Chapter 6: The Malign House
The Seventh floor corridor was mercifully empty. Snape had his misgivings passing so close to the lion's den on the way to this relatively abandoned classroom but thankfully his worries were unfounded.
This was his first class in Alchemy and he was only five minutes early, despite that no other students were milling about the door. The hall stood deserted, almost worryingly so. Snape reasoned to himself that it was a class with a long distance educator, so perhaps the students were already inside.
With a smart rap of his knuckles against the door, Snape let himself in. He knocked not because he expected any answer to invite him in but more for politeness sake.
An empty classroom met his eyes and with a thrill of worry the would-be-student thought he might have actually arrived at the wrong room. That worry was brief as his eyes fell upon the setup of a large newly shined mirror facing a round rune-inscribed table.
Only one rune-inscribed table.
Snape approached the alchemy desk, staring at it in disbelief. The classroom was set for only one student. Dumbledore had authorised Alchemy to be taught, on short notice, for the benefit of only one student? The Board of Governors were going to have a lark.
With a scowl and a grumble about irresponsible management of school resources, Snape seated himself. Immediately he recognised that the table was not to be a writing desk. It was round and completely covered from edge to edge in etched inscriptions that dimpled his parchment.
Running his hands along the inscriptions carved along the outer ridge he noted the golden panes set along the edge. He tapped his wand on the material casting spell of analysis. Ninety percent gold, nine percent copper, one percent other strengthening elements.
With a sharp intake of breath he took a step back, this lesson was already shaping up to be more extravagant than everything he's ever owned.
Dragging a desk and chair over next to the alchemy table, Snape sat in front of the mirror and scowled heavily into it. He ordinarily looked dreadful but somehow the slight lack of sleep had rendered his deepest eyes into dark hollow pits. Coupled with his stringy hair and thin stretched features he looked like an eyeless skull with a comical nose. This is why he hated mirrors.
Concentrating on anything else other than his reflection, he set out his quill and parchment neatly. Carefully he pulled out a textbook on the Basic Principles of Alchemy and sat it in front of him, opened to the chapter he had marked with a scrap of parchment. He borrowed the tome out of the restricted section with Dumbledore's written blessing and had not set it down since. The hours were precious when he studied on borrowed time.
He had read through the first three chapters during the free periods leading up to class, but due to the nature of the beast he found himself slogging through it slowly. The reason of his consternation was the concept of transmutation. A true and permanent transfiguration.
He had been an expert in potioneering and understood antidote crafting like second nature. The principle used for that craft had its roots anchored deeply in the concept of transmutation. That small dip into alchemy had been in regards to adding one key ingredient that unravelled a tangle of poisons. There had been none of these 'Focus Stones' or 'Memory Imprint' nonsense that this book threw about. It was as if there was expected alchemical knowledge for even those who ventured into the introductory chapter of a book entitled 'Basic Principles of Alchemy.'
"Studying hard already I see." A deep voice with a hint of a French accent jolted him out of his ministrations.
Snape tried his best not to scowl when he lifted his eyes to the mirror but he wasn't succeeding. It was simply his default reaction to facing towards a reflective surface.
An old wizard sat before him in what looked like a lounge chair. He was garbed in several layers of robes of an elaborate cut. Runes inscribed down the seams of his sleeves not unlike that of the alchemy table. His beard and hair still held wisps of auburn in its silver mane and his face was lined but not to the point of devolving into a mass of wrinkles. By all regards he appeared to be a man on the declining years of middle-aged, but his eyes told a different story. A light amber brown that seemed almost honey golden, his eyes shone from his aged face both youthful and ancient, and somehow timeless.
"Student. What is your name?" The old alchemist prompted in a deep but quiet voice.
"Severus Snape." Snape answered. A student in true to the new concept of alchemy.
A gentle smile graced the alchemist's features. "A pleasure to meet you Mr Snape. My name is Nicolas Flamel."
Snape started. "The inventor of the Philosopher's Stone?!" He hadn't meant to put so much surprise into his exclamation. He was certain Dumbledore was going to solicit the services of a well-established name in the field but to nominate the champion of the craft?
And for just one student?
