Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I'm not making any money off this story
A/N: Callidus Prince will be explained in the next chapter. Since the characters are mostly eleven, there'll be no shipping. There are a few lines here and there that I lifted from canon.
Harry won't be the main character in this (Severus is). And you'll see in later chapters why Harry is a not-very-Slytherin sort of Slytherin.
This will be VERY AU, and as such, characters will undergo drastic shifts. Not everyone loves this sort of thing (which I understand), so if you're not into that kind of thing, you've been given warning. Personally, I enjoy it (like nice Draco/Snape or Dark Harry, Genius Harry, Girl Harry etc)
Warnings: Domestic physical, verbal abuse
Prologue
Spring 1991
Sitting in Potions class at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the sixth year student appeared to be a model of propriety. She was quiet, well mannered and intelligent. Her essays were concise and well written. Her Potions were usually close to perfect. She did well in her other magical classes: Transfigurations, Charms, Ancient Runes, Defence, and Arithmancy. But her grades in Potions were better than the rest of her other classes.
Her Potions teacher at Hogwarts was Professor Severus Snape. He had sallow skin, a large beak-like nose, and he wore nothing but black. His greasy, lanky hair fell to his shoulders, and his eyes were black like tar. Professor Snape hated dunderheads and incompetent nincompoops. The sixth year girl was neither.
The Hogwarts student knew that Professor Snape thought well of her, even if she wasn't a Slytherin. She was able to answer all his questions in class. She never wasted ingredients. She never caused him any grief or trouble. But although Professor Snape may have thought well of her, she hated him. The sixth year loathed him with a fiery, consuming passion. Her hatred towards him was something that sat low in her gut. It simmered with an unceasing heat, driving her onwards. Whether she was stirring her potions, or writing an essay, she fueled that bitterness. She would never - could never - forgive him for what he had done.
After all, this sixth year girl knew something about the Potions Professor that most other people were ignorant of. It was a story her mother had told her, as she lay dying in St. Mungo's Hospital one year ago.
"The healers tell me there's no cure," her mother had said to her. The older woman had looked so frail and small in that hospital bed. "The disease is a magical corruption. I only have week left at most. I'm sorry darling - I'm so sorry. It breaks my heart to have to leave you. Especially with your father gone."
Her cheeks had been wet with tears, and her mother had reached up a bony arm. Her mother's papery skin had touched her wet cheeks, which made only made her cry more.
"There's something I have to tell you, before I pass on," her mother continued in her weak voice. The student had tried to protest. She didn't want to think of her mother passing on. Hope was her bread and water. Hope was the only thing that kept her going. How could her mother die?
Her father had been killed in the first Wizarding War when she was barely five. If her mother died, she would have no one. No one except muggle relations that she had never met. After all, both her mother and father were muggleborn witches and wizards. They both had magical abilities, but no one else in their family did. These non-magical family members (that the Wizarding world called muggles) would never understand her. Not the way her mother and father did.
"Listen to me darling. This is important," her mother said, pulling her attention away from her distraught thoughts. "It's about your father - about how he died. About how all of us almost died."
"The Death Eater raid?" she had asked her mother. Her voice was tremulous, but it didn't matter - her mother understood.
The Wizarding War had been started by a powerful Dark Wizard. The Dark Wizard was so powerful, so awful that to this day, people feared to say his name. His loyal followers were called Death Eaters. Their ideology included killing muggleborn witches and wizards. They killed people like her mother and father. People like herself.
"Yes, darling," her mother said gently. "I hadn't wanted to tell you this before - it would have been a burden to you. But -" the unspoken words hung in the air. 'But now I'm going to die.' The student was shaking her head, in silent denial. Her breathing felt choked, and her shoulders shook with her fear and grief. Her mother took her hand and squeezed it. Her mother had so little strength left that her grip had no pressure.
"The night of the raid -" Her mother's gaze became distant and haunted. "It happened in the middle of the night. You were having nightmares, so I had left my bed to join you in your room. We - your father and I - knew there was a danger to us. The Death Eater raids had taken so many lives - so many of our friends -" Her mother's voice broke. The student brushed her thumb against the her mother's knuckles. It was a soothing and reassuring gesture.
"As an auror for the Ministry of Magic, your father tried to be as prepared as possible. He had a portkey made up for me. He had one for himself as well. But Death Eater Raids are never something you can predict." Her mother was silent for a moment, lost in the terrible past. "I was woken up that night by the sound of screaming. Your - your father's screams. They were torturing him. Using the Cruciatus curse. I thought it was just a dream - a nightmare at first. I hardly knew where I was. But then I felt you by my side, saying 'mummy, mummy I'm scared' over and over. I knew I had to protect you. I had to get out. But - I didn't want to leave your father. He -" Her mother's eyes were watery. The girl understood. Her mum and dad were soul mates. Soul mates were supposed to be together.
"I told you to hide in the wardrobe - you remember?" Her mother asked. The student nodded. The small space of the wardrobe had felt safe. It was dark, and filled with soft clothes that smelled like the fragrant cleaning charms her mother used.
"My wand was sitting atop your night stand - I was prepared to go help your father. But then your bedroom door burst open." The student also remembered this part of the story. She didn't see who had come in, but she had remembered the bang of the door. The shock of the sound had made her wet herself. She remembered whimpering in fear, biting her knuckles so she wouldn't cry out. She had been only five. She hadn't fully understood was happening, but she knew it was Scary and Bad.
"I know you know most of this story, darling," her mother sounded incredibly sad. "I'm sorry to bring it up at a time like this. But there is one thing I didn't tell you. The Death Eater - Oh darling, it was horrible." Her mother sighed, looking pained to bring up such dark memories.
"He stepped into the room, his wand pointing at me. But your toys had been scattered on the floor - you used to be such a messy little thing." Her mother gave her a weak smile. "He tripped, and his mask fell off. I saw his face - he had been a student at Hogwarts - several years younger than me. Those black eyes - blacker than midnight - And his face, as pale as the moon. I thought I was going to die. It's strange, but the one other thing I remember was the way his hands kept shaking as he pointed his wand at me. Maybe it was excitement. I don't know - I couldn't look away from his wand. He opened his mouth - I remember thinking 'this is it.' But then someone must have called him. He looked away. Then he backed out of the room and shut the door. The rest you remember - I pulled you from the wardrobe, and used the portkey to get away."
