paid Severus a little extra for the potions he brewed for the Order, but Severus, as any respectful Potions Master for that matter, had provided and purchased the ingredients. Indeed, it was unsurprising how Dumbledore had initially reacted to Severus’ admission of having been the Order’s Potions Master. Utterly humiliating, that was what it was. Indeed, he’d felt the need to remind the Headmaster that despite looking too young and poor to even afford a jar of billywigs and boomslang skin, he had been and still was a competent Potions Master.

An ugly blush spread through his sallow skin as he repaired the broken leg of an old desk. He started laying some books up the shelves, trying with all his might to ignore the school robes covering his limbs, everything from the tip of his toes to the tip of his overlong hair making him feel like a pantomime of himself.

Still, he could not help but feel a sense of peace when he laid the furniture in a way that was reminiscent of his old office. Severus would have gladly made of that tiny room his domain had Dumbledore not warned him that while he understood the importance of keeping Severus mentally stimulated, he feared he might be tempted to isolate himself from his peers and disregard his schoolwork, no matter how trivial he considered it to be.

Indeed, with little more than a week from the O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s, finding some peace and quiet had become increasingly difficult. The notion that Severus needed to study for his O.W.L.s, was of course, ridiculous. For all his faults, Severus had always found school easy; a fact he was secretly thankful for as, despite his fallout with Lily, he had still managed to scrap an O in most subjects.

His familiarity with the school curriculum had meant that the gaps in his knowledge were few. It had taken him a mere week to catch up on his schoolwork. An easier task than having to correct a hundred of poorly written essays, his students’ abysmal knowledge and incompetence never failing to irritate him. And as for Dumbledore’s other ideas… Needless to say that Severus had become red in the face and spluttered that Dumbledore himself could go socialise with teenagers and see how much he liked it.

Dumbledore had not been overly pleased by his reply, insisting that despite the fact that he understood there was a noticeable age gap, Severus ought to socialise with his peers. Indeed, he hoped that given Severus’ experience as a teacher and spy, he could use his knowledge to be a mentor and a friend to some misguided youth without arising suspicion. Spying on children, Severus had thought scathingly. That was how low he had fallen.

He sighed, sitting down and laying some spare parchment on the desk. He made a list of the ingredients he would harvest in the Forbitten Forest the following day and started drawing diagrams and formulas.

It was almost dark outside when Severus returned to the Dormitory. Despite the late hour, the majority of the fifth and seventh year were still revising, undoubtedly pushed away by an increasingly exhausted Madam Pince a few minutes before curfew.

His mouth twitched disapprovingly when he noticed that some students had resorted to studying on the floor, century old books carelessly sprawled on the dusty stone. He bit his tongue before he could walk over and say something scathing. He was not a professor. Nor would he become one if he could help it; and yet he missed the authority and respect the title had granted him. A pointed look had been enough to ensure complete silence.

He ignored the students and walked down the stairs leading to his Dormitory. His eyes briefly met Avery’s as he crouched next to his trunk, unlocking it with his wand and laying his books at the bottom and next to some empty potion vials. The boy was sitting on the bed with one book in his hand and one in his lap, eying Severus nervously.

‘Snape,’ he greeted with a grimace, bringing his book a little closer and looking around as though he feared Mulciber might suddenly appear and scold him for even talking to Severus, or reading for that matter.

‘Avery,’ Severus replied, closing his trunk. He grabbed his nightshirt and a dusty tome on the British Isles flora that had been his mother. He sat on his bed and began to read, glancing at Avery, whose mutterings and anxious flickering of pages was becoming increasingly more difficult to ignore.

A silencing spell or simple Muffliato would have done the trick, and yet, with Mulciber blissfully absent, Severus decided against it for the time being. The mousy boy kept biting his lip, cursing under his breath, until Severus felt Wilkes shift on the bed besides him.

‘Will you be quiet, Avery?’ Severus said, looking up from his book with a glare.

The boy stared at him, looked around and gulped. The Pettigrew of Slytherin, or so people called him when Mulciber was not around; cowardly and always too fearful to stand up to others. Avery averted his eyes, but not before Severus could catch a glimpse of his mind. He found himself suppressing an amused smile. The boy found him unnerving- Severus childishly wondered whether the boy would scream were he to draw his wand.

