Chapter 4: Cursed Eyes
He stopped before the familiar door and took a moment to compose himself, sucking in a deep breath to calm his churning mind. This time he would catch the little bastard in the act. Mentally steeling his resolve he wrenched the door open before marching into the Potions classroom, a familiar sneer plastered on his face as he took in the students. His eyes roamed over the various Slytherins and Gryffindors before settling on the one person that seemed to catch his attention every time. He felt rage bubbling in him and quickly reinforced his Occlumency to smoothen his face.
That accursed boy did not deserve to have those eyes. He was like his past made into flesh, arriving at Hogwarts simply to haunt him. The son of Potter, looking like Black yet wearing those cursed eyes that had last looked at him with sorrow and disappointment. Lily's eyes. Severus Snape clenched his fists and averted his gaze, why did the boy have to end up in his House of all places. He had almost choked on his pumpkin juice when the hat had called out Slytherin. At first he was certain he was merely hearing things, yet the oppressive silence of the Great Hall had convinced him otherwise. He had watched with trepidation as the arrogant boy sauntered over to his house. His table. He had desperately hoped it was a terrible nightmare, yet when he handed out the schedules the next day, those very same green eyes met his without flinching.
Rarely had he felt as frustrated as he had been with the boy. He wished he could remove house points from him to teach him a lesson, yet it went against all his principles to remove them from Slytherin. His house got enough discrimination as it was, he would never add to that. His jabs and demeaning comments had seemingly slipped off the boy's back like drops of water over a weather displacement ward. All he got in return was infuriating politeness and what looked like an identical copy of Black's smirk. Like his entire presence was mere entertainment.
He desperately wanted to send to boy to detention for the rest of the year to teach him some manners, but Albus had adamantly forbidden it. His incessant jabbering about not punishing the boy without cause and ample proof proved to be a constant headache. Apparently something had happened during the meeting between the old man and the boy, something that had deeply shaken the aged Headmaster. Snape mentally snorted at that, no doubt Albus had been shocked to realize the boy was a practical copy of his pathetic father. He really shouldn't have been surprised that Albus would coddle the boy, he had given his father and his friends never-ending special treatment, that he would continue the tradition was expected.
Looking back at Potter he had to suppress a snarl. The boy was actually smirking at him. As if he knew exactly what he was thinking about. Absurd, he knew why the boy was smirking. He was arrogant just like his father, thinking the world owed him something. The Potter ego was after all legendary, something he could personally attest to. No surprise the son was exactly like his father. He was surprised he hadn't gotten any reports of Potter harassing other students, only a matter of time he assumed.
He flicked his wand at the board, displaying the recipe for the Draught of Peace.
"The instructions are on the board, get to work."
His black eyes watched them scurry for the ingredients. Some were nervous and skittish under his eyes, others cool and calm. Potter was utterly relaxed as usual, preferring to stare at him like he did during every class. That damnable smirk still on his face while Lily's eyes bore into his. Arrogant boy. Yet to Snape's surprise he seemed to brew all potions before the rest of the class every single time. He was convinced the boy was cheating, it was something he expected from the spawn of Potter. He refused to believe he could have inherited any of brewing talent Lily possessed. There was far too much Potter and Black in him.
"What are you waiting for Potter, get to work!"
His damnable grin seemed to widen a bit before he bowed his head, the entire action seeming mocking in its politeness.
"Of course Professor."
Potter stepped over to the cabinet and picked his ingredients without any hesitation, not even bothering to glance at the recipe written on the board. All other students would double-check that they made no mistakes, but not him. His arrogance truly knew no bounds.
Albus wanted him to keep a sharp eye out for that boy. He couldn't understand why, whatever meager talent he might have displayed in his other classes meant little to him. He was just a copy of his narcissistic father. He was oh so tempted to use Legilimency on the boy, but Albus had warned him that he possessed very strong shields. Snape snorted at the thought. Potter being that talented in the incredibly difficult art of Occlumency was laughable. More than likely that Albus used his usual featherlight probe and the boy's flimsy shields managed to deflect it. He always had a soft spot for the boy, it was hardly unexpected that he would embellish his talents.
The staff meetings had turned to a nightmare with the addition of Potter's spawn. All his colleagues ever seemed to want to talk about was the so called 'prodigious talent' of the boy. He mentally scoffed, how typical of a Potter to brag about his lackluster achievements, no doubt exaggerating his skill.
He stared with dismay as Potter deftly diced his ingredients and started the potion, already passing by the other students who had fetched their ingredients before him. How? Only someone with years of experience in the art of brewing could simply skip stages and speed up the potion to that degree. Not to mention the natural talent it would require. No Potter had ever been talented at Potions, that was his forte, his specialty. James Potter's smirking face flashed through his mind as the bastard told him he would be marrying Lily. His damn spawn was trying to upstage him even now. In his class, doing his art. Foul, filthy cheater.
"I will find out how you are cheating and I will have you expelled."
The boy looked up from his potion, still wearing that small amused grin, like the entire situation was simply a grand joke to him.
"Who are you talking to Professor?"
He snarled.