The silence that fell was heavy. "Who was he, mum?" the student asked. She wanted to know, but she was also afraid to know.
"His name is Severus Snape. Your Potions Professor." Her mother's voice was flat now. There was a hardness in her eyes.
"Professor Snape? A Death Eater? Mum, why didn't you tell anyone?" the student demanded. She felt shocked - the man had been teaching her for four years. A Death Eater. It was sickening! She felt like there were newts crawling all over her skin.
"Who would believe us?" her mother said, bitterly. "Muggleborns like us - poor muggleborns at that. No influence and power. Yes, your father may have been an auror for the Ministry, but he had only been a rookie. And Snape was protected by one of the most powerful wizards in the world. Albus Dumbledore."
The student paled. "Professor Dumbledore? Our headmaster?" She didn't want to believe it. She couldn't believe it. It was terrible - too terrible to conceive. How could the headmaster of Hogwarts be harbouring such a monster?
"I'm sorry to burden you with this darling," her mother said. The older woman somehow looked smaller and paler than ever.
"I'll kill him," the student said, her voice little more than a whisper. "I'll kill that disgusting Death Eater monster." Her mother squeezed her hand, pulling the student away from her hot rage.
"Darling, listen to me. In our flat, in my room - my dresser has a hidden compartment. To open it, you need a key and a password They key for it is in Gringotts Bank. And the password to open it is 'Justice.' There are some potions and other things in there. Your father - well, as the war got worse, he would sometimes take things from the workplace. Things that might be - useful." The student's eyes widened as she considered her mother's words. Her father had taken contraband from work? She had no idea of this.
"I don't believe that the Ministry will ever do justice by us. We'll have to take it in our own hands. The things in that dresser - they will help you. Just be careful darling - don't do anything that could implicate you. You're bright - so bright. Your father and I are so, so proud of you." Her mother's eye's fluttered shut. Her breathing was strained.
"I promise - we'll have our justice," the student said vehemently. "I promise." Her mother's eyes opened. The older woman looked so tired, and she smiled at her daughter. It was a sad smile.
"I love you so much, darling."
The student felt fresh tears spring from her eyes. "I love you too, mum."
When her mother died, she had gotten the keys to the family vault in Gringotts. As her mother had said, they were a poor family. Nonetheless, they still had some valuables that were worth locking away. With the key in hand, she had returned to the flat where she and her mother had lived. The dresser that her mother mentioned was an unassuming piece of furniture. It was a pale wood, with little ornamentation.
She opened the secret compartment with trepidation. There were seven bottles of potions, and various other unfamiliar devices. Everything in the compartment included a tag with descriptions. However, the descriptions were often vague. There were labels like: 'Unknown effects. Possibly Protective Amulet' or 'Shield Potion. May be unstable.' She supposed that with illegal contraband, her father couldn't have used the conventional routes to discover the items' purposes.
Most of the items were defencive, rather than offensive items. Only two items held any promise. Both were potions. One was labeled 'Possibly petrifies or freezes targets. Effects possibly permanent. Tasteless, but large dose necessary' The other was labeled 'Uncertain. Undetectable, tasteless potion. Makes target highly vulnerable. Effects may depend on individual.'
In the end, the student decided on the second potion. While it would have been interesting to have Professor Snape frozen forever, she wanted him to suffer. She wanted him vulnerable. The only question was, how could she Professor Snape to drink the potion?
There was one final potion that seemed like it might be of use. The label read 'Extremely powerful compulsion potion. Possibly only works on non-humans.' House elves were non-humans. The student smiled, but her smile was the predatory smile of a wolf. There was only one way to find out if the potion worked, and that was to try it.
That had been a year ago, and the potions were now shut away her school trunks. The mysterious protective amulet was around her neck. As the sixth year Hogwarts student listened to Professor Snape's lecture, she felt a bubbling excitement that had nothing to do with potions. The end of the school year was coming up. That would be her time to strike. Next year would be her Seventh and final year at Hogwarts. And during that year, when he was under the effects of the vulnerability potion, she would make Professor Snape pay.
-o-
June 1991
Severus Snape, Potions Master and Professor at Hogwarts sat in a comfortable leather sofa in his personal chambers. It was the end of the school year, and thank Merlin for that. It meant that he would have at least two months of freedom away from the insufferable brats. Although he was teacher, there was no question that he truly disliked children. It was only due to the follies of his Death Eater past that he found himself in this position. There wasn't a day that went by that he didn't regret becoming a Death Eater. After all, being a Death Eater had caused him to lose the one thing that he loved most in this world.
On the other hand, he knew that his fate could be much worse. Without Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts, he would probably be imprisoned and rotting away in Azkaban. The only Death Eaters that had escaped the fate of imprisonment were the ones that could buy their way out. Rich purebloods with connections like Lucius Malfoy. Severus was neither rich, well-connected nor a pureblood Thoughts of that dreaded fortress sent a chill down his spine. He pulled his thoughts away from Azkaban. Dealing with infantile nitwits might not be his idea of an ideal job. But it was better than prison.
Severus wasn't a man to imbibe, but he felt that the end of (yet another) school year called for a stiff drink. He had a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey, just for the occasion. He poured himself two fingers of the amber liquid. It left a pleasant heat in his belly that soon spread out to his limbs. He sat back in his sofa, his eyes drifting closed. A sigh escaped his lips. Just as the air left his lungs, so too did he let his worries flow out and away.
What would he do with his two months of freedom? He had several experimental potions he was working on. Some of his more successful potions earned him more royalties than his paycheque at Hogwarts. Not enough to be considered rich, by any means. But he made enough from his potions to be able to live a comfortable modest life. If not for the debt that he felt he owed to Albus, he would tender his resignation. As it stood, the chains of obligation held him in place.
