Severus did not like to talk much.

For him conversation needed to be to the point and short. He could never be a public speaker, a writer or Merlin forbid, a poet. That required stringing words along, words that all mean the same thing said over and over again. It was why he usually preferred to remain silent and let the idiots speak over each other trying to impress.

Severus knew he wasn't alone in this. He was plenty aware that many of the people he knew were observers. Sirius Black, who only speaks when he needed to wound or poke fun. Remus Lupin, who was reclusive and thought he needed to speak to caution or inform. Xenophilius Lovegood, who was by far the most colorful character he's spent time with ever (and this honor was decided by him one chilly afternoon when he spied the Headmaster wearing neon robes and even that paled next to his eccentric housemate).

But the most interesting to see was Peter Parker. Short, unassuming—at first glance no one would pay attention to him. Indeed, from what he gathered the boy chose to remain hidden away from the spotlight. Compare him to Potter, irritated as he was at that name or Black and he seems invisible.

However, Severus found a pattern. Parker alternated between maturity and immaturity. One moment he could be morose and another he could be belligerently merry. One of those faces he puts up has to be a lie, he mused. There was also something else. Parker was different from the other ones. Everyone else passed silent judgement with no clue of what happened next. Parker actively looked like he was…waiting. Like he was looking for the result rather than the process, and his eyes looked pensive. It's not unusual to dread the future but he, Parker that is, seems to avoid it.

Perhaps he shouldn't have looked too intently at his target, Severus realized, as the Gryffindor group finished another round of jokes and witticisms that Severus avoided participating in. A first year approached the sandy haired boy, who talked for a few minutes. That was another thing that bothered Severus—Parker clearly detests a crowd yet makes it his duty to mingle with everyone else. Apparently even Slytherins, according to whispers from the upper years. Their heads swiveled in his direction.

Shocked, Severus turned hurriedly to his lunch. That was unnerving, he decided taking a bite. Could they somehow hear him? Or his thoughts? The first year gave a final remark to Parker before turning to Severus.

Better to head him off early, Severus decided as he sized up the unwanted stranger. He was a Ravenclaw, probably one of the first years Parker decided to lecture. Of course, Parker does what he does. He thinks he's of better moral standing than the rest of us mere mortals. Whatever does this boy want now?

"Er, hello." The blonde haired Ravenclaw said. It was disgusting how innocent he looked, trust Parker to be an annoying do-gooder and talk to everyone. He wanted nothing more than the kid before him to vanish into thin air. Unfortunately, that was not possible.

Severus nodded. It made him feel a twinge of pleasure that the other person squirmed. Good, maybe if I stay silent he'll bugger off. He hoped moodily.

"I was told to talk to you." The boy haltingly said. "I—uh, I don't know a lot about magic. Or Hogwarts."

"Clearly." Severus said, looking curiously at him. "Who sent you, Parker?"

"Who, Peter?" The boy said surprised. "It wasn't him. Evans asked me to see you."

Wait, what? Severus was dumbfounded. Since when did Lily care about…wait a second. Was she—shewas smiling at him?

Severus felt like he was dunked into cold water. His stomach was flipping inside out with excitement. Not Peter. Lily. That did make him feel a bit more sociable to the charity case before him.

"What's your name?"

The boy was startled at the first time he was directed a full-blooded question.

"Did I stutter?" Severus asked him. His victim hurriedly shook his head.

"No!" He coughed, another one of his irritable quirks. "My name is Gilderoy, Gilderoy Lockhart." He said, as if expecting that name to resonate with Severus.

Honestly Lily, where do you find these people? He grumbled, mind still working to accommodate a stranger. "That is a ridiculous name."

"Um, so is Severus Snape." That boiled his blood quickly.

Severus sneered. "Think you're funny do you?" Then he realized he wasn't just doing it out of the kindness of his heart—he was doing it because she wanted him to. Her and her helping people nature. He hoped it wasn't contagious. He also wanted to hate her for that, but frankly he could not muster up that particular emotion. No one really can hate Lily Evans, the way she is doesn't allow for it. He took a deep breath to calm himself. "Fine, what did you want to know?"

"I'm sorry!" Lockhart stammered, seeing Severus turn red. "It's just that you probably know the most spells and other great stuff!" He toned down his voice. "That's why I wanted to meet you, you know?"

Maybe I can get him to pay me for this, Severus wondered. He would immediately become wise with both his time and mine.

"First rule," He said curtly, pleased that Lockhart was indeed paying attention. "Never out someone's strength in a crowd. I'll allow it now since you didn't know any better the first time."