"You know who I am talking to, it is not possible for someone who hasn't even sat his OWLs to skip the dicing of the Chinese Chomping Cabbage simply by increasing the acidity of the potion. That requires years of experience."
"Oh. Well I never even considered that, I simply mixed things together as I thought they would fit."
The voice sounded teasingly innocent, yet the humor in Lily's eyes shone light on his true intentions. He was mocking him. Mocking his art. Potter paused for a bit before raising his eyebrows.
"After all it's not like Potions is that difficult, it kind of reminds me of muggle cooking to be honest. I'll have you know I'm quite the talented chef."
Snape felt his rage bubble underneath his Occlumency, this little shit dared to insult his profession. The smirk on his face told him exactly what he needed to know, he was deliberately goading him. The realization barely smoothed his anger and he let a little vicious grin spread on his own face. Two could play that game.
"Ah, it's a shame you spent so much time gallivanting with the muggles."
He quirked an eyebrow at the comment and Snape gladly elaborated.
"You might have been able to save your godfather if you had chosen to attend school like everyone else."
He ignored the gasps of the other students while studying Potter. His face still held amusement but he saw something pass through his eyes, which was all the confirmation Snape needed about his comment getting to him. A small sense of glee erupted in his chest, taking vengeance on Potter through his spawn was rather enjoyable.
"It was only a few hundred meters from here that he died. Poor Sirius Black, having finally caught and killed Peter Pettigrew, only to be swarmed by hundreds of Dementors. He never even got to see his darling godson, having spent over a decade in prison while being wholly innocent of all crimes."
He practically purred out the last sentence.
Snape remembered the scandal that had followed when they found Pettigrew's body, Sirius Black was cleared of all crimes and the Daily Prophet had a field day insulting the Ministry when his lack of trial came to light. It was also a night where he drunk himself into a stupor, two of his childhood demons dead, it was definitively an occasion to celebrate. Of course Albus hadn't been too pleased when it came to light that he had been the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot during Black's incarceration. The press really had a bone to pick with the old man.
Studying Potter he was disappointed to see how cool the boy still seemed. Not a twitch on his face showed that he had been affected by the words. Perhaps the boy did have some meager talent in Occlumency after all. Although it was likely that it was just his callous arrogance that let him ignore the demise of someone so close to his family. Just like his father would pretend that his bullying was just a series of 'pranks'.
"That was a fascinating story Professor."
He grit his teeth at the demeaning tone of his voice. It was degrading, it sounded like an adult placating a child. What was even more aggravating was that Potter had not paused from his potion-making at all, doing it with casual ease while keeping his eyes mostly locked on him. He was even playing with the ingredients in his hands, lobbing them back and forth like he was simply cooking an elaborate stew. The color of the potion indicated that it was correctly made as well, almost nearing completion. He bit his tongue to keep from shouting at the blatant cheating. Looking at the spectators their little argument had attracted he snarled.
"Why are you staring at me, get back to work!"
The other students hurriedly complied with his order while Potter just looked at him, the corner of his mouth still curved in a small smirk. A challenging light came into his eyes as he spoke.
"But of course Professor Sniv-, Snape."
He felt the blood drain from his face as he heard the words. Potter's correction was fast enough that no one else paid attention to it, but Snape had no doubts about what he said. Rage quickly overcame his shock as he looked at Potter's smirking face, that had been no accident, he had said it on purpose. The cursed bastard knew! He did not know how, but he knew about his Hogwarts years! Snivellus. That hated word his father used to taunt him with.
Staring into Lily's eyes he let his fury bubble over. Unlike Albus he had no intention of being gentle or careful here. His rage formed into a mental probe, years of practice honed it into a sharp long lance. He felt a twinge of protest in his magic, no doubt that damnable life-debt acting up again. He ignored it with practiced ease, this wouldn't kill the boy, perhaps merely cripple him a bit. Teach him some humility. His emotion and magic fueled the probe as he sent it towards those haunting emerald eyes. Even seasoned Aurors would buckle under such an assault, there was no finesse here, only brute force. Raw hatred and magic. He knew it would cause the boy untold amounts of pain as it scrambled his mind, the knowledge only serving to bring him delighted pleasure.
His brief moment of triumph shattered like a dropped mirror. Sheer and utter agony overtook his senses, crushing suffocating pain engulfed his mind as his probe smashed against Potter's shields like a drop of rain against the castle walls. He had time to experience a second of disbelief before he fell to his knees, a searing pain spreading through his head. He squeezed his temples in desperation as it felt like a molten bar of lead had been shoved into his mind, burning and squeezing at the same time. It felt like pure fire had engulfed his head, twisting and tearing at his very being. His eyes rolled in his sockets and he couldn't even focus on his surroundings as he violently retched over the floor, dirtying his hands and robes in sick. His sense of balance seemed gone, his arms couldn't support his weight. He heard a soft squishing sound and briefly realized that it was the sound of him collapsing into a pool of his own vomit.
The last thing he saw, before blessed darkness claimed him, was Potter staring right into his eyes, the small grin having been replaced by a vicious smirk.