Perhaps he could use his newfound time to travel and stock up on rare ingredients. He could always use a new gold cauldron as well. Potion ingredients and books were his two great indulgences. Aside from that, his galleons sat at Gringotts Wizarding Bank, untouched. He could also used his time to catch up on the various Potions journals and periodicals that he did not have time for during the school year.
Severus hadn't been drinking enough to be anywhere near drunk. He wasn't all that tired either. And yet, his eyelids felt heavy, and his limbs felt weary. His pleasant thoughts were sedating. And though his chambers at Hogwarts were in the dungeons, there was a merry fire burning at the hearth. It warmed his aching bones and made him feel like he was being caressed by soothing heat. There was so much he could be doing: catching up on reading, tidying up his chambers, checking the stock of the school's potion ingredients. Instead, he fell asleep on his sofa.
-o-
Severus's first thought when he woke up was: 'This bed doesn't feel right.' It was smooth instead of scratchy. It was narrow. And he didn't even have a pillow to rest his head on. But at least his blanket was soft, which in itself was wrong. In fact, that wasn't all that was wrong. The room smelled different - odd. Where was the pervasive smell of alcohol and mustiness? The pungent scent of the polluted river, and odor of unwashed clothes?
He cracked his eyes open, his vision blurred by sleepiness. He was expecting to see dark, ugly wallpaper in a small claustrophobic room. Instead, he found himself in a vast space, with leather chairs, stone walls covered in tapestries, and a cheerful fireplace. He sat up abruptly, noting that his 'bed' was in fact a leather sofa, and his 'blanket' was - some sort of dressing robes, perhaps? They were rather big. He was mortified to discover that under the baggy robes he was naked. He peeked down, and saw that at least he was wearing underpants. Underpants that weren't even his size. He tugged at the waist. They were huge! His ears burned with embarrassment. Was he wearing someone else's clothes?
Severus shook his head, and his lanky black hair swung around him. This was no time to think of clothes. He had to figure out where he was. Where was his mother? His father? His last memory was of his father returning to the house drunk. The stench of it had burned Severus's eyes. This was a common occurrence. Given the choice, Tobias Snape would never be sober. After tracking mud through the dingy entry way, his father then proceeded to scream at his mother Eileen for failing to have supper ready. But Severus knew for a fact that she had made supper. It was sitting in the oven, keeping warm. Just because it hadn't been set out at the table, that didn't mean that supper hadn't been made.
His mother had snapped at his father, her tongue as sharp and brutal as an executioner's axe. Severus knew that this would only make things worse. Eileen Snape was a proud woman. No matter how many invectives his father threw at her, her black eyes retained their scornful fury. But it never stopped there. Tobias Snape had no tolerance for any impertinence. That evening, Snape remembered Tobias lifting his arm up, before backhanding his mother. There had been a sickening 'crack' as his hand connected with her face, and she had fallen back against the warped wooden kitchen cabinets.
But Tobias's brutality never cowed Eileen. As soon as he laid a finger on her, she'd start threatening him with all the magical hexes and curses she would throw at him. She'd see him flayed alive. She'd torture him with the Cruciatus curse She'd burn him alive. She'd expel his entrails. And yet she never did. She didn't even dare bring out her wand from wherever she hid it. Perhaps because she knew that given the chance, Tobias Snape would snap it in a heartbeat. And if he did that, then her spirit would truly be broken.
Severus remembered feeling hungry. He remembered thinking that maybe, he should try and creep over to the oven. If his parents were preoccupied with fighting, they might not notice him sneaking off with some food. He felt guilty about leaving his mother, but his stomach clenched with angry insistence. He needed to eat. However, it was a risk. Any move he made could catch Tobias's eyes. And once Tobias saw him, then he could be a target of his father's drunken rage. Yet he couldn't spend the rest of the evening rooted to this spot on the kitchen floor.
With practiced care, he edged backwards, trying to keep his movements unobtrusive. The peeling linoleum floors made it easy to keep quiet. All he had to do was slide backwards on his socks, though the holes in the bottom caused his bare feet to drag against the smooth and slightly tacky surface. His eyes never left his father's florid face.
Severus could navigate almost every inch of the house at Spinner's End with his eyes closed. But he failed to factor in kitchen chairs, which had been shifted around. His heel hit the foot of the chair, and it scraped against the linoleum. Severus froze. The sound should have been indiscernible amidst his parents' yelling. But somehow, Tobias heard. Tobias's bloodshot eyes had fallen upon Severus. His lip curled into a sneer. Tobias stumbled towards him, his face reflecting a primal brutishness. Alcohol had fueled Tobias's bitterness towards life, and the man was determined to make his wife and son pay for his own unhappiness.
"Where do you think you're going, whelp?" Tobias had said in a way that was half snarled and half slurred. He grabbed Severus by the front of his threadbare shirt. Severus remembered hearing it rip. He also remembered thinking that he would have to mend it later - the Snapes couldn't afford new clothes. The thoughts flashed by in only second, because a second later, Tobias had thrown him across the kitchen. He must have hit his head and blacked out. He did not remember anything else.
Nothing about that memory gave him a hint about where he was now. Had his mother taken him to see a physician? She usually only did that if something was broken. And this place looked nothing like a physician's office. Maybe his father had killed him, he thought morbidly. Maybe he had died, and this was the afterlife. It wasn't anything he imagined the afterlife would look like.
He wondered if he should call out for somebody. This looked like somebody's home. But his survival-instincts screamed at him to stay quiet. To be inconspicuous and not draw attention to himself. With infinite care, he sat up, and touched his toes to the floor. There was a pair of large shoes on the floor, made with a material he hadn't seen before. Some sort of animal-hide perhaps? There were also socks on his feet. They were much too big, and slipped down, pooling beneath his ankles. He frowned. Who had dressed him in these clothes? It was fortunate that there was a fire to warm his feet.
Severus stood up, and to his dismay, his underpants slid off. He clutched the robes tightly around him, like a big blanket. His face burned with embarrassment. He had no desire to let anyone see his lily white body. Lily! What had become of her? Lily Evans was his best friend. He had just spoken to her yesterday - they had a long conversation about attending Hogwarts. They would both be attending their first year this September. A smile crossed his face as he thought of his friend. But thinking of her wouldn't help him out of his current situation, and he pushed her from his mind.
