November 2, 1975 - Hogwarts

Professor McGonagall's - Minerva's, she corrected herself - offer of apprenticeship had been floating around her mind for the past few weeks. It tempted her greatly, with its promises of purpose, direction, belonging… all made even sweeter by the events of the past few days.

She thought back to the morning she'd received that letter, a scant few days beforehand, but it seemed like an eternity. She'd sat in her room then, for hours, numb and dissociative, wondering how she should feel. The decision had been taken out of her hands by the second letter - anger and despair overpowering the grey mist that had seemed to descend over her mind - but that sense of uncertainty had still remained.

It solidified her decision.

She raised her hand to the wooden door, hesitating for just one second before she knocked.

"Come in."

This was it, then.

Insecurity plagued her as she stepped over the doorstep, her mind echoing with visions of McGonagall rejecting her, rescinding the offer, laughing at her for believing it had been anything more than pleasantry.

"Is there something you need, Miss Nazyalensky?" McGonagall asked from behind her desk, laying down the papers in her hands.

Cassiopeia felt warmth spread throughout her chest as the witch's impassiveness turned to concern. Her presence showed she needn't worry - the Professor had already shown whose side she was on.

Mine.

"Sorry to bother you, Professor," she smiled apologetically.

"Not at all, dear," McGonagall said, inviting her to sit, and clearing her desk with a tap of her wand. "What brings you here, Cassiopeia?"

"The apprenticeship…" her voice wavered slightly, and she cleared her throat. "Would you still be willing?"

Cassie's heart hurt at the smile that broke out on the older woman's face. It was almost unthinkable to her that such a simple thing, spending time with her - of all people - could bring such light to someone's eyes.

"Of course, lass. I was wondering if you'd ever ask." She paused, then abandoning all manner of unspoken rules: "Give me a hug, won't you?"

As Cassiopeia turned her head into the woman's chest, she felt a profound sense of peace spread into her body. This feels like home.

Hours later, just minutes before curfew, she had been accompanied to the brink of the dungeons, Minerva still explaining animatedly all of the aspects of her apprenticeship that she had to look forward to.

It was only when they'd been about to say goodnight that the professor recalled one last thing. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to spend the summer with me? It's a bit of tradition for new apprentices, but by no means necessary. I'm sure you've got better places to be."

Cassiopeia froze, immediately panicking inside. She'd never heard of such a custom - was the professor giving her an out? Did she know?

No, was her immediate answer. You're being irrational.

Still, the offer was something she didn't even think to refuse. "I'd love that, professor."

"Then I'm looking forward to it - I'll send you the rest of the information in a few days."

November 6, 1975 - Hogwarts

Severus had been summoned to the Headmaster's office after dinner, dread already pooling in his stomach as he read through the neatly penned note.

Cassiopeia had relayed to him something of what'd transpired following her… attack… and the generalities had been enough to make his stomach turn. He had no fondness for the Headmaster, but he always managed to sink to even lower depths than previously thought possible.

It astounded him, though, that not many more could see it - could see past the dotty, wrinkled, gaudy facade. Still, if only the cracks caused such cruelty to shine through, Severus could not imagine what the Headmaster was truly like on the inside.

He cleared his mind, and entered the office.

"Mr. Snape, thank you for coming," Dumbledore said jovially. He seemed content to ignore their past displeasure, and instead waved him to a seat, pulling out a box of yellow candy from his desk. "Would you like some?"

Severus sat stiffly in the leather armchair, not quite glaring at the room, but close enough. "No, thank you, Headmaster."

"Ah, well," he replied, sounding disappointed. "I'll at least make you some tea."

He was given no room to refuse as Dumbledore immediately set about performing this task, leaving Severus with not much else to do than to stare at the walls.

This exploration, however, did not reveal much of interest. The room was lined with bookshelves - atypical for a Gryffindor, although he supposed the man must have at least some intellect to become the headmaster - and those shelves were filled not only with literature, but with all variety of bizarre trinkets, whirling and flashing with lights.

Severus remembered one of them, from his earliest visit to the office. He attempted to seek it out now - a glass fox - but it was gone. In its place stood a… well, he wasn't too sure exactly what it was, but it resembled something of a silver crown, although badly damaged - blackened, burnt, and lacerated almost to the point of nonrecognition.

Dumbledore glanced up to where he was looking, and something like a half-smirk appeared on his face before it smoothed over. "Here it is."

A delicate teacup was levitated to the edge of the desk, filled to the brim with warm, dark drink. It beckoned to him invitingly, the scent curling up from it that of citrus-trees and vanilla beans, but still he felt reservations about accepting the Headmaster's offer.

Dumbledore had settled again into his ornate chair, bringing his own cup to his lips. Above the rim, two blue eyes stared him down uncomfortably, clearly compelling him to do the same.

Severus tasted the tea.

Exquisite, was his only observation. Although he attempted to discern more - a foreign taste, perhaps - he could not find it. He met the Headmaster's approving gaze.

"Is there anything you needed, sir?"

"Ah, yes." The wizard leaned forward slightly, intertwining his hands. "Tell me, Mr. Snape, are you aware of who has recently begun corresponding with your friend?"

"Narcissa Malfoy has acquired a new owl, I believe," Severus said neutrally, "but I could not be certain unless I intercepted Cassiopeia's post."

The Headmaster frowned at the implication, though it seemed more reflexive than anything. "I see…"

The headmaster met his eyes, and Severus felt a probing sensation deep inside his head, one which made him deeply, innately uncomfortable. He recognised it as Legilimency, almost immediately, but his attempts to bring up a shield seemed to have absolutely no effect on the presence swirling through his mind.

