Author's Note: So basically, I want to get into writing FanFiction, as I've been completely absorbed by it for years, but I had no idea what to write so I went looking for prompts. This was posted in Prompts Both Plain and Perfect by LillyOfTheField:
'Maybe someone would like to write something lighthearted, about Fred and George slipping an Elixir to Induce Euphoria into Snape's drink?'
Except, it's a bit of a mix of humour and angst, and I'm better equipped to write angst (though I tried not to go too heavy, I swear).
Disclaimer: The familiar bits belong to JKR (or Google, or Merriam-Webster…got to get your definitions from somewhere). Also, it's ever so slightly AU.
Trigger Warning: Implied depression.
—
Euphoria: A feeling of well-being or elation… extreme happiness. Severus Snape has lived with his guilt since October 31st, 1981, and he no longer knows what it means to be happy – until one morning in 1993.
Happiness. It was an abstract concept, one that had nearly faded beyond recall. Severus Snape, faced continuously with almond shaped, emerald green eyes and the memories they evoked, had been buried under the weight of his guilt for twelve years, and his shaky memory of happiness was intermingled with pain and grief.
The surly potions professor was by all accounts a menace to the vast majority of Hogwarts students, and those who took a moment to think about it found his position as a teacher mystifying. Who would let a man who clearly hated children…or, well, everyone…be responsible for teaching the youth of magical Britain such a highly volatile discipline as potions?
However, Professor Dumbledore was a man renowned for making questionable decisions (though these were usually related to his wardrobe choices), so the appointment of Professor Snape never truly raised as many eyebrows as it perhaps should have.
—
Fred and George Weasley were rather unconcerned with the reasoning behind Snape occupying a teaching position, but rather, the frequent point deductions and detentions that they incurred as a result (granted, they lost points and received detentions from Professor McGonagall on a regular basis, but they rather felt that her punishments tended to be justified – and proportional to the mischief they got up to).
The twins were presently attempting to scrub away stubborn, suspiciously coloured – and generally revolting – cauldron grime (for the egregious crime of loud sneezing…with colds), and the ingredient fumes which lingered in the potions classroom were, if you asked them, fuelling an ingenious line of thought.
They had come to the astute conclusion that Severus Snape was in a bad mood.
Often.
Frequently.
All the time.
People tended to behave irrationally when they were in a bad mood, lashing out and generally showcasing their worst character traits. This was excusable in friends and family, because they tended to get over their bad moods and stop lashing out or behaving childishly (unless they were, of course, a child). Professor Snape never seemed to surface from his bad mood, and the twins felt that he could perhaps use a little help.
For his own good of course.
Not because the Weasley twins were fed up with his temper.
Their developing plan of action, they deemed, was justifiable, because Severus Snape never, even accidentally, showcased his positive qualities. Perhaps he'd make some friends, or find a lady-friend down in Hogsmeade.
They would have liked to make it a regular thing, but they reasoned that he'd recognise the effects of an Elixir to Induce Euphoria after he'd first been dosed with it, and would probably make a habit of checking his breakfast fare (or anything he planned to imbibe or consume if he was smart, which, they grudgingly conceded, he probably was).
However, they hoped that once he'd been forced to lighten up a bit, a redeemable human being ready to assume responsibility for his own happiness might surface. A fool's dream perhaps, but Fred and George knew that anything was possible.
Except removing the grease from Snape's hair.
They'd already tried that.
—
Brewing Elixir to Induce Euphoria was relatively simple for the twins. For all that Snape belittled them, Fred and George needed to be relatively skilled with potions if they wanted to pursue a career creating their own products.
Slipping the elixir into Snape's drink would be decidedly less simple, and would require a diversion which would briefly draw Snape's eyes away from his goblet. It only needed to be momentary, as long as it took for Fred to cast a switching spell, replacing Snape's pumpkin juice with the dosed pumpkin juice. (It was actually quite fortunate that Snape, for all his faults, seemed to have a soft spot for pumpkin juice, as it mostly masked the sunshine-yellow hue and the sweetness of the elixir).
Fortunately for the Great Hall's Monday morning entertainment, the Weasley twins had never favoured simple diversions, and George Weasley was loudly proclaiming his love for a sweet (and occasionally devious) fourth year at the Hufflepuff table.
This in itself might not have attracted much attention from the dour potions professor, but the following explosion of a wide assortment of flowers centred on George and his lady friend was not only noisy, but rather spectacular. A noisy crack not dissimilar to apparition ensured all eyes were focused on George, and the ensuing bright flash covered the white light of Fred's perfectly timed switching spell.
George, grinning broadly, tucked a forget-me-not behind the girl's ear and strode back to the Gryffindor table, dropping down on the bench beside Fred, who was sporting a satisfied smirk.
At the head table, Professor Dumbledore stood, and once he felt he had George's attention he flicked his eyes pointedly to the flowers which rested in the porridge of several Hufflepuff students. George, taking his meaning, grinned abashedly, and Dumbledore vanished the flowers – bar the forget-me-not behind the dazed fourth year's ear – with twinkling eyes.
Professor Snape was rather less amused, and looked as though he would quite like to give George a detention for the disturbance, though he visibly gritted his teeth and remained silent.
The Weasley twins were briefly reminded of their brother Charlie on the rare occasion they'd seen him hungover, who tolerated an abundance of noise or light with roughly the same amount of grace.
Honestly, being permanently hungover would explain Snape's grumpiness too.
Looking rather disgruntled, Snape massaged his temples and picked up his goblet. The twins held their breath, while simultaneously attempting to appear absorbed with wolfing down their breakfasts (if Fred choked a little, George didn't mention it).