He stood by the sofa, tilting his head as though trying to listen for the presence of others. But all he could hear was the soft crackling of the fire. Stepping out of the large socks, he edged away from the sofa, examining his surroundings with fascination. Something about this room spoke to his very soul. The tapestries on the walls did not display pictures, but rather, geometric shapes and hieroglyphs that drew his eyes. The colours of the wall hangings were warm: earthy browns, burnt orange, amber and black. In fact, most of the items in the room seemed to be earth tones, though there was also a lot of dark green. In contrast, the walls were a cold, grey stone. Whoever had decorated this room had earned his approbation. He felt a spark of hope. Perhaps he would like whoever lived here. He just had to find out who that was.
Severus walked along the wall until he came to an open door. He peered inside the room - it seemed to be a bedroom. There was a large, four poster bed with dark green coverings. It looked comfortable, and he felt envy stir in his heart. His bed at Spinner's end was lumpy and itchy. He usually woke up aching and unrested. He didn't want to intrude in someone's bedroom, so he backed away. The large room had one other door, but this was was closed shut. Severus didn't dare to open it. What if, at the moment he opened it, the owner of this room were to barge in? They would probably beat him, like his father did. Severus scowled at the thought.
With one hand, he held his robes tight around him, and with his other hand, he rubbed the back of his head. His father had thrown him hard against the wall. It was strange that he didn't even have a bump on the back of his head. Maybe his mother had taken him to see a physician after all. That didn't explain how the bump had healed so fast. Unless he had been unconscious for longer than he realized. After circling the room, Severus returned back to the leather sofa and sat down. On the side table, there was a small shot glass and a bottle of whiskey. Severus wrinkled his nose in disgust. At first, he thought he might like whoever lived her, but after seeing the whiskey, he changed his mind. Severus didn't think highly of drunkards.
There was another item on the side table - a book. Severus loved reading. The children at his muggle primary school didn't like him. They made fun of his mismatched (and ill-fitting clothes), and mocked his appearance. He loathed that school. The only thing school had taught him was how to sharpen his tongue. His only friends there had been books.
When Severus was younger, his mother had home-schooled him. She taught him things that were far more interesting than what they taught at the muggle school. She told him about witches and wizards. Eileen had explained a bit about wands, charms, herbology, transfiguration and potions. She also told him about magical creatures. He had found it engrossing. But his father disagreed.
"Stop filling the whelp's head with that garbage!" Tobias had snarled. "He needs to learn real things, like reading and maths. Learning about fairies and unicorns doesn't put food on the table. You're turning him into a nancy boy." Severus didn't think Tobias actually cared about his education. He hated the sight of his son and wanted him out of the house. His mother had fought Tobias about it at first. But in the end, she relented. It took all her energy to defend herself. After their arguments, she had no fight left for her only son. But even if Severus was forced to go to a muggle school, his mother still taught him all about the magical world. It was his heritage. It was who he was.
Severus cast a quick glance around the room. It didn't seem like anyone was coming, so he picked up the book. Wandless Cursing: Advanced Techniques and Spell Creation, the title read. Severus's eyes lit up with interest. His mother had only owned one magical book, and it was about spell theory. There might have been others books long ago, but Eileen had never spoken about it. Tobias would destroy anything that hinted at magic, if given the opportunity.
The book was heavy, and Severus set it on the armrest of the leather sofa. With reverent care, he opened the cover, and gazed down at the beautiful, handwritten text. Magical books were so much better than muggle books. The book described many things that were far beyond Severus's understanding. Nonetheless, he was absorbed by what he read, and the world around him seemed to fall away.
"Severus?" A disembodied voice called. Severus nearly jumped out of his seat. His black eyes darted around the room, trying to seek out the threat. But there was no one in the room.
"Oh dear," the voice said. "Severus, may I come through?" Severus finally looked towards the fire, and was shocked to see the head of an old man watching him. How had he not noticed the greenish hue to the flames? The old man's eyes were filled with concern. He seemed to have a long crooked nose and an even longer beard. Sitting atop his nose were a pair of half-moon spectacles. This must be the Floo Network that his mother had told him about.
"Who are you?" Severus asked warily. The old man may have looked kind, but that didn't mean that Severus trusted him. Severus didn't trust anyone (except maybe Lily). Without conscious awareness, he pulled the blanket-like robes closer around himself, as though wanting protection. His black eyes were slitted with suspicion. The old man seemed to have on odd look on his face, but he soon schooled his features back to grandfatherly geniality.
"My name is Albus Dumbledore," the old man said gently. "I am the headmaster of this school. You are in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
"H-Hogwarts?" Severus asked. He was so amazed that he wasn't even upset by his small stammer. His eyes widened as he once again swept his eyes across the room. Hogwarts! He was in a castle! He couldn't wait to tell Lily about this. She would be so jealous. But not as jealous as her imbecilic and bitter sister, Petunia.
"I'm going to come through, Severus," the headmaster said, still using his gentle tone. He spoke as though Severus were a skittish baby deer. Severus stiffened with alarm. But adults always seemed to do what they want anyway. There was nothing he could do to stop the old man. Severus frowned, and let his lanky hair fall across his face, like a shield.
There was a big burst of green as the headmaster entered the room. The old man's robes were a dizzying purple, accented with an orange trim. His beard was tucked into his belt. The headmaster peered at him through brilliant blue eyes that seemed to twinkle. Severus found it unsettling.
"So, you do not remember who I am, Severus?" the headmaster asked, maintaining a genial tone.
"Unless it's common for wizards to remember people they've never met, then I'd say no, I don't remember you," Severus replied acerbically. He felt defensive, having this unfamiliar man's attention on him. The headmaster's eye's twinkled. Severus scowled.
"What's the last thing you remember, dear boy?"
Severus's scowl deepened. 'Dear boy?' He didn't think he cared for that epithet. He considered lying, but something about the old man made him think it would be a bad idea. "Well," he said after a moment. "My parents were fighting in the kitchen. My dad grabbed my shirt and threw me against the wall, and I lost consciousness. Then I woke up here."