Flamel's golden eyes twinkled. "Alas, so many achievements in the field and yet my earliest creation remains my call to fame." To refer to the key to immortality as merely an 'earliest creation'… "So is that the reason why you chose to pursue this craft? The Philosopher's Stone?" The twinkle in Flamel's eye disappeared.
Once upon a time Snape might have salivated at the notion of securing the stone for himself. A stone that could guarantee the holder fame, wealth and immortality. A stone that would be his with a simple application of his sharp mind and studious nature. A stone that was withheld to him by the inability to afford an education in the craft.
Snape lowered his eyes. "No."
Those days were behind him. Wealth and fame meant nothing to a man who cared not for his future. Immortality especially, was something he wished for never again.
"I simply want something challenging to learn."
After a moment's silence Flamel smiled and straightened in his seat. "Albus had told me the student I was getting would be an interesting one. Too brilliant a mind for the classes he was taking, potential wasted on the mundane, he said." He leaned forward onto his elbows, clasping his hands together and resting his chin upon them. "Well then what is your ability in Transfigurations?"
Snape could not help the sheepishness. "Not… the best." His practical knowledge was well practiced, but his theory was rusty beyond measure. He had given his Transfiguration textbook a quick glance through since his awakening but never focused on any details in depth. "I don't satisfy the O requirement in OWLS."
With a patient smile, Flamel shook his head. "I have no notion what that means young student. I was educated at Beauxbatons more than a few centuries ago. I don't believe we operated on the same scoring charts."
"It means I'm under qualified for Alchemy through my Transfigurations." Snape confessed, galled by the need to voice his deficiency so clearly.
Not off put by this admission, Flamel continued. "Well then. What about your Potioneering?"
Snape couldn't help the slight smugness in his voice. "More than adequate."
"Quick then. Golpalott's Third Law?"
"The antidote to a blended poisons is to add one key ingredient that transforms the concoction near-alchemically into a substance that counteracts the poison." Snape recounted from his years of delivering that very lesson. "Sum of the parts is greater than the whole."
"Spagyric theories?"
"Plant alchemy. The first theory was posed by Chinese alchemists in the second century that all medicine was three parts poison and one part cure. This formed the idea of hidden properties within ingredients and became the building blocks for Golpalott's Third Law. The second-"
"I'm convinced of your potioneering knowledge." Flamel conceded with a nod. "But if I were to ask you about the Limitations of Transfiguration?"
That was simple first year theory. It hadn't left him yet. "There are five principle exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration. The first is that food cannot be conjured. The second governs the impossibility of the transmutation of true life-"
Flamel interrupted. "What about in terms of potion craft?"
"Then you want Gamp's third exception which is a transfigured element cannot take the place of the element of which it is mimicking. This is why you cannot transfigure potions ingredients. It is also why bread cannot be transfigured from a stone-"
"Ronin's Laws of Microtransfiguration?"
Snape could not help but feel abashed. "Nothing."
With a stroke of his beard Flamel appeared thoughtful. "Well we have identified which direction we should take upon your education in this field. I will, however, advise you to revise your Transfigurations. A grasp on those theories is a must for any alchemist."
Snape lowered his eyes. "I understand." He muttered.
"One last question, Mr Snape. Do you believe it possible to overcome these limitations?"
The answer would be no, but somehow Snape did not believe that's the answer Flamel was looking for. "Not with Transfiguration." Was his carefully constructed answer. "Nor Potioneering."
A smile touched the old wizard's lips. "Indeed Mr Snape, and that is what alchemy is about. Overcoming the limitations of Transfiguration and Potioneering through a combination of their parts. In essence the same principles that Golpalott had once stated. The sum of the parts are greater than the whole."
Snape frowned. "So are you telling me that it's possible to create bread from a stone?"
A wry smile touched upon Flamel's ancient but youthful face. "I find it curious you ask about something so small, when there is before you proof that greater miracles are possible."
With the summer heat quickly fading away along with the season itself, Lily was desperately chasing the last wisp of the sunshine. Despite her imminent and crushing workload, she could not will herself away from the temptation of an afternoon by the lake, her favourite location on school grounds. With winter marching ever closer, warm sunny afternoons by the lake would soon become only a daydream under blankets by the fire.