‘Sorry, but dad is going to kill me if I fail Transfiguration. It used to be his favourite subject,’ he said with a hint of discomfort.

Severus rolled his eyes. Avery gulped and it was a while before he decided to speak.

‘And what about you Snape? I can’t remember the last time I saw you revising. Aren’t you worried?’ the boy asked, his voice carrying a note of wariness as he gave him a side way glance, as though he half regretted asking that question.

‘No.’

‘Right,’ Avery said, grimacing before he looked around once more.

‘Would you- would consider helping me with Potions and Arithmancy? Just for tonight I mean.’

‘I’ll pay you,’ he added quickly.

Severus’ eyes and the silence that followed made him immediately uncomfortable.

Avery had always been a weakling; pale and thin. He had tortured out of fear, often throwing up when they had first joined the Death Eater. Indeed, the Dark Lord had been quick to realise that, despite his lineage, the boy did not share the talent and sadistic streak of the father, whom had been one of the first to join the Dark Lord in his quest for power. The Dark Lord had never concealed his disgust for how much of a failure the boy had turned out to be. Severus shuddered to think that, very much like Draco, the boy had had little choice when it’d come to joining the Death Eaters.

His eyes narrowed.

‘How much?’ he found himself asking, unsure whether out of boredom or because Avery had visibly paled at the mention of his father.

Severus had been Head of Slytherin and part of the Inner Circle long enough to be aware of how many of these children were disciplined by their parents. Indeed, Draco had been lucky; to his knowledge, Lucius had never tortured his own son. Avery had not been so fortunate; Severus remembered quite clearly the man’s anger when Severus had outperformed the boy during their initiation. He had not cared at the time, taking great pride in the Dark Lord’s derisive smile, a spark on interest lighting those terrible eyes as he’d looked away from Avery.

Alas, it would be a lie to say he also did not need the money.

‘Four Galleons?’ Avery said tentatively, ‘I’ve heard that’s what the seventh years take for tutoring sessions. Just don’t tell the others, I’m not supposed to be talking to you,’ he added.

Severus raised his eyebrows and tilted his head mockingly.

‘That could be arranged. And tell me, why is that they forbade you from approaching me?’ he asked, his lips twitching in a slightly mocking smile. And Severus could see the boy was unnerved.

‘I-,’ Avery gulped, ‘Mulciber thinks you have gone insane, or that you are some sort of imposter’ he offered weakly, struggling to meet his eyes.

‘I see and what do you think, Avery?’ Severus asked silkily.

‘N-nothing! I don’t care!’ he stuttered, ‘No offense Snape, but Rosier’s right, you fancy yourself more important to the cause that you are. You’re better off if you don’t join anyway. I don’t even know why I study. Slughorn asked me what I wanted to do and I couldn’t think of anything to say. He looked at me and I- I think he knows and what’s the point? Mulciber’s right. None of this matters,’ the boy said, his voice slightly hysterical.

‘Perhaps not, but failing your O.W.L.s will hardly help your future prospects. I will give you two hours of my time. Choose your question wisely.’

June had finally arrived. With only one week left before the O.W.L.s, the teachers had stopped giving them homework and had them revising the topics that were most likely to come up during the exams. Lily had been particularly grateful to Professor Flitwick, who had been kind enough to share some of the questions that had been part of the previous year’s exam, simulating both the theoretical and practical part of the exam in an effort to better prepare his students.

He had warned them against cheating, seizing the opportunity to talk about cheating detection charms. Mulciber had sneered at Lily when Slughorn had drawled off about his old connections with each and every one of the examiners, remarking that, knowing the examiners personally, he knew everyone would be treated fairly. She had held his gaze defiantly. For people like her and Mary, these exams were just another chance to show that they did belong, that they could and would succeed in this world, that their blood did not make them any less of a witch or wizard.

Lily’s time was divided between studying and her prefect duties. Professor McGonagall had asked them to keep an eye on the illicit traffic of questionable potions and talismans, which had tripled in the last month. It was utter chaos, with students often ending up in the Hospital Wing and not enough Prefects or Teachers to fully put a stop to it.