Black eyes met blue ones. The headmaster hummed. He looked past Severus and seemed to notice the bottle of whiskey on the side table.
"May I take this?" the headmaster asked.
Severus shrugged. "It's not mine."
The headmaster's eyes twinkled. "Indeed. Tell me, Severus. What year is it?"
"The year?" Severus asked, incredulous. "It's 1971, of course."
"Ah. So that would make you eleven, I believe. You'll be starting your first year at Hogwarts in September."
Severus felt a rush of excitement. "Yes, me and Lily." The headmaster's expression changed. There was a strange sadness, mingled with sympathy in his eyes. Severus felt a twist in his gut. Something was wrong.
"Severus, I'd like you to come with me to see Madam Pomfrey in the Infirmary." The headmaster's tone was now rather grave. Taken aback, Severus nodded. Perhaps a physician would have some answers to the conundrum of his situation. When Severus stood, he was hyper aware of the awkwardness of his oversized robes. Noticing his problem, Professor Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, and he smiled with amusement.
"We'll have to do something about that, won't we?" he asked. He waved his wand, and the copious folds of fabric shrunk until the black billowy robes fit Severus's frame. He looked down at himself in awe. It was both remarkable and yet painful. Remarkable because of the nature of the magic. Painful because he had spent so much of his childhood wearing ill-fitted, mismatched clothes. If it had been so easy to fix, why hadn't his mother done it for him? He swallowed the lump of bitterness in his throat.
Severus trailed behind Professor Dumbledore as the headmaster led him towards the Hospital Wing. He could not stop himself from gawking at everything he saw. The dungeons themselves were rather dark and maze-like. But once he was on the main floor, he felt like he was in an actual castle. The stonework of the walls were ornate and elaborate. There were columns, scrolls and gothic arches. On the walls were portraits of all shapes and sizes. His mother had told him about moving portraits, but this was the first time he had seen them for himself. The figures in the portraits seemed to be as curious about him as he was about them.
There were corridors lined with suits of armour. There were tapestries on the walls that depicted magical creatures (often doing odd things, like the tapestry of a group of dragons sitting down for afternoon tea). Every so often, there would be a random door, and Severus wondered where it went. The architecture of Hogwarts defied logic. It was every bit as magical as he had hoped. Some small part of him that was still child-like and innocent was enchanted.
The Hogwarts infirmary was a large, open room with high ceilings and bright windows that let in the golden sunlight. There were a number of crisp white hospital beds in the infirmary, looking pristine and untouched. From a door to the side, a kindly looking woman with grey hair and sharp blue eyes bustled forward. Her eyes shifted from Professor Dumbledore to Severus, and her eyes widened.
"S - Severus?" the matron said, her voice hesitant. She looked back at the headmaster, as though needing confirmation. The headmaster's eyes twinkled, and he gave a slight nod. However, Severus's sense of unease only grew. How did everyone here know him? His mother had never mentioned that magic could allow you to know people you had never met.
"Severus, can you tell me what happened?" the matron asked.
Severus flicked a glance up at the headmaster before returning his gaze to - what did the headmaster say her name was? Madam Pomfrey?
"What do you mean, what happened?" Severus asked, trying not to snap. "I just want to know how I got here."
"He doesn't remember, Poppy. Not anything," Professor Dumbledore told the matron.
Madam Pomfrey's eyes widened, and she looked back at Severus. "Come along then, dear." With a gentle hand behind his back, the matron herded Severus towards one of the hospital beds. He sat on the edge of the bed, his legs dangling.
"I'm just going to use a few diagnosis spells on you." The matron smiled reassuringly, before waving her wand, and uttering the incantations. Severus watched her with interest. He could see lights coming from her wand, and felt light brush of magic. It was so subtle that if he hadn't been paying close attention, he wouldn't have noticed it. The matron said a few more spells, and then pursed her lips. Professor Dumbledore, who was standing by her side, looked at her with raised eyebrows suggesting mild curiosity.
"May I check your limbs?" the matron asked. Severus nodded. Madam Pomfrey quickly examined his legs, and carefully examined both arms.
"Severus seems to be a touch malnourished. Otherwise, he is a perfectly normal eleven year old boy, free from any - ah marks and blemishes," Madam Pomfrey said. She appeared to be a bit dazed by the diagnosis she had just given. "Perhaps we should Floo St. Mungo's? A specialist may help."
"Why would I need a specialist?" Severus asked suspiciously. A specialist implied there was something wrong with him.
"Oh, don't worry dear. There's nothing wrong with you - aside from the odd - circumstance - ah Albus, I need to speak to you." The matron took the headmaster by the arm and pulled him away. Severus watched them through slitted eyes. There was something they weren't telling him. He was sure of it. The headmaster and the matron spoke in hushed tones. Severus felt a prickle of irritation, and glowered towards the two adults. They paid him no heed.
Severus found himself wishing that he had brought that book with him. His mother had mentioned wandless magic, but since she hadn't been able to perform it herself, there had been little that she could tell him. The idea of being able to curse without and wand was enticing. A wolfish grin crossed his face as he imagined the things he could do to his father. If he could learn to perform curses without a wand, Tobias Snape would never lay another finger on him (or his mother) again. His fantasies of tormenting Tobias Snape kept him sufficiently entertained until the headmaster and Madam Pomfrey returned.
"Severus," said the matron. "We've decided that it would be best to run some more tests. You'll have to go to St. Mungo's for that." She glanced towards Dumbledore before turning her attention back to Severus. "The headmaster will accompany you." Severus frowned but nodded. He hoped that someone there could tell him what was going on. Did his parents even know that he was here? Maybe he could ask the headmaster if he could borrow an owl and send a letter to Lily. She would want to know everything he could tell her about Hogwarts.
Severus had never been to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries before. His mother had always taken him to see muggle doctors. However, once the novelty of experience wore off, he found himself vexed with the tedium. The healers wanted to run a barrage of tests. The first two were interesting. After that, it got progressively more tiring.