Marlene had conceded to be her company for the afternoon. The tall Gryffindor Chaser lay sprawled out on the hill rolling down towards the lake's edge, golden hair spilling loose about the grass. An active girl with a wild tom-boyish beauty about her, Marlene was not one for feminine graces.
Lily sat closer to the water's edge, she had planned on dipping her toes in but a sudden chill in the wind had changed her plans. Now she was content to simply watch the glisten of the lake as the dry winds trailed coolness pleasantly across her skin.
Beside her, under the weight of a textbook and three scrolls of writing sat her third roommate Pandora McGonagall, niece of their stern Transfigurations professor. Last names were honestly where much of where their similarities ended. Where Professor McGonagall was methodical and no-nonsense, Pandora was airy and abstract. The trait the two McGonagalls did share was their apparent insatiable pursuit of knowledge, and a tendency to bring homework wherever they went.
"…With Ronin's Second Law of Microtransfiguration clearly states the molecular properties of the transfigured matter will always remain untransformed from the original. So no matter how lifelike a mouse transfigured from a goblet might be it will still be an inanimate object, just animated."
Lily rubbed her temples as Pandora scrutinised her scrolls, each containing a draft of her essay. She decided the best use of a sunny day by the lake was to conduct an in-depth discussion on homework already completed. "Please. I've just finished writing that paper. Can we just leave that in the past?"
The young McGonagall fixed her large green eyes on Lily, a shade closer to aqua than Lily's bright green. "But that essay is due tomorrow. It's hardly in the past."
"Oh crap!" Marlene scrambled upwards. "It's due tomorrow?!"
Lily groaned, "Marlene…" as her friend leapt to her feet, panic in her eyes.
"Pandy. Babe. Please. You gotta help me!" She grasped for one of Pandora's drafts.
Lily knew the studious girl wouldn't refuse. "Umm sure. Take this one." Pandora handed over the scroll she had curled in her lap. Unlike her elder counterpart, the young McGonagall did not have an aversion to homework sharing, the thought of which would no doubt curls her aunt's toes. "Didn't have enough on the Paradigm of Molak's Simulated Motion Postulates in relation to Gamp's Laws of Elemental Transfiguration. However it does have a good part on Elpat's Laws on Restrictive Similarities-"
"Sounds awesome! You're a peach!" The hopeless student exclaimed happily, clasping onto her scroll like a lifeline.
Lily hated to burst her bubble but- "You know Professor McGonagall isn't going to believe one whit that you wrote that." Marlene's face fell so quickly it was a wonder how her jaw didn't get whiplash.
"Aunt Minnie does tend to notice these things." Pandora agreed.
"Why not rewrite using the draft points instead?" Lily suggested sensibly.
Marlene groaned. "But… the effort…" Honestly a lazier Gryffindor there has never been. Well no that was an exaggeration. There was still Potter, and Black, and the Prewett Twins, insofar everyone on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. A worryingly common theme.
"I know you're planning on playing Quidditch after graduating, but don't you think you should perhaps have a passable academic record? You know. Just in case?"
Marlene rolled her eyes. "Yeesh Lily. What are you my mum?"
"Actually I think she sounds more like Aunt Minnie than Mrs McKinnon." Pandora observed. She was right, Marlene's mother was far more likely to conspire with her daughter to find a Chizpurfle to pin the eating of homework on. Lily had met the McKinnons last summer when Lily was invited over to the McKinnon household and a more similar mother-daughter combo there had never been.
Lily had been in a bad ways emotionally during that time, she lacked a best friend right when she needed one most, what with her mother's sudden passing. It was a tense few days with her father, especially when Petunia returned from London to attend the funeral. So when Marlene extended that invitation Lily leapt for a chance a visit to the magical world again, to escape from the spat-filled sobriety of her mourning muggle household. As for the vacant position of best friend, well Marlene slipped into that role seamlessly.
"C'mon Lil's. How much do you love me?" Her new best friend begged, holding out the scroll she scored off Pandora.
Lily rolled her eyes. A lot but- "Not that much."
"But you're so much smarter than me! I'll never get it done in time!" Even with Pandora's expertly crafted draft, the hapless girl would struggle to complete her scribe. It wasn't that Marlene was stupid, Lily knew she had a brilliant problem-solving mind, especially when faced with Quidditch tactics. She honestly was just easily distracted, and for a lack of a better word, just plain lazy.
