During the last remaining month of summer, Severus studied his mother's old school books. He finally admitted to his mother why he had been locked secretly in his bedroom for so many days at a time.
"Why is it that you have a book about the so called Dark Arts?" Severus asked. He sat for more than two minutes, intently waiting for his mother's answer. She took her time with thought before she replied.
"Sometimes, in order to have a full knowledge of the ways of the world, one must study the views opposing ones own to have an advantage. The book you have been reading behind my back is full of dark magic, dark secrets, and things no eleven year old should be reading."
"But why, mother? Who gave you this book?"
"My father did. He always had a fascination for these arts, and he told me what I am telling you now, except I was of age, and I knew the difference between what is right and what is wrong. The things inside that book can turn a person's soul so black that seeing anything else other than their own selfish needs would be impossible. You are too young to understand." But Severus was not too young to understand, and he ran to his room, locked himself in against his mother's wishes, and began to look at the book with a whole new light. The things that were in this book, not normal wizards knew. This….this information was different, he could be the only person in the school with the knowledge in this book. Surely people would be running to know him, to be his friend with the knowledge he possessed. Severus had never had a friend. He had barely had contact outside his mother and father. How he longed to be free of this house, to laugh like a normal person…a normal wizard. Oh, and he would. Hogwarts had no idea what was coming to them.
Severus awoke with a start, his pajamas soaked in sweat. He felt gross, breathing heavily in the inky blackness of the Slytherin dormitory. His fellow fourth year Slytherins were sleeping soundly around him. He quietly got up and walked down to the common room. It was empty; the fire that had burnt brightly so many hours ago was nothing more than smoldering ash. Severus liked this time of the night; he was used to being alone for so many years, and now it seemed as if he was never alone. He lowered himself down in one of the soft chairs, right across from a mirror. Severus was tall and lanky. He had his father's long hooked nose, and what appeared to be eyes as black as his long, stringy hair. Severus's favorite part of his appearance- the only part that was mildly decent- were his eyes. Around his pupils there were flecks of a lighter brown color, but it was difficult to see unless very close. And, since no one had bothered to be close to him, no one really knew that his eyes were anything but charcoal black. He sighed as he glanced at his sullen appearance and brought his hand to his face to wipe off the excess perspiration. As if his skin didn't give him enough problems already. It was always so greasy, no matter how many times Severus washed his hair or his face, it was always disgusting by the end of the day. Apparently, to some students at Hogwarts, this was enough to condemn Severus to a life of torture. And so it had been, from the moment he had walked into potions the first day of class. He remembered it clearly, that stupid Potter with the smirk on his face and that damned Sirius Black, always playing the fool. Severus sneered as he turned his mind around the numerous things he'd been called.
James Potter and Sirius Black were two Gryffindor students who had pledged themselves to making Severus's life a living hell. And they did. Every single day it was a battle for Severus not to break out every curse he knew on them. When he'd just started Hogwarts, Severus had just taken everything thrown at him. He hadn't fought back, hadn't known who to blame. At first he thought that he'd just deserved it. Yes, he'd had it coming to him, all this torture. He did, after all, have a muggle for a father, and a mother who was so caught up in her own sorrows that she'd ignored him for most of his later childhood. But after months and months of strange things turning up in his cauldron in potions he knew he didn't put in there, and bad potion grades because of it, it had been too much. Too long had he had spells pointed at him behind his back while he was walking in the corridors between classes. He'd been tripped, poked, verbally abused, and everything else. Surely this was enough punishment for his poor upbringing? Would it ever stop? And so, one day, as a second year, when Potter had leaned over in potions to stick some foreign object into his softly simmering creation, Severus had seen him coming. Wand in hand, he muttered an incantation that made Potter's body freeze, his eyes wide in surprise. If it had been any other teacher, Severus probably would have had detention for a week, but since it was professor Slughorn, head of Slytherin house, he merely got a disapproving glance. Potter was up in no time, a scowl across his usually smiling, arrogant face. Since that time, Potter and Black, along with their groupies Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew, had been Severus's bitterest of enemies. But, where Severus foul enemies, he also had some very appealing allies.