‘That’s enough, if I catch you one more time trying to sell memory enhancing dragon scales, I’ll bring the matter up to Professor Flitwick. You should be ashamed of yourselves!’ Lily said, red in the face as two Ravenclaws sixth years snickered and rushed away before she could deduct points.

She grimaced, trying to shake away the tiredness. She wasn’t sleeping well, often dreaming about sleeping through the exams or being asked to perform a spell only to find out she was unable to perform any magic. She’d had to use Sev’s Draught of Peace a couple of times, but had parted with the precious vial and given it to Mary when she’d found her once again crying and barely eating because of the stress she was putting herself through.

She hadn’t seen much of Severus in the past few days; she’d thought he’d be angry about her studying with Mary and Marlene, but he had surprised her once more and told her there would be all summer to catch up. She ran a hand through her hair, her heavy bag swaying slightly as she stepped out in the sun. It was windy outside. She felt so bad for not having studied with Severus that, despite having spent all Saturday morning in the Library, she had written him a note, trying to squeeze in an hour or two with him before leaving for patrol duties.

She found him next to a great oak tree by the lake. She smiled when she saw him, panting slightly.

‘Sorry I’m late,’ she breathed. Severus huffed and waited for her to settled down, sitting somehow stiffly and awkwardly next to her.

‘I’m really sorry, I can’t stay long, but I wanted to see how you were doing. Honestly, with all the revising and prefect duties on top of it, I’m struggling to keep up with everything. I can’t believe Alice said the N.E.W.T.s are even worse and she’s Head Girl as well… I know I said we’d study together at least twice a week, but-’ she blushed slightly; why did she always ended up blathering the truth?

Severus shook his head, his lips twitching in a small smile.

‘It is quite alright, Lily. I am perfectly capable of studying on my own. I understand the O.W.L.s can be… challenging’ he said, somewhat awkwardly, ‘I have no doubt you will do well’ he added, his attempts to offer comfort so stiff and awkward that Lily couldn’t help but feel a rush of affection towards him. It was kind of sweet and it was a mark that he did care for her that he’d still try.

‘Have you been well?’ she asked and he nodded. Granted, he didn’t look anxious, but Lily remembered him telling her these exams were his way out, that he needed full marks if he wanted to have any future outside Hogwarts. He would become a Potions Master and never set foot into Cokeworth again if he could help it.

“But what about me, Sev? Are you not going to visit if I decide to stay there?” she had asked him innocently when they had been young.

Severus had blushed, quickly replying that she was far too clever to stay there.

‘Aren’t you worried?’ she added, cocking her head to one side when he cleared his throat.

‘No, though I do not mind if you wish we do some revising,’ he said, grimacing ever so slightly as an ugly blush spread to his cheeks. Lily had the strange impression that he looked almost embarrassed; though she could not fathom why.

‘Sounds good. We’ve been through Charms, Potions and Herbology, so I was thinking we could revise Runes and Transfiguration, if that’s alright with you,’ she said cheerfully, wondering if Severus might be embarrassed at the prospect of answering her questions. She shook her head. Why would he be? He was always so studious and clever; she would be amazed if he didn’t get at least an O in six subjects.

Lily opened up Magical Hieroglyphs and Logograms and Spellman’s Syllabary by Rosana Amorin as well as an old potions book, entirely written in runes she had bought from Tom and Scrolls in her fourth year, hoping that by the end of her sixth she would be able to fully read it. She’d always been curious, especially after Severus had told her that many of the old texts had purposely not been translated to gatekeep old knowledge. And indeed, with some of the more advanced runes having more than ten different meanings, treacherously dependent on the following and preceding rune, it was one of the most difficult subjects taught at Hogwarts. Her dad had often compared it to Ancient Greek; she’d told Lily he’d had to study some terminology for med school.

She handed the book to Severus, ironically it was a treatise on the misuse of potions in Ancient Rome and Greece. He half smiled, running his hand on the cover. He read the index, his eyes skimming it, before he opened up the book at the seventieth page. His dark eyes skimmed the page.

‘I had almost forgotten you had this,’ he said, ‘you were strangely fascinated by the tale of the witch that accidentally spilled an Anamixeos Potion on a lion and a serpent, creating the first chimera,’ he finished, his lips twitching in the shadow of a smile.

