Summary: What if Severus Snape made a few different choices? A Snape-centric AU in which he manages his fullest potential, and stands against the world in his own way. Warning: characters age-adjusted. Snape/?

Prologue

January 9, 1960

The pounding of rain against the rooftop was the only sound audible in the room other than the gasps of a laboring woman. Grimacing as his wife's grip on his hand neared bone-crushing force, the sole male occupant of the room waited with bated breath for the announcement. His son – for it would be a son, stubborn as his father even before leaving the womb – was sparing the midwife no quarter in his attempt to maintain his current state of living.

Tobias sighed wistfully, considering, for a moment, the blissful ignorance of a newborn child. Ignorance lead to curiosity, a mechanism meant to dispel ignorance, which would inevitably lead to pain; children somehow found their way to the least innocuous of items. In some, this pain would even lead them back to ignorance. Tobias wished that he didn't on occasion personify his own thoughtful musings.

A wail started – 'severed, even' – the new father – 'for I am a father now' - from his idle thoughts. A boy it was, and with such a stern young face, even in the midst of wailing for precious air. Tobias gingerly cradled his newly released hand, but did not take his eyes off of his wife and child. Even after labour, Eileen sat upright against the pillows at her back, a soft smile playing across her tired face as she regarded the child in her arms.

She looked at him, and had never looked as lovely. "We need a name for him," she half-whispered, as the door closed behind the forgotten midwife.

Tobias grunted, coming closer to look upon his newborn son. Such a serious visage…

"I had hoped to call him Septimus," Eileen continued, "in memory of my great-uncle, a well-celebrated politician himself named for the Emperor of old."

The baby wailed, and Tobias made a face. "Septimus sounds too stodgy for my liking, what with you magic folk and your numerical obsession with the number seven. A right jinx if you ask me."

"Well, what would you suggest then?"

Tobias contemplated this question. "I will admit I like the emperor angle quite a bit. If you wanted to name him for Septimus Severus, then why not Severus?" He refused to admit that his thought of severance from his thoughts had played any role in his suggestion.

"Hmm…" Eileen was thinking this over carefully. The child in her arms quieted, and was watching her curiously. She opened her mouth, but then closed it again, thoughtful the whole while. "Well, it wouldn't b after my uncle then, but my son doesn't feel much a politician anyway."

Tobias snorted, and the child looked at him. "Good riddance. Damned snooty idiots keep making my job all the more precarious." And it was true. Tobias, despite his not-inconsiderable intellect, had been forced into labour at a young age in order to help support his own family. Unskilled labour had been the only option, and the nearby textile mill had made his choice simple. And the labour force at the mill was shrinking all the time due to the technologic innovations saving any need for the rich owners to pay salaries. It was all he could do to stay in good favour.

Eileen grimaced. While she knew she could contribute in small ways, Tobias was not the sort who wanted his wife making active contribution to the family livelihood. Backdated, but there it was. While he was tolerant of it because of her, she was also quite aware of his disposition towards magic. "I know, dear," she murmured, "but I do like the thought of our son as a conqueror."

Tobias smirked. "Severus it is then. Both in name and in manner it seems, the young blighter has stopped his wailing already." Severus, as he was to be called, watched him carefully, almost impassively.

Eileen tested the name. "Severus," she whispered. "Yes, it will do nicely." The parents looked to one another and locked eyes, sharing a secretive smile as their son settled to sleep. Unfortunately, the peace that the Snape family enjoyed at present would not last even the course of the coming year.