For whatever reason, Professor Dumbledore had brought the bottle of whiskey along. Could the headmaster be an inebriate? Severus hadn't actually seen him drink from the bottle. He did hand it off to one of the healers at some point, but Severus didn't hear what they had to say. By the end of the day, he was relieved to be back at Hogwarts.
After stumbling out of the Floo, and brushing the soot off his robes, Severus turned towards Dumbledore. "When am I going home?" he asked. It wasn't that he was eager to see his mother and father. But he did want to see Lily. She wouldn't believe all he had to tell her.
"Ah - you'll be staying here for now, my boy," the headmaster said gently.
Severus frowned. He liked Hogwarts, but he didn't understand why he was here. "Can I at least borrow an owl? So I can write to Lily?"
The strange sadness returned to the headmaster's eyes. Once again, there was that wrench in Severus's gut. "What are you not telling me?" Severus asked, through narrowed eyes.
"I'm afraid I cannot tell you yet, Severus," the headmaster said. "You were always too perceptive, by far. Would you like to see the library?"
It was an obvious ploy to distract him, but Severus could sense that the headmaster would not divulge anything further. He might not be happy with the situation, but Severus knew he couldn't say 'no' to the library. Especially Hogwart's magical library.
It was over a week before they they told Severus anything. During that period of time, Severus explored passages and towers of Hogwarts, or he was in the library. Being away from his parents did not trouble him a great deal. But it bothered him to not be able to speak to Lily about his experiences. The meals in the Great Hall delighted him. The Great Hall was a vast open space, and the ceiling was charmed to look like the sky. His mother had told him all about it, but hearing about something and seeing it were two different matters. It was strange to have the few staff members eating together in such a vast space. But it was hard to envision the Great Hall being filled with students. He found the food (that magically appeared on the golden plates) to be delicious. Much better than anything his mother ever made. And he received three meals a day! Three! Unfortunately, he was also forced to drink nutritional potions with each meal, but when he learned of their purpose, he forced them down willingly.
Late in the week, he had managed to find the Owlery during his explorations. Excited, he had borrowed parchment and a quill, and penned a long letter to Lily. However, when he attempted to get the owls to deliver the letter, they had looked at him with blank, blinking eyes. Some of the owls wouldn't leave their perch. Some flew in a small circle and returned back with the same letter. His attempts to prod them had only earned him irritated nips. Perhaps the owls couldn't find a muggle address. He wasn't sure - it didn't seem to make sense.
Anytime that he saw any of the staff (all of whom had known his name), they had given him searching looks, as though waiting for something to happen. He had met Professor Minerva McGonagall (the Head of Gryffindor and the Transfiguration teacher); Professor Filius Flitwick (the Head of Ravenclaw and the Charms teacher); Professor Sybill Trelawney (the Divination teacher, whom Severus was convinced was completely daft); and Rubeus Hagrid (the Keeper of the Keys and Grounds). Professor McGonagall tended to look troubled and pursed her lips whenever she saw him. Professor Flitwick's eyes sparkled with laughter, as though he was amused at some silent joke. Severus did his best to steer clear of Professor Trelawney. As for Hagrid, his reaction was the most interesting of all.
When Severus had first encountered the Keeper of the Keys, the first word from the man's mouth had been: Profess'r! They had been in the Great Hall at the time, and Severus had caught Professor Dumbledore giving Hagrid a warning glance. The gigantic Keeper of the Keys, with his shaggy hair and wild beard had snapped his mouth shut. Severus had later discovered that Hagrid was a half-giant, which explained the man's immense proportions.
Still, Hagrid's reaction had been telling. The other professors had looked at Severus with surprise, but they were all quick to guard their reactions. However, Hagrid was far too open to be able to hide anything. Hagrid did not strike Severus as someone capable of duplicity. If Severus did not receive answers soon, he decided that he would find a way to get them out of Hagrid.
That week Severus had been sitting at one of the tables in the library, engrossed in book on Potions theory and preparation techniques. He was reading about the difference between slicing and chopping, when he felt a presence at his elbow. Looking over, he was greeted by the sight of lime green and yellow robes. He didn't have to look up to know that it was Professor Dumbledore who stood by his side. Still, it was polite to look people in the eyes, so he glanced upwards.
"Hello Severus. It's a beautiful day," the headmaster said, smiling affably. "I was thinking we could take a stroll in the courtyards and enjoy a nice chat."
It was the first time the headmaster had suggested a walk. For all his friendliness, the headmaster wasn't the most sociable of wizards. Severus was sure that the 'nice chat' would be more than just small talk about the weather. Nodding his head, Severus folded the book closed and tucked it under his arm. Severus followed the headmaster out the library and through the corridors. Dumbledore kept up a steady stream of insipid questions as they walked ("How do you like Hogwarts so far?" "Your quarters are comfortable?" "Have you spoken to many of the portraits yet?") In reply, Severus gave colourless answers.
Taking one of the side doors, the headmaster led him out to one of the courtyards, ringed by the tall stone walls of the building. It was a lush June day. All around him, plants were in bloom, and the foliage of the trees was a vibrant green. There were grassy lawns, and a paved pathway and central area.
"Have you noticed anything unusual in the past week?" Dumbledore asked. He used the same good-natured tone of voice, that Severus almost didn't notice that his question was no longer a trivial one.
Severus was about to give a flat, meaningless answer, but then he snapped his mouth closed, looking up at the headmaster with suspicion. Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled. Severus pursed his lips. It was hard to escape the feeling that the headmaster was toying with him.
"Other than the way the Professors all appear to know me, no," Severus admitted. "I don't understand why I'm still here. I like Hogwarts. It's preferable to our place at Spinner's End. But I can't make heads or tails of it. Did something happen to my parents?" Though he was only eleven, Severus's black eyes were piercing. Dumbledore blinked, looking rather owlish for a few brief seconds.
"Your test results came back from St. Mungo's," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. Severus wanted to snap that it was rude to answer questions with another question. However, he was curious about his results, so he kept his mouth shut. He wasn't even certain what they had been trying to test.
"Someone had slipped an unknown potion into your firewhiskey." Severus was about to protest that he didn't drink whiskey, whether fire or any other sort. But something about the headmaster's expression told him to keep quiet.