"Okay okay. How 'bout this. You help me write up my essay. And I will stay back and help you finish up your Care of Magical Creatures practical load next time Lupin can't be arsed turning up."
"You already do that though." Lily mumbled. Marlene had indeed stayed back with her class-partner and fellow roommate Susan O'Doyle the day before to help Lily finish composting her non-magical Mooncalf dung. "And Lupin gets sick. He can't help it." Care of Magical Creatures is one of the only times the Marauders got separated. This was mostly because on day one Lily had bullied Lupin into partnering with her. Her best friend at the time had refused to take this class and Marlene had agreed to partner with Susan before Lily had even submitted her class attendance form. Poor little Peter had to make do with Maxly, a Ravenclaw boy who honestly had just as little affinity for that subject as Lily had. Needless to say, neither he nor Peter were going on to NEWTs.
"Okay fine." Lily conceded with an air of exasperation. Marlene was always there to help her after all but Lily couldn't help but feel homework was a whole other kettle of fish. "I'll write it up for you but this is the last time. Honestly Marlene you've got to take your work seriously now. We're in sixth year, and Pandora and I won't always have the time to pull you out of the fire."
"Thank you so much, Lily. Love you!" Evidently the only part Marlene heard was the first part.
Lily silently hoped her best friend will get her act together. Prefect duties on top of preexisting workloads was already beginning to crush the usually quite competent girl, she didn't need more work on top of her pile. Why did she have to pick a best friend that added to her pressure? Why can't Marlene be more studious and self-reliant? Why couldn't she be more like-?
No. Lily shook her head. Marlene did not stand to be improved by being more like him. Nobody was improved by being more like him…
That stupid, angry, easily brainwashed idiot…
"I mean it Marlene. This is the last time." Lily told her sternly with a sigh, made more irritable by the unkind comparison of her best friend with that of a friend who is no more. "I already have Flitwick breathing down my neck and piling me with extra work. I honestly don't think I can keep yours on top of it."
Marlene looked appropriately abashed. "I'm sorry. Last time I promise." Then frowned. "Why's Flitwick got you down? Thought he liked you? All the teachers like you."
"He's being extra strict on me." Lily muttered. "Told me I won't pass if I can't cast a spell wandlessly and wordlessly by the end of the year."
"What, but that's crazy talk!" Marlene exclaimed. "Most people can't even cast wordlessly, let alone wandlessly!"
"But Lily can do both." Pandora supplied helpfully.
"Just not together." Lily conceded. Casting just came naturally to her, it felt odd to watch how others struggled.
"And that's not enough?" Marlene looked aghast. "Honestly I never took Flitwick for such a hard-arse."
Lily nodded. "Dorcas thinks that it's how he shows favouritism. By pushing hard."
"I'm glad he didn't think much of me then." Marlene grumbled.
"What is the issue you're not overcoming in wandless, wordless casting then?" As usual Pandora cuts straight to the technical aspect of the situation, flying completely over any human ones.
Lily picked up a round pebble and laid it on her palm. She waved her right hand over it and muttered "Wingardium Leviosa." It floated easily from her palm and hovered gently. She snatched it and passed her hand over the stone again, this time focusing on forcing the magic through wordlessly. She could feel her magic escaping her grasp and knew she had failed before she had even finished her hand pass. The stone sat still upon her palm, mocking her.
"Casting wandlessly is like trying to juggle. You have to control many elements of a spell at once without the use of a focus." She produced her wand, then with a flick that stone immediately lifted from her palm without a second's hesitation. "Wordless casting is like trying to put more force into an action done more easily another way. Like pushing a tome across the table with your tongue." She caught the stone once again, rolling it around between her fingers. "So doing both at once is trying to force a spell forward while controlling its many flailing elements… kind of like…." She struggled for an example to describe it with.
"Trying to pour jelly through a sieve while convincing it to retain its shape." Pandora supplied helpfully.
"Exactly." Lily nodded as she floated the stone off her palm with her wand, hoping to direct it home into the lake.
"Accio." Pandora commanded, empty hand extended. Lily felt the slight tug of power meeting her own and dropped the stone in surprise. The little pebble clattered across the stony bank and rolled into the water with a plonk.