"Why?" Lockhart said loudly, before he wised up and spoke rather softly. "I thought that was a Slytherin thing to do?"

"Would you rather let another person know and learn what is your biggest advantage? Or worse, use it against you?" Gilderoy paled at Severus' answer. He nodded. "In Ravenclaw, knowledge is strength. No one will help you learn, because they want to shine themselves. And second rule, don't look like a Niffler caught stealing."

At Gilderoy's blank look, he sighed. "It means don't look like a deer caught in the headlights, Lockhart."

"Oh."

"Yes, oh." Severus rose up and Lockhart tailed behind him. When they were past the hall's large doors, Severus asked, "Don't you have any classes today?" Or rather, anytime that is now?

"No, not really." Lockhart blabbered. "I'd really like if I could know more."

"About?"

"Not looking like a Niffler."

Severus bit back a harsh reply. He hoped he never had to make educating a permanent fixture in his life. "Follow me." He said, his mind thinking about polite ways to say that Lockhart was a real ninny.

X-X

"Settle down now!" Slughorn's whiskers quivered with every word he spoke, a sight that still amused one Barty Crouch. Peter was right. He did have an easier time being the Minister's son in Potions class. Not that he liked being called that of course. Slughorn's words grated whenever he made any attempt to connect class behavior with the man he wanted connections with. It was easy to see what the Gryffindor meant.

Today he was going to be partnered. Last time he used the convenient excuse of fame to wheedle out of another tag along which wasn't successful anyway. Today however Slughorn could not be reasoned with. He was shunted to the back alongside another Slytherin. At least this one isn't a Hufflepuff, remembering the girl before that didn't try to speak to him at all. The boy spoke first.

"Should I get the ingredients or will you?" He spoke quietly. Barty reasoned that sounded very much like a person from a wizarding family, same as him. He settled for levity among equals.

"Dunno, how good are you at Potions?" He muttered grinning while other students milled about. His target smiled back.

"Not to brag, but I can follow instructions well enough to not melt a cauldron."

"Then you stir and I pour." Barty declared, leaving to bring the ingredients required. When he was finished, they turned to the textbook.

"Three and a quarter stirs? How in Merlin's name are we supposed to do that?" Barty puzzled, reading through the instructions. His class partner chuckled.

"It's like dividing a slice of pie. Three and a quarter means three turns and four slices, so we stir until the end of the first slice and start over." Barty turned towards him. His dark eyes glinted in humour. "What?" He said defensively, shrugging. "That's how I was taught."

"Now you've gone and made me hungry thinking about pie." Barty lamented and the two boys had a chuckle over that. "How long does this thing take?" He asked, sliding porcupine quills into the bubbling cauldron while the other boy turned the heat up.

"About an hour of class. Slughorn knows what he's doing." The other boy said. "So, should I know who you are? Slughorn seemed awfully chummy with you."

Barty shrugged. "I guess. He's always talking about my dad in the ministry."

"Does your father work in the Ministry's office?"

Barty smirked. "He is the Minister."

The boy's eyes widened. "Ah, that explains a lot. You have the same name right? Barty Crouch."

"Yeah. What about you?"

"Regulus Black." Barty took care not to show he was surprised but it must have leaked through because Regulus continued. "I'm guessing you've heard of me."

"Your family, yeah. They've got a reputation."

Regulus bristled but his tone was light. "All pureblood families do. We are the backbone of wizarding society."

"So," Barty said after an awkward pause. "How Black are you?"

"Pardon?" Regulus said. Barty grinned. A Muggleborn would have excused himself or said something uncouth. Trust a Black to be polite.

"Y'know, on a scale of donating tons of Galleons to the Ministry to decapitating other people."

"We don't decapitate people!" Regulus hissed. "And it's not like we're the only ones who disgust everybody. Does anyone know what your father is up to in the Ministry?"

The light mood that pervaded before was bordering on animosity. "At least my father didn't have to use his name to get power."

"No one can be better than a Black, not even you and your father." Regulus stirred with a frown on his face. Regulus's comment made him annoyed but he tried to approach the issue differently.

"So you follow the traditions of the Black family?"

"Yeah." Regulus said snootily. "What's it to you?"

"I thought Blacks never followed rules." Barty sneakily said.

"Yes they don't—" Regulus stopped, an accusatory glare thrown at Barty. "That's not what I meant and you know it."