"The potion is still being analyzed in a lab, but it seems as though its effects are permanent. They are still trying to determine some of the ingredients. There were two ingredients discovered that are extremely rare. And one that we have never seen before. The potion is created to interact with the drinker's magic, and the effects differ for each person. Ah, but listen to me prattling on. I'm sure you don't wish to hear about such things, do you, my boy?" Dumbledore gave him a cheery smile. Severus felt his irritation rising. Just as the headmaster was starting to get into something interesting, he cut himself off. Severus got the sense that he was doing it on purpose.
"Where was I?" the headmaster continued, before Severus could get a word in. "Ah - the effects of the potion." Professor Dumbledore looked down at Severus. His blue eyes looked somehow more piercing through the half-moon spectacles. His expression had become serious. Severus wanted - no he needed the answers. But he also had the sense that he wouldn't want to hear the answers. He felt his palms go clammy. Meeting the headmaster's gaze, Severus nodded for him to continue.
"I cannot say what the potion would do to anyone else, but in your case, Severus, it seems to have de-aged you. There are potions and spells that can temporarily or permanently affect a person's age, but these potions usually only affect the physical body. In your case, the potion has affected your mind as well. It has made you an eleven year old, both in body, mind and spirit." Dumbledore scanned Severus's face, trying to gauge his reaction, but Severus maintained his composure. He was still analyzing the headmaster's words in his mind. The Headmaster had not yet revealed one of the most important details: how much had he been de-aged?
"What year is it?" Severus asked, his voice flat.
"It's 1991. You are - you were -"
"Thirty-one," Severus cut in, his voice little more than a whisper. His quick mind had done the calculation. Dumbledore nodded, still grave and watchful. Severus's mind was a whirl - what could have happened in in the twenty years that he had missed? What had he done with this life? Did he have a job? Friends? A family even? Thoughts of his family made him think of his parents. What could have become of them? And Lily! If he was thirty-one, then so too was she. What had happened to her? Knowing Lily, she would be doing great things. Perhaps she was married. Could he have married Lily? His eleven year old self had never contemplated marriage. It was something that older people did, and it had no bearing on his life. But he wouldn't have minded being married to Lily. He wanted to know everything, but what did he want to know first? About himself, his parents, or Lily?
"Tell me about what I was like," Severus said. Though he was only eleven, and was often abused, his mother had instilled in him a sense of pride. He was a wizard, and wizards and witches had a long and proud lineage. Thus, it was not difficult for Severus to take on a dictatorial tone.
"You are - were a teacher here at Hogwarts," Professor Dumbledore began. Severus's eyes widened in surprise. Him? A teacher? His gaze drifted to a tall archway as his thoughts turned to the harried teachers at the muggle primary school. Severus's face scrunched up in distaste. His expression must have amused the headmaster. When Severus looked back up at him, he noticed that the twinkle had returned to Dumbledore's eyes.
"Yes, you received your Potions Mastery when you were twenty. You were one of the youngest in centuries to attain that designation. You began teaching here at Hogwarts in 1981," the headmaster continued. Severus's frown deepened. He felt a glow of accomplishment at having received his Potions Mastery at such a young age. But to have begun teaching only a year later? Why didn't he hire himself to a private lab to make experimental potions? His eleven year old self thought that that choice seemed more logical (and appealing).
Severus waited for the headmaster to continue, but the headmaster had fallen silent. Severus's black eyes met the headmaster's blue ones, and Severus's expression was expectant. The sparkle of humour had vanished and the Headmaster was once again a mix of thoughtful and serious. What was Dumbledore hiding? Surely there had been more to Severus's life than being a teacher. If Severus's future-self had done nothing with his life other than teach, Severus would hex that future-self until he couldn't sit down any more. The idea of achieving so little in his life was disturbing.
"Did I have a - family?" Severus asked. Perhaps if he had been busy with a family, that would explain why he had done nothing more than teach. He thought back to Mr. and Mrs. Evans - Lily's parents. They had had a loving marriage, and had loved both their daughters. Whenever he had visited, they had always treated him with kindness (and plied him with food). It wouldn't have been so bad if he had a marriage like the Evans. He could take pride in something like that. However, his thoughts leapt ahead. If he had a family - Merlin's beard! They'd be fully grown, while he was little more than a child. It was a disquieting notion.
"Ah - well, you were unmarried Severus," the headmaster said. Severus found that to be both a relief and a disappointment. A relief that he did not have an adult wife waiting for him. A disappointment that - well - he had no one. For some reason, the disappointment felt heavier than the relief.
"What about Lily?" If he hadn't gotten married, had Lily? It was only because Severus had been watching the headmaster closely that he saw the pang of sadness that flashed in the old man's eyes. But the look of grief had vanished with the same swiftness as it had appeared. Severus felt like there was a band around his chest, constricting him so that he could not breath. What could have happened to Lily? His question had connoted marriage. But he got the sense that the headmaster was thinking about more than just whether or not Lily was married.
"There had been a war," Dumbledore began, his voice heavy. The words were enough that Severus knew where this was leading. But he needed to hear confirmation. "She and her husband were killed. They were survived by their son - Harry Potter." Severus felt that he had received a blow, and he must have staggered because he felt the headmaster's grip on his arm. The thoughts of the husband and son fell to the wayside. Lily was dead. Lily - his Lily - was dead! Severus thought he heard the headmaster apologize. But the words had sounded like they were at the other end of a long tunnel. He felt like he just seen her a few weeks ago. The memory was vibrant and bright - her flashing red hair, her lively green eyes. Her mischievious smile. Her uninhibited laughter. Her enthralled expression as he told her about magic. Their attempts at controlling their magic without wands. He didn't want to believe that she was gone.
The headmaster's words broke his train of thoughts. "- lot to take in. I'll take you to the infirmary."
"No!" Severus exclaimed, wild-eyed with shock and grief. He felt like he was on the verge of collapse, but he needed to know more. "What - what happened?" His voice sounded broken and small. No matter how bad Tobias Snape's abuses had been, he had never managed to bring Severus to this degree of devastation.