Lily rounded on the young McGonagall with eyes wide. "I didn't know you could wandless cast too!"
"I've been practicing." Pandora conceded.
"I felt it." Lily confirmed.
"But it needs to be more." Her disappointment was palpable. "It's a necessary skill for any enchanter."
"Why d'you need to know that?" Marlene asked with a shrug.
Pandora huffed a half-hearted sigh. "Because learning to cast permanent enchantments is part of the wand making process."
When everyone picked their career paths, Pandora had chosen wand maker. Needless to say her aunt wound up with a frazzled look in her eye in the weeks following. To Lily, wand makers were a mysterious and intriguing lot and simply left it at that, she had never bothered to find out what it took to become one. Evidently wandless casting was one of them, and suddenly the elder McGonagall's consternation became far more understandable.
"I'll help you practice wandless casting." Lily offered, though she didn't know the first thing about how to advise someone on a craft that came naturally to her.
"Would you?" Pandora brightened. "That would be wonderful. In return I can share what I have on the topic of enchantments."
"Umm. Sure. Thanks." Though the craft seemed intriguing, Lily could not imagine dedicating any time to it through her workload. In fact she could not imagine what she was doing still sitting by the lake after she added an additional piece of homework to her heaving pile.
"Well that's enough of that." Lily almost sighed as she pulled herself upright and dusted the grass off her robe-skirt. "Work to do, day light's burning."
Marlene leapt up and fell into step. "Thank you Lily! Last time I promise! In fact I'll get started on my Defence essay now." Not that she'll actually finish it before the last day.
Pandora sprung to her feet. "And I'll get you my 'Beginner's Guide to Positive Enchantments and Their Associated Cores' for you to borrow."
"Sure. That'd be nice." Lily wasn't eager to make time to learn the craft but she was always eager to read. She tries to dedicate at least an hour every evening to reading something.
The three friends made their way up the hill and followed the footpath that wound its way around the lake, heading towards the castle. As they drew closer they could see a disturbance playing out just outside the courtyard. Lily quickened her steps, she felt the weight of her prefect badge as she hurried to the small throng of students. Her heart dropped as she spotted the flash of green of the Slytherin crest.
"-And you actually thought to cut across my path you filthy mudblood?"
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I didn't see you there." A little Hufflepuff who couldn't be older than third year, was cowering before a looming giant of a Slytherin boy. Even from afar Lily recognised the hulking boy. The Hufflepuff's friends stood by the shaking muggle-born, but far enough away to be out of arms reach. Hufflepuffs looked out for one another but they weren't Gryffindors about it.
Lily stopped just short of the cluster and took a deep breath. She always hated these types of confrontations. "Excuse me. Prefect here." She tried her best not to let the nervousness into her voice. "I would like everyone to calm down and take a step back." Marlene stepped up in line with her, knuckles cracking. A little back-up never goes amiss.
The large Slytherin boy turned to her, threat radiating from his frame. Mulciber stood a good head and a half above Lily in height, and at least twice that in width. One of Snape's awful friends. She thought glumly to herself. The look of disgust that shrivelled his features when he laid eyes upon her made Lily's stomach clench with righteous anger.
It was this awful mindset that destroyed everything…
"Another mudblood decides to crawl underfoot." He sneered down at the much smaller girl. "And if it isn't Snape's mudblood at that. Perhaps this is my lucky day."
Lily felt Marlene bristle at her shoulder, wand immediately grasped combatively. Lily's hand floated down to her side, hovering over the pocket where her wand was stowed. "Back off Mulciber." Lily commanded warningly. With her other hand she gestured subtly to the little Hufflepuff boy but the poor thing was stricken in his spot.
Within the Slytherin crowd she spotted Regulus Black, a recently promoted fifth year prefect. He appeared bored but still standing among the crowd, neither participating nor assisting Lily with its dissipation. "Black!" Lily called out, grasping at straws on how to deescalate this situation. "As a prefect you are obligated to act against bullies within your own House!"
Irritatingly the Slytherin prefect simply shrugged. "Didn't see any bullying going on. Not my problem." No smarmy smile, no sign of obvious dissent. Just the flippant response of some bored spoilt prat.