Lucius Malfoy, a seventh year Slytherin, had the same views as Severus on many things. He hated muggles, and he was proud to be from a pure blood family. Of course, Severus wasn't pure blood, but did Malfoy need to know? And he had such a group surrounding him all the time. He was James Potter's exact opposite. Malfoy taught Severus everything he knew about wizarding culture. Through Malfoy, Severus was able to meet people from every year at Hogwarts, including two imbeciles named Crabbe and Goyle, Regulus Black, brother of the infamous Sirius, Bellatrix Black, his cousin, and her sister, the lovely Narcissa Black. Severus's heart leapt at the though of her. She was tall and blonde, the most gorgeous person Severus had ever laid eyes on. Narcissa Black was poster child for all things beautiful and pure. But, as Severus had found out long ago, she was Malfoy's girl. If he were to ever find out the feelings Severus held deep in his heart, he was sure that Malfoy would kill him without a second thought. Literally, he would use the killing curse to make sure that Severus never took another breath. Therefore Severus kept his emotion locked inside himself. Feelings were not an option for him. He would be cold, stay cold, and never, ever, let anyone know what he was thinking.
The room was pitch black now, and Severus guessed the time was around 3:30. It was January 9th, his birthday. He was completely sure that he'd get no presents, just like every year, but if he was lucky, maybe Potter would spare him the torment. He was like an annoying fly that would never go away. Severus sighed and decided that he should try to go back to sleep. He snuck back up into his dormitory. Fifteen years old. Two more years and he'd be of age. It was a glorious thought- to be able to use magic outside of school, to be able to apparate and dissapparate instead of using that cursed floo powder, or worse, riding a broom. Flying was not exactly Severus specialty, as he'd learned all too soon in his first flying lesson. The minute he'd kicked off the ground, instead of hovering like all the other students, his broom had wobbled back and forth before he'd fallen down. Wild laughter had ensued at his expense, and he'd wanted to cry right there. But eleven year olds don't cry. And so, with a scowl on his face, he'd gotten up, spat some stupid excuse about losing his balance, and glared at the girl next to him who was still laughing. After flying lessons had ended, he'd never had a desire to pick up another broom again. This was all for the better as he didn't find the sport of Quidditch particularly breathtaking, although the rest of the school seemed to be completely absorbed with it. He put up with it because Malfoy was on the house team, but he always snuck books into the matches to keep himself occupied. Truth be told, Severus was a loner. Yes, he had allies, acquaintances. But he did not have a true friend. He kept to himself most of the time, and if anyone tried to say something, it was probably an insult, so he sneered, frowned, or ignored the "attacker." This was, in Severus's opinion, the best way to live.
Severus slid under his covers and tried to fall back asleep. But, through all the random thoughts he'd been thinking tonight, one stuck out above all the rest- Narcissa. Wracked with guilt, he turned over and stared across the room. Sweet Narcissa. He closed his eyes and attempted sleep again, thoughts of her lips dancing across his skin the only happy thought in a barrel of dismal memories.
When dawn finally emerged, Severus woke up, showered, and made his way down to the Great Hall alone. He took a seat at the long Slytherin table and began to eat porridge. Around him everyone was chatting about the morning's classes, or about the fresh snow that had fallen that night. No one came to wish him a happy birthday, not that he expected it. He doubted anyone knew it was his birthday anyway. He ate silently, peacefully, uninterrupted. He heard Malfoy and the rest of the lot come and sit somewhere around him, but they didn't really talk to him unless he made the first motion. He knew that he could talk to them if he wanted to, but the conversation would merely consist of how much the group as a whole hated mudbloods, and how they wished there was something they could do about their infestation of a fine school like Hogwarts. While all that talk was exciting to Severus, sometimes it was just best to keep quiet and observe. He could hear the mindless chatter of younger Slytherins and decided it was best to listen to Malfoy's conversation.