The sensation lifted moments later, leaving him only with the vague sense that the Headmaster's next words were important, worth listening to.

"... do not discourage her from writing, then."

"Of course, sir."

He was not too certain as to why he was agreeing.

"Obliviate."

Severus caught her as she was opening her latest letter, a flash of recognition appearing in his eyes as he took in the charcoal grey seal. She stiffened and kept her eyes downturned, waiting for the anger that she was sure would follow.

Yet, when several seconds later, there had been no outburst of rage, she allowed herself to glance up. Severus looked unconcerned, which… well she didn't know which of the two reactions would be more worrying.

"You… don't care?" she asked.

Severus shrugged, taking a seat on the trunk at the bottom of her bed. "Not really. I mean, it's dangerous, but if you're going to…" he frowned for a second, "...then do."

She looked at him with concern for a second, before shaking off the behaviour. "...All right, then - would you like to read it?"

"Sure."

Nazyalensky -

It was not I who destroyed your home, and I'll ask you to keep in mind that such accusations are not to be made lightly. Nevertheless - and you will have to write Lucius to confirm - I believe he got a little… carried away, when he observed your living conditions. Do not worry, both he, and the person responsible for them were sufficiently punished for their transgressions.

"...Lucius did that?" she asked, half in disbelief and half in anger. "He - "

Severus lay a calming hand on her shoulder, and she took a deep breath. "Okay, I'll write to him and ask him why, but he'd better have a sufficient excuse."

"Reasonable, but I'll want to know as well," Severus replied, and took the parchment from her hands.

I am pleased to hear, however, that you have not allowed yourself to be swayed by the petty machination of that old fool of yours. Though, he does not really care for converting Slytherins to his cause, does he?

It matters not, it will only weaken him in the end - I know that you've experienced the unfortunate reality of untempered Gryffindor brashness many times before. You may be pleased to hear, then, that I have taken some actions to prevent such… outbursts...in the future - I daresay you will be hearing about them any day.

Your doubt as to my methods is less pleasing to hear, as I would think your history should clearly allow you to understand why no action other than a complete and total extermination - of both Muggles and Muggleborns - is the only way forward. However, if…you… have devised another solution, then - by any means - I will be glad to hear of it.

Cassiopeia looked pained.

"What did you suggest to him?"

"Just that I'm not sure killing all of the people he deems inferior will actually work towards his goal," she replied, folding her hands under her chin. "I mean, Muggleborns are born all the time, will he just never stop seeking out infants and… killing them? He's implied he doesn't condone violence against children, but that might not extend to the Muggle world…" she trailed off, lost in thought.

Severus scanned the rest of the letter through. "You asked him to stop telling his followers to propose to you?"

She flushed. "Yeah, I thought I'd take the chance while I could."

Severus hummed. "Well he agreed, at least for now, so that's good… He's leaving next week… Here: I'll be making a trip outside of Britain, and shall have no time to talk with little girls… Probably shouldn't write back, then… And he signed his name 'Valens Gaunt.' Does that seem familiar?"

"I - " She thought back to the first time she'd met the Dark Lord, and what he'd introduced himself as. " - Yes, actually. It's the name he's adopted in public."

"Ah." Severus folded closed and handed it back to her, skin just brushing over hers as their fingers touched.

They pulled away from each other, cheeks tinged slightly pink.

"Just be careful, though. I'm still worried."

"Of course."

November 7, 1975 - Hogwarts

"These are lies!"

Sirius Black's enraged shout was loud enough as to bring the whole school's attention to him - face blotchy red, and seething with rage.

The owl post had, just minutes before, delivered to the students what was quite possibly the most interesting story of the year:

Black Family Heir Disinherited for Violent Harassment of Fellow Students

Rita Skeeter has obtained exclusive information from Gringotts Bank, suggesting that the oldest child of the Black Family has been formally disinherited following his violent attack on fellow student, Miss Cassiopeia Nazyalensky of Slytherin. Lord Black, when pressed for comment, asserted that such actions would not, and should not, be tolerated by any respectable family, and that until his son atoned for his actions, the family's (vast) fortune would be inaccessible to him. For more information, turn to page 4.

The Great Hall was quiet after his pronouncement, anticipation practically thrumming through the room as the students waited for his explanation.

"My family are liars. Slimy, disgusting purebloods who only disinherited me because I didn't want to join the Dark!"

The Gryffindors around him gasped in horror, seeming to need no evidence to substantiate such a statement.

"I am - "

He was cut-off by Regulus' voice, strong and confident as he spoke from his seat. "That's a rather strong claim, don't you think, brother? I rather doubt our family will appreciate such sentiments being expressed if it is proven they are false."

Black snarled, seemingly even more greatly angered that his own brother would not take his side. "I don't give a fuck about our family, Regulus," he said, the turned to the school. "If it's between being disinherited and joining them - " he pointed at the Slytherin table, " - then it's an easy decision to make."

He sat down, and the whole school erupted into a roar of discussion and speculation.

"Looks like you're the heir, then, Regulus," Severus drawled to the boy on his right once the noise had settled down enough for him to be able to speak. "Congratulations."

"Thanks, Severus," Regulus' brown eyes shone. "I'll enjoy it for however long it lasts."

"Knowing Black, I daresay you're set for life - "

"This seems like an occasion to commemorate," Avery interrupted with a smirk. "Celebratory drink in the common room, tonight?"

"I'm down," Regulus smiled.

•••

I'm sorry for the delay - I've been sick with Covid this past week and are only now feeling better. However, I hope I've made up the absence with this longer chapter, and that you enjoyed it. Thank you to SilentMayhem and Stephanie MRV for helping. Have a lovely day, and stay safe.