"In fact I don't think he's going to see much of anything little miss Gryffindor." Mulciber drew his wand and took a step forward threateningly. Marlene raised her own, ready to retaliate, but Lily threw out a hand to stop her. This didn't have to get ugly.
"I'm warning you Mulciber. And all of you." She directed her glare to every Slytherin present. "Disperse now or you will all get detention." That got a few scowls from the bunch, but Mulciber did not appear to get the message.
"Get her Mulciber!" A voice called from the crowd. "Send a message to that upstart Snape."
A shiver traced down her spine. Lily's eyes widened as she realised the large boy that Snape was reported to have had an altercation with was a reasonable description for Mulciber. Was Snape fighting with his Slytherin friends? Lily internally shook herself. This wasn't her problem, especially not at this moment.
Lily tensed as the hulking Mulciber smiled grotesquely, towering over the two girls. Marlene did not seem the least bit cowed. If it's just her and Marlene against the entire horde of Slytherins, things would likely get ugly and fast. But Slytherins had a tendency to leave each other to fend for themselves. If it was her and Marlene against just Mulciber then the large boy didn't stand a chance.
"One last warning Mulciber. Back off and disperse your crowd." Lily ordered him in an even tone. The Hufflepuff finally got the message and dashed off, his friends flocking to him the moment he was clear.
"Oh look at you. Little Gryffindor, getting all scared." Mulciber sneered.
"Yeah, we're pissing our pants." Marlene responded sardonically. "Like you musta been when you got your arse kicked yesterday by a boy half your size." Damn she put two and two together as well and without a moment's forethought went straight for the trigger.
"Calvinsto!" Mulciber screamed, swinging his wand to bear against the offending girl. Lily hadn't even had her wand out.
"Protego!" The unarmed girl cried, hand outstretched. A shield blazed to life before her, breaking the path of the hex. With that instant her wandless shield bought her, Lily fumbled her wand out of her pocket.
"Stupefy!" Cried Marlene, immediately on the offensive. Credit to where it's due, Mulciber defended himself with well-timed Protego of his own.
Lily stretched out and grasped Marlene's wand hand, stopping her from attacking any further. Mulciber's eyes grew wide with triumph as he brought his wand down with a great roar of "Calvinsto!"
Except his target wasn't either of the Gryffindor girls before him.
Regulus Black went down with a squawk and sudden burst of hair. Mulciber had turned on the spot and hit Regulus with an Instant Scalping Hex. Eyes unfocused the large boy frowned at the sudden hiss of outrage that issued from the Slytherin crowd.
Lily grinned, a little too pleased with herself, tucking her wand away with a flourish. "Didn't notice getting Confundused Mulciber?"
A look of horror dawned on the giant boy's dull face before morphing into rage as he rounded back around on the Gryffindor girls.
"That is quite enough!" A sharp stern voice rang over the courtyard. Professor McGonagall marched out from the entranceway quickly followed by her niece. Lily had wondered where Pandora ran off to. "Mr Mulciber. Ten points from Slytherin for your belligerent display, and you can see me for detention on Saturday. And you are coming with me to see Professor Slughorn immediately." She rounded on one of the Slytherins in the shrinking crowd. "Mr Carrow, see to it that Mr Black here gets to the Hospital Wing" The young Slytherin nodded without meeting her eyes and accompanied the scowling half plucked Black through the courtyard door, his long hair now sporting a bald strip straight down the middle.
Lily stepped back with Marlene, both girls were wise enough to know not to catch the Professor's attention when her ire flared. It did her no good.
"Ms Evans." McGonagall's commanding tone prompted the prefect to jump immediately to attention. "I am shocked to see you of all people scuffling like some common ruffian."
"I did all I could to diffuse the situation, ma'am." Lily offered, a little abashed to be scolded.
"Yeah they were abusing some poor Hufflepuffs." Marlene butted in, a little too aggressively. "We couldn't do nothing."
"And had you not acted did you really think the situation would have devolved into hospitalisation?"
"No…" Lily answered, turning a tinge of red.
"Well then, I think the correct course of action should have been obvious." McGonagall continued. "Find a figure of authority that could appropriately handle the situation so that all would emerge unharmed. I appreciate the sense of justice you girls displayed but often not acting upon judicious instinct is for the greater good." With a curt nod to Pandora, who looked all too pleased with herself for being the only person to have done exactly as her aunt had endorsed, McGonagall turned and marched off with a glum Mulciber in tow.