‘Yes, and let’s not forget about the hydra. You said you wanted to create one, never mind that it would get you expelled,’ she said reprovingly, her lips twitching in a small smile.

‘Only if I were found. I would have been careful, releasing it into the Black Lake, or more likely using it for a potion ingredient, before Potter could get himself killed in a quest to slay the monster,’ he said. Lily snorted. She leaned forward, turning the pages until she reached the penultimate chapter.

‘Here. I got up to eihwaz, but there are quite a few I think I might have mistranslated. The gorgon visage is- has… both human and serpentine features. Over the centuries the story is not clear and- darkness and magic might be the result of this- The great serpent and Gorgon both fear water and the defence offered-’ she frowned, slightly embarrassed. It was a poor translation, one that made even less sense now that she’d said it out loud.

Severus looked at her when she offered him the book.

‘Please,’ she said, when he hesitated.

He sighed, stiffening as she moved closer, before his dark eyes started moving quickly on the page. For a second he looked completely immersed in the reading, as though the symbols had turned into words for him, their meaning and connection no longer obscure. She stared at him, feeling her face grow rather warm. Perhaps she’d gotten too close. She could feel his body heat, their knees almost touching. She cleared her throat, unsure as to why she suddenly felt warm and slightly flustered. There was an intensity about him that she liked, it was almost like watching him brew, his movements and gestures both efficient and elegant.

He cleared his throat and started to read.

‘The gorgon visage is a nightmarish combination of both human and serpentine features. Though tales of its existence and origin have been recounted many times over the centuries, it is to this day unclear whether its creation was the result of Dark Magic or not. A known defence against such Dark Creatures involves the use of reflective surfaces. The gorgon avoids her reflection at all costs, similarly to the basilisk, the use of this clever trick not only nullifies her power, but can effectively cause her to become the victim- The rune, syths and cefath, translates with snake head. As for aqzfr, its meaning is that of reflection, though it is often mistranslated as water, particularly in-’

Lily blinked. Had he just translated an entire page without even glancing at the dictionary? She looked at the page, wondering whether there could have been a footnote she might have missed, but apart from a complicated diagram filling the entirety of the next page, there was nothing that suggested Severus had been reading a translation. She could only stare, wondering, half-heartedly if he could have just made that up.

‘How?’ she muttered. Either Lily had missed the advanced runes classes, or Severus had seemingly memorised both sixth and seventh-year curriculum.

He looked up and she could see he was mildly annoyed for having been interrupted.

‘What?’

‘How do you know all this?’

‘I first encountered these runes in some potions textbook,’ he said, ‘it was a similar topic, though it speculated the gorgon had originated from an Animagus potion gone wrong’, he added. Lily stared.

‘Oh… interesting. Morbidly so, I guess, but interesting. That could happen?’ she asked tentatively and as she looked at him, she was both impressed and intimidated. The worst thing was that he had not even struggled with the translation, Lily’s suddenly felt like a child who had just figured out how to read. She blushed even more. He was brilliant, he really was.

‘It is rare, but there have been instances where the potion has had an… unfortunate and regrettably permanent effect on the drinker. Impatience and the long and complicated process are often the root cause of these disastrous incidents, leaving the victim in a gruesome state, stuck forever in a state of half-human, half-animal mutation. There is no known cure, those who end up in this pitiful condition often live the rest of their lives as outcasts. If they do not kill themselves first or are shamefully sent to St. Mungo’s by their own families,’ Severus said darkly, ‘it is likely that the myth could have originated from one of these incidents and a petrification spell used to prevent the onlookers from giving away the witch’s hideout,’ he finished.

Lily gulped. Severus had always been fascinated by these gruesome stories, often reading about the disastrous effects magic could have on the body and mind when used improperly. She felt a heavy weight in her stomach as she thought about what he’d just said. Professor McGonagall had merely warned them about the disastrous consequences and the skills required, but had not told them these horrible tales. She gulped. Morbid as it was, she wanted to know more.

‘Why would anyone even attempt it, if it is so risky? Is the potion so challenging? Do you reckon you could brew it properly?’ she asked, torn between horror and curiosity.