With a sigh, Snape downed his goblet, appearing as though he were wishing it was something stronger.
Maybe they should have switched his drink with firewhiskey?
—
Severus paused, and then set his goblet down very slowly, his eyebrows drawing together.
Something wasn't quite right.
Was his pumpkin juice… slightly too sweet?
The effects of the elixir he didn't know he'd drunk hit him suddenly, and his first instinct was to laugh, because if he'd been so careless with his drink in his younger years, he certainly would not have survived to have an Elixir to Induce Euphoria, of all things, slipped into his drink.
His head was spinning.
It was too much to process.
Severus Snape didn't know how to be happy, and here he was caught in a whirlwind of euphoria. It was rather fortunate that the elixir prevented anxiety attacks. Though not prone to them, Severus was well and truly out of his depth, his mind and body seeming to painfully shudder into life again, experiencing a depth of positive emotion he hadn't felt since before his first and only true friend had died as a result of his mistakes.
It was irrational.
He had no reason to be happy, let alone euphoric. Not anymore.
He relaxed. It didn't matter.
It was… a relief?
It was everything muggles hoped for when they took anti-depressants. Merely by (unwittingly) taking something he was briefly free of the pain which he'd worn like a shroud for so long. He felt as though he were resurfacing from terrible depths, as though he could breathe after doing so long without. Better than that. He felt as though he could live, with every positive thing that entailed.
Severus Snape was a logical man, and the elixir did not impede his thought process, which would have exceeded the Weasley twin's wildest dreams. (Though he was unaware of that).
Lily could be unforgiving when slighted – the disaster of their fifth year came to mind – and he had inadvertently brought about the death of her and her husband, leaving her only child to be raised an orphan. Certainly, he had deserved his guilt, but it changed nothing.
It was illogical, because it inhibited him.
He had wanted to be better than his father.
He didn't physically lash out at the students in anger, but he verbally abused them on a daily basis.
Just like his father had.
By holding on to his anger, his guilt, and his pain, he had remained the boy who his best friend had had to walk away from. He could see that now.
She might never forgive him, but when he went into Death's arms, he hoped that he would finally be the person that they had both wanted him to be.
The tension drained out of his shoulders.
He smiled.
—
Fred and George breathed the faintest sigh of relief. For a few minutes there, they were sure they'd accidentally poisoned Snape.
They hated him, but not enough to poison him.
Azkaban was a major deterrent there.
Snape actually looked…relaxed. Not exactly the ball of energy anyone under the influence of the elixir was supposed to be, but better than the disconcerted, lightly shaking professor of the past few minutes.
Madam Hooch leaned over to speak to him in low tones. Her face seemed as stern as ever though, and her sharp eyes gave nothing away, so the twins weren't sure if she was asking about his welfare.
More important though, was watching how Snape interacted with her. He didn't sneer, snap, or frown as far as the twins could tell, and though he wasn't quite smiling his face looked a little softer. Less stony than usual, definitely.
Further down the table, Professor Lupin looked highly amused, glancing between the twins and Snape's goblet, and Gred and Forge wondered how he'd caught them out (though they doubted he'd tell anyone or deduct points, based off the grin on his face).
A quick glance around the hall assured the twins that nobody else, save maybe Dumbledore, appeared to have noticed anything, and they cheerfully finished their breakfast, quite looking forward to potions (which was an event in and of itself).
—
That Monday of 1993 would probably be remembered forever by those students who had potions before lunch. Snape only deducted 20 points that day…and he deducted them from Slytherin, unimpressed with Malfoy's attempt to sabotage Neville Longbottom's potion. Looking vaguely horrified, he graced the class with a very long, though informative, lecture about the potential consequences of deliberately deviating from or sabotaging a recipe without a proper understanding of how different ingredients react together.
Had Malfoy succeeded with his attempt, he would have been lucky to have enough of his fingers for Madam Pomfrey to fix, and Severus Snape probably would have been crowned the world's worst godfather (after Sirius Black).
This was not the most exceptional thing to occur that day however, and certainly not the most memorable. That accolade was reserved for the moment that Harry Potter, the last to exit the classroom and having made it several paces down the corridor on the heels of Ron and Hermione, heard Severus Snape…bat of the dungeons…start to sing.
He fell over in shock.
It wasn't particularly loud, and it wouldn't have been particularly noteworthy if it was anyone but Snape…
But it was Snape.
Singing.
Unbothered by his best friend who was sprawled across the floor in a daze, Ron was frozen in place.
He quickly determined that either hell had frozen over, or Snape was plotting to kill someone.
Probably Harry.
Hermione looked as frightened as he felt, and they helped Harry up off the floor and made a hasty escape to lunch in terrified, confused silence.
—
It didn't happen overnight.
But slowly, Severus Snape started to heal.
By all accounts, he was still a bit of a git.
But he tended to be less prone to irrationality, ruled now by logic rather than a bitter temper.
Occasionally, he was even sort of funny, and Harry Potter was quite disturbed to realise they had a similar, sarcastic sort of humour.
In the year of 1995-1996, Potions was even something of a favourite class. (Mainly because it was generally understood that if you wanted to insult Umbridge and receive sly advice on how to do it better, that was where to do it).
—
On May 2, 1998, Severus Snape died a better man.
And when he opened his eyes, emerald green eyes were finally accompanied by red hair.
He paused, drinking in the first sight of his old friend in many years.
'I-', his voice broke and he realised his cheeks were wet. 'I'm so sorry.'
She smiled.