With a scowl Marlene shook her head, any appearance of chastisement discarded. "I don't care what she says. We did the right thing." Lily peeked up at her from her position of humbling. "Someone was getting attacked who didn't deserve it. We acted when they needed help the most and bullocks to any who says otherwise. After all, the only ones who got hurt were some bloody snakes. If anyone deserves a hiding it's them."
Well this is a sudden turn…
Snape frowned at the Slytherins sitting in his corner at the dinner table. Polite greetings of "Heya Snape" and "Good afternoon" greeted his ears. Carefully he settled into his corner seat of the bench, conveniently left unoccupied for him. Across from him sat Rosier, who smirked as he gave a curt nod. Beside him was Avery, looking withdrawn and sheepish.
Snape frowned and glanced up the table, meeting the eyes and nods of other Slytherins of dark calibre that had migrated to his side of the table. It appeared the cloister of the Death Eater gang had joined him. Even the seventh year Wilkes and Travers sat in his proximity, they didn't meet his eyes or acknowledge him in any way but he knew their proximity meant they accepted his victory over the better connected, pureblood Mulciber.
Speaking of which, Snape's eyes slid to the far end of the table, narrowing at the sight of the lone figure hunched dejectedly over his plate, defeat read over his every feature. The brute of a boy wasn't even devouring his plate with the same gusto.
"Alas our dear friend Mulciber had met a troubling humbling at the hands of that mudblood Gryffindor prefect." Rosier sneered as he followed Snape's line of sight.
A chill settled in the pit of Snape's gut. There was little left to the imagination as to who that might have been, and how that scenario might have come about. Suddenly Snape felt a lot less charitable to his defeated opponent.
"How precious. Twice in two days?" He sneered, loud enough for all in proximity to hear clearly. Their unkind sniggers carried all the way to the far side of the table, causing the humbled boy to shrivel further.
Snape laughed along with them, with the haughty Rosier and the nervous Avery, with the low chuckle of Wilkes and the nasty guffaw of Travers. He laughed along with all the snakes, who would sooner stab him than help him should he stumble. All the while he seethed with a silent insidious rage. That any of them should presume to attack her, his Lily, and believe that she would deserve it simply because she was born of muggle blood.
It was with that rage Snape stormed into Dumbledore's office, ready to demand the expulsion of every Death Eater-to-be in the noble house of Slytherin. He tore the door open, sending the heavy oak door slamming against the cushioning enchantment cast upon the receiving wall.
"Albus!" He shouted into the circular office, his breath heaving from his wild rage and poorly stamina. His commitment to the use of formal pronouns with this less familiar Dumbledore lay forgotten under his torrent of outrage. No voice of surprise, concern or chastisement replied. Only silence.
The office stood empty of both headmaster and bird, and Snape's haze of rage ebbed briefly before flaring again. Outrage compounded upon outrage. He stalked into the office, destructive urge spiking as his fury urged him to let loose upon the headmaster's ridiculous plinking curious, warring with his sensibilities that cautioned with a reminder that he could ill afford to replace any of them.
He set to pacing back and forth before the great claw-footed desk, working out his temper with that familiar agitated motion. "Arranged for a bloody meeting every Thursday night and doesn't even bother to show up for it." He muttered to no one in particular.
Stopping suddenly mid step, Snape's eyes set upon a frayed hat, propped upon a shelf behind that great desk. The hat that sorted him into this pit of deceit and evil, that had told him his ambition ruled him, that his cunning defined him, that there was no doubt he was a Slytherin.
The hat that parted him from his one guiding light.
He ripped the hat from its perch and slammed it down upon his head, its rim no longer finding his ears and nose but fit snugly upon his crown.
A quiet voice spoke into Snape's ears. "Hmm. A bit of time has passed since we last met hasn't it? How odd. I did not feel this time the same way. It almost feels like two lifetimes since we've met."
Snape gritted his teeth, calming his rattled heart and unsettled mind, composing into coherence the question he wished to ask.
"I already know your question, Severus Snape. You ask if I chose correctly, placing you in Slytherin. My answer remains the same."