‘Undoubtedly. It is not the difficulty of the potions that poses the risk. Apart from the difficulty posed by sourcing the ingredients, very specific conditions need to be met. Weeks or even years could be spent waiting, if within this time frame the vial is disturbed and touched by a single ray of sunlight… Well, that is usually the contamination that gives the worst mutations. As to why anyone would want to attempt the transformation despite the risks, I have found that sheer arrogance and stupidity is often a factor,’ he said with a faint sneer.

‘Has a student ever succeeded?’ she asked again, his small lesson on the subject much more interesting that Professor McGonagall’s had been.

He raised an eyebrow at her, the intensity of his gaze making her blush. Still, there was a note of wariness in his eyes.

‘And just why is that you wish to know?’ he asked and Lily had the absurd realisation, that he sounded very much like a teacher.

‘I don’t want to try it out. If I were to try it – don’t give me that look, I said if- it wouldn’t be before graduation. I may be a Gryffindor, but not all of us are reckless, you know,’ she joked, rolling her eyes, ‘what about you? With the grades you have been getting in Transfiguration lately, I wouldn’t be surprised if you succeeded once we are out of school. I know it’s risky, but with the kind of news we’ve been hearing lately… Well, it could be handy. What kind of Animagus do you think you would be?’ she asked, suddenly intrigued by the prospect of seeing the world through the eye of an animal, of being… free.

Severus made a funny face; he looked at her, half exasperated.

‘I have no interest in either becoming or envisioning myself as a furry creature,’ he said with a slight grimace, ‘particularly when there is no way of predicting the kind of animal I would become. Indeed, I have no desire to become something potentially small and having the transformation turn against me. Of course, if I were to try it, I have no doubts I would succeed’ he said arrogantly.

‘If you think you can, this means that students can and have succeeded before,’ she nudged him. Severus positively bristled, his mouth twitching unpleasantly.

‘Yes. Now, while this might very well be one of the questions to come up, I believe there is a whole chapter you wished to translate,’ he reminded her stiffly, his tone so teacher like that she couldn’t help but snort.

‘Yes, Professor,’ she teased him; she was instantly rewarded when he positively flinched. The glower he gave her was enough to make her laugh. He looked both angry and embarrassed, his confidence and arrogance slowly melting away until he looked very much like the boy she’d always known. The boy that had taught her everything about magic and that six years later was still sharing the magical world with her. She smiled. She had missed this boy so much it hurt. He bristled.

‘I would ask you to refrain from calling me that!’ he finally snapped, burying his head in his book when Lily once again laughed.

On the night preceding the O.W.L.s, the double doors of the Great Hall parted to make way for the examiners, their appearance followed by tense and excited whispers. Severus did not struggle to recognise them; years of teaching had made him familiar with their arrival, their appearance as certain as the passing of seasons. And surely enough, they appeared unchanged, their faces so marred by time that, had he not been on the wrong end of the Great Hall, Severus would have questioned his presence in the past.

Professor Marchbanks’ strict mouth quirked in a slight smile as her eyes, still bright in spite of her age, rested on Dumbledore. She might have been known for her stern and unshakable moral integrity, but very much Minerva McGonagall, she looked at Dumbledore almost affectionately, like one would look at an old student. Professor Tofty followed at her heels, kind as she was strict. He remembered with a faint sneer as she would often give Tofty a harsh look whenever she caught him exchanging more than a few words with him. She had never liked Severus and had made no show of hiding it; she was old and well connected enough to know what he was. Dumbledore’s trust often commanded respect, but it meant very little to a woman old enough to remember the man as a student.

There was no such a thing as a former Death Eater for these people and very much like Alastor Moody, she had no qualms on making her opinion known away from students. It had cost her some effort to acknowledge that his students’ results meant that, if not a horrid person, he was at least a competent teacher.

Severus’ lips quirked into a sneer, his eyes finding Lily. She was looking at the examiners, slightly pale. He nearly smiled when he saw the book at her side, her friend rolling her eyes when, as soon as the novelty provided by the visitors waned, she went back to her reading. She felt miles away, especially when Severus could barely remember his O.W.L.s the first time around, the memory of any anxiety or anticipation he must have felt drowned by her loss and the fact she would never speak to him again.

‘What are you reading that book for? I told you it doesn’t matter; do you think the Dark Lord will care about a stupid grade? Or do you just want to turn into Snape?’ Mulciber sneered, snatching a book from Avery’s arms.