The headmaster's blue eyes were troubled. He was unsure of whether to burden the young Severus with this knowledge. But Severus was resolute. Dumbledore felt his heart breaking for the young boy. Severus - the adult Severus - had already experienced so much pain in his life. It struck Dumbledore as unjust to inflict more pain on Severus's younger self. "There was a powerful Dark Wizard named Voldemort. His followers were known as Death Eaters. Their main tenets were blood purity and magical superiority. They hated muggles and muggleborns."
Severus's breath hitched. Lily had been a muggleborn. Severus did not care for muggles and he was indifferent to their plight. But Lily was different. His hands were tightly fisted, clutching at his black robes. He felt the poisonous vines of hatred sprouting in his heart towards Voldemort and his Death Eaters.
"Lily and James - her husband - fought on the side against Voldemort and the Death Eaters. During the war, a prophecy had been made. The prophecy stated that child with the power to vanquish Voldemort would be born. Lily was with child at the time," the headmaster continued.
Severus could already see where this was heading. Hearing it spoken aloud only amplified the horror and reality of it. His hatred for Voldemort grew, until his entire body trembled with the need for vengeance.
"Lily and James went into hiding after Harry was born. But they were betrayed, and Voldemort found them. He killed both Lily and James, but when he attempted to kill Harry, the killing curse rebounded and destroyed his physical body."
Severus's brow furrowed as he took in the Headmaster's words. The great Dark Wizard was defeated - by a baby? And why had Dumbledore said that Voldemort's physical body had been destroyed? Why not just say that he had been killed by his own killing curse? His mother had told him all about the unforgivable curses when he was a child. These were curses that could penetrate magical shields. There was no defence against them, aside from not being hit. His quick mind absorbed the fact that somehow, a baby had miraculously survived the killing curse.
"Don't underestimate Voldemort, my boy," the headmaster said, catching Severus's scowl. There was a hard, iron edge to the headmaster's voice, and Severus looked up at him in surprise. "His physical body may be gone, but I don't believe him to be dead. Only waiting and biding his time."
The implication sent a chill running down Severus's spine. So not only had the baby survived the killing curse, but in a way, Voldemort had as well. The headmaster had fallen silent, but his expression had softened. Severus was still in a state of emotional shock from all that he had learned.
"Did - did I try and help Lily?" Severus asked, timorously. He wanted to think that married or not, he would have tried to protect Lily. But he wasn't certain - after all, there were times that he didn't stand up for his mother while his father was beating her. But if he had tried to help Lily, that was some small thing that he could hold on to, at least. An even deeper sadness flashed in the headmaster's eyes, and Severus felt a horrible sense of sickness suffusing through his gut.
"You did in the end," Dumbledore replied, and his voice was both quiet and heavy. In the end? Had he been an indifferent bystander in the war? Or - No. It couldn't be. He wouldn't have been on the other side, opposing Lily, would he? He wasn't aware of it, but he was shaking his head, panicked denial stamped on his youthful face. Severus's eyes were wide but unseeing. The headmaster was silent, and eventually Severus looked up at him. His black eyes were an abyss of despair.
"Tell me," Severus said, his words both a command and a plea.
The depth of pain in the headmaster's eyes mirrored Severus's. "You had heard the seer as she made the prophecy about Harry. When you discovered that it was about Lily, you came to me and asked me to save her."
Severus was horrified. Had he been such a coward? Had he really stood aside in the shadows, and done nothing until that moment? And it hadn't even helped. He hadn't been able to save Lily. And now she was dead. The hatred he felt for Voldemort turned towards himself.
"No, Severus," Dumbledore said firmly, as if reading his thoughts. "You are not to blame for this. Voldemort is the true monster, and it was he who uttered the curse that took her life. You are not responsible for his actions."
Severus's self-hatred subsided by a small degree, but he still felt terrible. He wished he could go back in time - that he had done more for her. "I - I need to be alone for a while," Severus stammered. The headmaster nodded, placing a sympathetic hand on Severus's shoulder before leaving him to himself.
Severus walked, but he had no sense of where he was going. His steps took him back to his chambers in the dungeon. It occurred to him now that these were his rooms - or at least, the rooms of the adult Severus Snape. And the things in the room were his things. The artifacts of his old life. A life teaching children. A life with no family. Did he even have friends?
He entered the chamber and sunk onto the leather sofa, his elbows on his knees, and his hands clutching his greasy hair. The sense of loss he felt was indescribable. It hadn't just been Lily that he lost. It was himself. He hadn't even asked Dumbledore about his parents. A creeping suspicion entered his mind - why hadn't he been sent to his parents? The fact that he had been kept here at Hogwarts, instead of sent to Spinner's End - puzzle pieces began to fall into place. He felt a cold certainty at that moment. His parents were dead. He was at Hogwarts because there was no home to return to. There was truly nobody.
His agile mind began to consider other things that he had not asked the headmaster in his moment of shock. Anything was better than thinking about how Lily was gone. Gone forever. Gone beyond his reach. He considered how he had been an adult before drinking a potion - where, then was his wand? Severus also thought that he had detected affection in the headmaster's eyes as he looked at him. Had they been friends? Is that why Severus had chosen to become a teacher? Severus frowned. He couldn't imagine choosing such an awful career based on just friendship.
And what had become of Lily's son? What had Dumbledore said his name was? Harry Potter. What of him? Was he staying with relatives? On Lily's side, there were the Evans and Petunia. He couldn't imagine Petunia taking in the child. The notion of that sour girl raising a child made his skin crawl. But at least the Evans were loving and kind people.
Severus couldn't bear to remain trapped with his own spiraling thoughts. Instead, he made his way to the library. It was 1991. He had twenty years of history to catch up on.
A/N: Please Review and let me know what you think so far! Constructive criticism also welcome.
I don't think Severus actually went to a muggle primary school. From reading the canon, it sounded like he might have been home-schooled. But I thought it'd be an interesting touch to his history (that would also kind of mirror Harry's experiences)
I'm Canadian so please, please correct me if anything in my language sounds 'off' - I know how jarring something like that can be