"How?!" He rasped, suddenly too exhausted to take on a belligerent tone. "My ambitions are dust."
"Your ambition is no longer so insidious, that part is true. But you are still shrewd. You are still cunning. You are still resourceful. Traits Salazar himself would have anointed."
"Am I not brave?" Snape bellowed, unable to tamper his emotions. "Am I not clever? Am I not loyal? Why am I still Slytherin?"
Silence met his ears for the longest time, until finally that small voice returned. "Why is it, Severus Snape, that you think a Slytherin cannot be all of those?" After all his indignation he could not answer the hat. "Is it perhaps because of another thought that had wormed its way into your mind? But Severus Snape, you of all people should know this answer. Slytherin does not mean evil."
Snape tore the hat from his head, heart pounding in his ears. All of his earlier directionless rage dispersed into the wind. Anger often renders his judgement ill, something he's learned in his tedious and fruitless life. What the hat told him was something he had known, something he should not have needed reminding.
Slytherins are not evil.
That had been his mantra when he took over the reins as Head of Slytherin House, the House that did nothing to shelter him from the abuses of the world. A House that left him isolated and vulnerable for the darkness of the world. A House that's comprised of children, many of whom that were equally vulnerable, whose paths were made dark by their inability to find a way to protect themselves by any other means.
That had been why he forced the change in the Slytherin psyche when he took over. The unwritten rules became; no Slytherin will attack another of their house, not verbally, not physically, not emotionally. When one Slytherin was victimised by other members of the school, the House must pull together to protect and support that member, no matter what sparked such a situation. His actions had him accused of favouritism, but it was what the House needed above all else. An adult who would look out for them regardless of the situation, even to the detriment of others.
No Slytherin should be left isolated and vulnerable. That was why the House of the Snake became a house that looked out for its own.
A House that should have been there for Snape when he needed it the most.
His hands had balled into fists, the frayed fabric of the hat twisting under the force of his grip. Taking mercy upon the magical apparel Snape released it, returning it to its position upon the shelf. His anger dissipated, his heart suddenly calm as he looked upon the situation at hand. He was no longer a man of power, just a boy embroiled within the politics of snakes. Yet, with his experience, his lifetime's worth of wiles, he was able to claw himself into a better position than he ever held as a student of this House.
Perhaps…
"Ah Severus, so good of you to show. Apologies for my tardiness."
Snape drew away from the hat and turned to greet Dumbledore who stepped from the stairwell that stretched upwards to the headmaster's workroom and quarters. Upon the headmaster's arm perched Fawkes, intelligent eyes fixed upon the student who dawdled too close to his perch.
With his temper shed and equilibrium restored Snape felt somewhat abashed for his momentary loss of control. He stepped back from the headmaster's desk and allowed Dumbledore to reoccupy his place within the office.
"Dumbledore." He politely greeted with a nod as the headmaster settled at his desk. Fawkes balanced upon his perch, glaring at the younger man almost waspishly. Snape politely averted his gaze. "I have not been waiting long."
Dumbledore smiled with a twinkle in his eye. "Glad to see you had found something to preoccupy yourself in the meantime. Saying hello to an old friend I see."
Snape scowled, unable to keep his face from colouring in response. The headmaster reached over almost absentmindedly to straighten the Sorting Hat upon the shelf. If Dumbledore had heard his frustrated outburst then he mercifully gave no indication.
"Well if there is nothing more pressing to discuss I would like to get started." Dumbledore's blue eyes fixed upon the younger Slytherin who averted his own as he sat himself down opposite. Snape's pressing matter no longer seemed so pressing on this side of his temper.
With a deep breath, Snape readied himself to once more delve into his sordid past, but Dumbledore made no move to summon his Pensieve. Instead he reached into one of the many pockets on his silver trimmed lime green robes and produced a small pouch.
Curious Snape leant in, frowning as Dumbledore pulled open the knot and unthreaded the opening. Then with an almost casual motion he tipped the pouch over and allowed its content to spill upon the desk.
With a light plink a gold ring clattered across the heavy oaken desk, black stone set within its centre, glinting orange in the lamplight.
A/N: Lily can take care of herself. Gryffindor got no space for damsels in distress.
Next Update: Friday 5th May 2017 AEDT.
Chapter 7: Misguided Antipathy
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.