‘Of course not, but-’ Avery hesitated, biting his lip as he looked at his textbook and gulped. Mulciber leered at him.

‘What, do you think you are better than me?’ he pressed on. Rosier ran a hand over his face.

‘No, of course not, but-’ he stuttered, becoming increasingly pale by the minute. Mulciber’s face twisted with malicious glee, resembling that of a shark who’d just smelled blood underwater.

Severus’ eyes locked into Mulciber’s. The boy’s smile faltered; for a second, he hesitated. Staring at Severus made him uncomfortable, deep down he knew he acted all wrong, that there must be a good reason why he didn’t fear Mulciber any longer. Still, it wasn’t long before the discomfort was replaced by fury, anger at himself for fearing a worthless half blood. Those eyes, he really hated those empty eyes. Silently judging, looking as though Mulciber was now beneath him.

‘What the fuck are you looking at? I swear, if you look at me like that one more time, I-’

‘Will you be quiet Brutus? And give him the book back, for fuck’s sake, you are embarrassing us all’ Rosier snapped at last, his face flustered. A few of the older students snickered. Mulciber’s palms closed into fists.

‘I swear I will make you pay’ he growled, under his breath. Severus said nothing, ignoring Avery when the boy gave him a small smile.

Lily sipped her tea, the extra spoon of sugar trying to make up for how little she had managed to eat for breakfast. She stared at her friends. Mary looked so anxious that she alternated between eating her slices of toast and skimming through the pages of her Defence book. Even Dorcas looked uncharacteristically tense, her dark eyes occasionally wandering to the Staff table as she glanced at her watch. Indeed, only Potter and Black looked relaxed, their arrogant posture making them look almost bored.

Lily half smiled at Alice when their eyes met, silently grateful when the older girl kissed Frank Longbottom on the cheek and sat next to her and Marlene, offering them some reassurance and words of encouragement.

At nine o’clock, Professor McGonagall got to her feet and ushered them out of the Great Hall. Fifth and seventh years were left waiting by the Entrance Hall, while the rest of the students went off to class, wishing them good luck. Lily sat by the stairs, her Charm textbook and notes in her lap. She did her best to ignore Potter, tempted to confiscate the golden snitch in his hand when he started playing with it with a grin. Honestly, would it hurt him to take anything seriously? She gave Remus a pointed look, causing the boy to flush before he closed down his book and whispered a few words to his friends.

Black rolled his eyes, but sat down next to Remus, begrudgingly holding his book when her fellow prefect forced them into revising.

When Professor McGonagall called them back in, Lily’s heart was thumping hard. The four tables were gone, replaced by many desks fit for one, a piece of parchment laying on top of it. Professor McGonagall waited for them to sit down before reminding them of the rules, her mouth pressing in a stern line as she said she would personally deal with any transgressors. Lily looked around, until she finally found Severus, she frowned, for hadn’t she known any better, she would have thought he looked almost… bored. Still, she gave him an encouraging smile all the same when he turned her way.

‘You may begin,’ Professor McGonagall said, sitting next to Professor Flitwick, Tofty and Marchbanks. She turned over an enormous hour-glass on the desk beside her, on which lay spare rolls of parchment, ink bottles and spare quills.

Lily turned over her paper, her eyes scanning through the questions before she sighed in relief, her heart beating with anticipation as she began to write. She shook the soreness out of her hand after the first hour, having already written a foot more than was required on Mending and Cheering Charms. She finished her paper quickly and spent the remaining time making some small adjustments and improvements.

‘Quills down, please!’ squeaked Professor Flitwick as he swished his wand around, a few students giggling when a couple of them splattered their ink on the desk, utterly bewildered as they watched their papers fly away and land on the teachers’ desk.

‘Really, that’s enough Mr. Knighton, you’ll have the practical to catch up,’ Professor Flitwick exclaimed when one of his Ravenclaws lunged at one of the last flying papers, knocking his chair off and falling onto the floor.

The Professor cleared his throat, struggling to hide his embarrassment as a few students laughed.

‘Very well, very well, you’re free to go!’ he muttered, going back to his colleagues and climbing on the chair next to Professor Tofty.