"-and then I snuck out after dark to make sure my plan was carried out. Of course that stupid mudblood Montrean followed my plan exactly, and now he's in detention for a month!" The group laughed loudly as though it was the funniest, most original thing they'd ever heard. The problem for Severus was, however, that he pulled the same stunt on unsuspecting second and third years at least twice a month. It was funny the first time, even the second and third time, but then it just got boring. But who would suspect Malfoy of such ill behavior? He was, afterall, a prefect, and his family was well respected in the wizard community. His father had some high ranking job at the ministry, and Lucius Malfoy was practically royalty. Good blood, all the money that he could ever desire. That's what Severus wished desperately he had. Perhaps these were poor reasons to idolize someone, but Severus was desperate for a social life. He heard bits and pieces of the rest of the conversation, but his eyes wandered toward the door. There they were, Potter, Black, Lupin, and Pettigrew, laughing and talking, probably recalling the prank they'd pulled on an unsuspecting Slytherin second year. Or, perhaps, talking about the prank they'd pulled on Severus yesterday. Whatever it was, they seemed to be having a good time. Not far behind them was Lily Evans and her group of Gryffindor girls. Lily was a mudblood, and everyone knew that James fancied her, but Lily was somewhat of a soft spot for Severus. He had vowed to hate all muggle borns from the minute his father had given him a black eye, but Lily seemed to be different. He would never break face infront of any breathing creature, and he certainly didn't think her half the woman that Narcissa was…..but she was very beautiful with her sleek red hair and her emerald eyes. And, to seal the deal, she had an infamous loathing of the boy who pined for her. Oh, she hated James Potter, and every time Severus witnessed an exchange between them, his heart swelled with happiness. Yes, yes, let him suffer for being the greatest prat Britain has ever known.
Breaking his thoughts was the owl post, swooping down over the table dropping letters and packages. Severus waited for the owl with his birthday card from his mother. When it did not come, he sighed and decided that perhaps he actually was invisible. He got up from the table and sulked out of the Great hall. He saw his group of friends in front of him, and he walked a bit quicker to join up with them. They were talking in hushed voices.
"Father says that something big is going to be happening in a few months. The ministry is trying to keep all the deaths quiet, but it isn't going to last very much longer. There's been three deliberate attacks on muggles lately, and two on mudblood families. It's for the better, I think, and I support who ever is doing it," Malfoy was saying.
"They don't know who is doing it?" asked Bellatrix Black incredulously.
"No, but whoever it is, it's pretty bad news for his victims. I've heard he leaves a great mark in the sky when he's killed. I'll be he's looking for followers. All of the most powerful dark wizards in history had a posse to help with the dirty work. And I'm not exactly sure it would be such a bad thing to rid the world of the plague of mudbloods. I hope whoever it is comes here next."
"I'd join him," Severus said simply. Malfoy looked back, obviously not realizing Severus was among them.
"That kind of attitude would make Salazar Slytherin proud, Snape. And besides, what have we got to lose, we're not mudbloods or muggles. As soon as I leave this place, I'm going to research everything I can about this…this Dark Lord." They were at their common room now to gather their books to go to class. Severus had double herbology first with the Gryffindors. Before he parted with the group, he heard Malfoy say, "Dark times are coming. I can't wait."
Severus made his way down to the green houses. Snow frosted the ground and the trees around him, and everything sparkled in the pale sunlight. His breath hung in the air as he trudged down the deep frozen path. Suddenly, he felt his bag rip, and his quills, parchments, ink, and books spilled out all over the ground.
"Ohhh, rotten luck there, Snivellus," a familiar voice sounded from behind him.
"Late again? Oh dear me, Mr. Snape, 50 points from Slytherin!" a voice mocking Professor Sprout rang out. And there they were.
"Your hair! Look how shiny it is in the brilliant morning sun. Gee, that's even a new low for you, isn't it? It curls under all by itself, just like a woman." Severus turned to face Sirius Black and James Potter. He grabbed hold to the front of James's robes and brought him inches from his own face.
"Do you know, Potter, that with every inch of my being, with every breath of life I breathe, I straight hate you. And someday, you will pay for your insolence." He let James go and began to pick up his belongings.
"Shit, Snivelly, what the hell did you have for breakfast, Garlic and Vinegar?" The two walked away laughing. Severus finished picking up his belongings and walked briskly to the greenhouses, knowing already that he was indeed late, and that it would cost Slytherin points. As he was closing in on the green house he spotted a tawney owl coming toward him.
"Late, mother. You're late," he whispered to himself as the owl flew to him, perched himself on Severus's arm, and stuck out his leg. There wasn't a card, however, but a poorly folded letter tied to the owl's leg. He took it as the owl nipped at his finger. He opened it and began to read, but he found his eyes stuck on the first line. Happy birthday, indeed.