After the lunch break, they gathered in the small chamber next to the Great Hall, where they were to wait until called for their practical exam. Professor Flitwick would occasionally peak through the door and call them two at a time in alphabetical older. For once, Lily was secretly glad to be among the firsts. Despite the fact that the theoretical exam had proven itself to be easier than she’d expected, the anticipation and lack of sleep had left her tired.

‘…Diggle, Evans!’ her heart gave a jolt, whatever tiredness she had felt melting away as a rush of adrenaline coursed through her veins.

‘Good luck,’ whispered Marlene as she made her way forward, clutching her wand tightly.

She walked towards Professor Tofty; the old wizard gave her an encouraging smile as Professor Flitwick jovially introduced her as: ‘Lily Evans, one of my very best students!’

Lily blushed, clearing her throat before, to Professor Tofty’s delight, she flawlessly performed and reversed the Growth charm. It was a tricky combination, but when asked to demonstrate a colour and silencing spell on one the gerbils Professor Flitwick had provided for the exam, Lily managed to combine the wand movements and perform them both with one swish of her wand.

‘Wonderful, very well indeed! Now, Professor Flitwick has mentioned that two of his current students are quite well versed in spell crafting, I have a feeling you might be one of them, my dear,’ the professor said with a hearty laugh, his blue eyes, magnified by the thick glasses, twinkling with excitement.

Lily smiled, slightly embarrassment, but with a smooth wand movement, a dozen of bright lights appeared, hovering in mind-air like tiny stars. They followed Lily’s hand, swirling around, until they died away. The professor squeaked, delighted. She showed him a more advanced wandless charm she had been practicing since she’d been a child, the Professor’s lips parting when she conjured a flower, she focused on the strings of magic connecting her to it, making it hover in the air until it landed in the professor’s hands, glowing with light.

‘Oh- Merlin’s beard! Wandless magic is certainly not unheard of, but at such a young age… Evans… I wonder… could you be related to my dear friend Caius Evans by any chance?’ he asked excitedly, entwining his hands behind his back.

Lily’s smile died away, her cheeks feeling suddenly warm as she felt a pang of uneasiness stirring in her stomach. She looked at the kind old man, very much like Professor Slughorn, she was sure he had not meant anything bad by it, but she couldn’t help but feel a pang of irritation all the same. Was it truly that surprising that a Muggleborn could outperform someone coming from a magical background? Why did it have to matter?

‘No sir, both my parents are muggles,’ she said quietly and yet, she stood a little straighter as she said it, determined to show no shame in her heritage. She loved her parents and sister, them having no magic didn’t make her love them any less. The Professor’s eyes widened.

‘Incredible, such an instinctive understanding of magic… The way magic comes back to us is surely a wonderful thing. You may go, dear,’ he said, smiling as he looked down at the flower in his hands.

If Severus had been critical of the examiners’ cherry-picked questions for Theory of Potions the first time around, he now found the paper absurdly easy. He sneered, the bar the Ministry set for the Potions exam was incredibly low; it had always astounded him how it was often regarded as one of the most difficult. But then again, after a lifetime of teaching and interacting with his colleagues, Severus had soon learned how very much like Herbology, Potions was often looked down upon by the wizarding population; its lack of silly incantations and wand movements catering to a selective few.

Britain had a serious lack of Potions Masters, something that should not be surprising given the fact that half the population of the British Isles could barely brew a Pepper-up Potion; a fact he had taken up upon himself to rectify when he had begrudgingly become a teacher. Severus had not wanted any student of his to be the cause of such embarrassment, especially after his young age had caused the other members of Staff to question whether he would be able to guide his classes through their O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s.

If there was one thing he could not stand, that was utter incompetence. And Severus had taken great pride in raising those shameful standards; in having the likes of Neville Longbottom managing to scrape an Acceptable. Most students disliked him, but those with half a brain and who later had decided to pursue a career in the subject had often written him letters to ask for advice. There was irony in the fact that they often realised Severus was one of the very best in the fields the moment they were faced with the sad reality of Potions Masters.

Severus finished his paper in little more than half an hour, earning himself a stern glare from Professor Marchbanks, her stooped figure moving through the desks like a hungry vulture. He raised an eyebrow at her, crossing his arms as he waited for the exam to come to an end.

They were then asked to brew a Common Antidote. Severus sighed, making a deliberate effort to slow down his movements when Professor Marchbanks stared at him with watchful eyes. All the same, she blinked when, close to the end of the exam, she walked past his desk, scooping up his potion. She looked at her pocket watch, raising an eyebrow before she walked back to her desk, shaking her head and muttering something under her breath.

The was irony in the fact that despite his lack of criminal record and youthful appearance, the woman still seemed to dislike him.

She was accompanied by a Ministry assistant this time, whose role, as far as Severus understood, was merely that to supervise any potentially dangerous exam and aid the older examiners in case their reflexes where to fail. He frowned, staring at the tall, robust man roaming the desks. Whether he had been there the first time around, Severus could not tell, but he looked strangely familiar, his stern mouth framed by shaggy brown hair sprinkled with grey.

The man stared at him with inscrutable eyes and Severus returned his gaze; his mouth pulling downwards when he noticed the man’s eyes linger on his worn robes, judging his worth based on his blood and connections. The man's mouth pressed into a thin line.

Their eyes met again and Severus was nearly startled to feel the subtle prod of Legilimency. He looked away with a sneer, fearing that his expertise in the mind arts would give away his real age. It was, strictly speaking, prohibited to perform it on a student, though, Severus would have been a liar had he said he’d not done it from time to time. He suspected that Dumbledore too had occasionally done it with the excuse that the end justified the means. Still, knowledge acquired in such a way could not be used as proof. It did not matter that Severus had known Potter was lying to him, the Headmaster had blissfully turned a deaf ear whenever presented with Severus’ suspicions.

All the same, using the Mind Arts to prevent cheating in an exam was nearly an insult to the art itself. After all, none of the adults in the room had been charged with the impossible task of protecting Potter’s son, a boy every bit as obnoxious and reckless as his father had been. Severus could have sworn Potter’s arrival at Hogwarts had coincided with his first signs of grey hair.

He sneered, staring resentfully at Professor Marchbanks; it would be a humorous thing indeed if she wasn’t aware of her personal assistant’s questionable methods.

‘Very well, you may go,’ she told them all, whispering something in Professor McGonagall’s ear.

The rest of the exams passed with a blur, until Theory of Defence Against the Dark Arts came. He answered the questions easily, but five minutes before the end of the exams Severus felt the palm of his hands growing sweaty, his eyes darting to Potter and Black. Professor Flitwick summoned the papers, falling on his back when they flew towards him, causing him to lose his balance.

He noted with strange detachment that his hand was shaking. He closed it into a fist, his grimace quickly turning into a sneer. Good Merlin, was he truly that pathetic? How ironic how this body would remember something that had never happened to it. As though Severus would allow Potter and Black to show his prick to the whole school once again. He would rather die than experience that again; he was not sure his pride could take it, not now. Not this time.

He got to his feet, his hand clutching the wand in his pocket. He briefly considered retreating inside the castle before dismissing the notion; he wasn’t a coward. Merlin help him, he was more than twice Potter and Black’s age, he thought, sneering. He stormed towards the castle grounds, telling himself that whilst it might not happen again, he would sure give them a lesson they would remember for the rest of their lives if they so much thought about casting a spell in his direction.

He squinted as the bright sun hit his eyes; his right hand’s knuckles were white. He scanned the ground, where was he? Potter had to be close by, making a fool of himself with that stolen snitch and-

‘Sev!’ Severus’ heart skipped a bit, nearly cursing Lily as he whirled around. She ran to meet him, leaving her friends behind, the sunlight gliding in her red hair. He blushed when her eyes rested on his wand, clearing his throat before he cast a cooling charm.

‘Are you alright? You look a bit peaky,’ she said, eyeing him worriedly, ‘you don’t have a fever, do you?’ she touched his forehead and Severus flinched at the unexpected touch. He shook his head, as his eyes still searched for Potter.

‘Come on, it’s cooler by the lake,’ she said, taking him by the hand and dragging him to the shore. She asked him about the exams and as his worst memory passed by, Severus couldn’t help but feel as though he was experiencing a strange dream. And for the first time, as he listened to her jokes and watched at her smile, he found he wasn’t sure he wanted to wake up.