"So you're a follower." Barty said. "It's good. You want to follow, but what if the people you follow don't like you? They'll move on after trampling you, but you won't."

"I—" Regulus struggled to say something. "That won't happen. They wouldn't."

"Wouldn't they?" Barty hissed.

"Time's up!" Slughorn said, peering down their Boil Curing potion. "I'm delighted to see a clear winner. The smell is on the mark and the colour is right my boys, well done!" He beamed at Barty and Regulus. "How did you manage to accomplish this together?"

"It wasn't much, Professor." Barty remarked. "I read the instructions and he followed them."

Regulus scowled. "Better to follow than be a deviant." The bell rang and everyone hurried to get out of the stuffy classroom.

When all was said and done, Barty did feel a bit of regret about distressing Regulus. He seemed to be better than Sirius, although Sirius had his priorities straight. Maybe he should talk later, resolve this thing before he made another person hate him.

Peter has definitely made him more thoughtful. He didn't know if he liked it or hated it. The odd boy who called himself Pettigrew. Was it a nickname? Or something else? Time would tell if he believed one or the other, but for now he made a beeline to the Slytherin common room, where he needed to have another conversation with a decent Black where he wasn't as caustic.

X-X

"I can't just keep my head down."

"You'll do it if you know what's good for you." Severus muttered. He knew he should have turned right. As soon as he exited Charms, Lockhart was waiting outside.

"I suppose you want to learn more." Severus grinded his teeth. Is the boy actually skiving off classes to talk? He had half a mind to inform Flitwick, to distance himself.

But the boy came because he needed Severus. He needed counsel. And strangely Severus wasn't averse to the idea. He was disgustingly open to being a better influence than the rabble surrounding him at the castle. So he tried (with great difficulty) to smile as Lockhart approached.

"Yes," Lockhart said, then hurriedly added, "but only if it's okay with you! I wouldn't want to be a bother."

"Perish the thought." Severus said wryly. The corridor filled with his classmates minutes ago was slowly becoming empty. "What did you want to know?"

"The whole personality thing." Here we go. "Did you really mean it when you said that was enough to make a difference?"

"If you really listened to a word I said, you would know the key word here is almost enough." Severus started. "It's not a cloak or a robe someone wears, regardless of what Slytherins think of it as. No," he spoke quicker, "a personality is an extension of one's own nature. You can't change your stripes into spots, but you can use them to blend in however you see fit." He paused to see Lockhart looking gormlessly befuddled.

"I suppose I have to explain." He stopped, thinking of a good way to make him understand. "You see a little child in danger. What do you do?"

"Send something to the Ministry before going to rescue the child from danger myself."

"Good grief, it's a miracle you aren't in Gryffindor." Severus shook his head. "If it was up to me, I would place more emphasis on destroying the danger before rescuing the child." He spoke before Lockhart could say anything. "Yes, you and I are both different but that's in our nature. And that nature is what separates everyone. It's what you need to use for your personality."

"You mean I should use a personality that's like my nature?" Lockhart put a finger on his chin, looking comically thoughtful. "Like a hero?"

"Merlin no!" Severus said horrified. What kind of person jumps to a conclusion like that? "That's the stupid thing to do. If everyone around you is wary of you, the fight is over. You need to fool them into thinking they know everything about you, but strike when they can't understand how." He gestured towards the blonde. "If you want to be brave, be stupidly kind and nitwit like. If you want to be smart, be a bumbling fool in all the simple things. If you want to be cunning, you must be clueless."

"I think I understand what you're saying." Lockhart said with wide eyes, as if enlightenment has dawned upon him. "But I can't pretend to be something I'm not." Severus frowned, but motioned for him to think aloud.

"So what you're saying is," Lockhart said breathlessly. "that I should have a persona that's only different from who I am to everyone else, and that way no one can tell who I really am or what I really think."

Severus huffed; the message had gone through the other boy's head. He would have tried to shake off the brat but every time Lockhart had nattered on without stopping. Whatever he had, that irritable chipper tone of his, it was driving him crazy. "I'm glad to see you're paying attention. Now if you don't mind, I have things to do." Like writing a foot's worth of parchment on the Swelling Solution.

For some blessed reason Lockhart actually agreed. "Thanks Severus." Severus waited for him to finish, the sooner the better. "I'm glad I met you." Speaking of parchment, Severus really did not want Lockhart following him too much. Maybe someone else can handle this.

"When you're inside the common room, talk to a Xenophilius Lovegood."

"A Xeno-what now?"

Lord help me. "He'll help you with homework, his History notes are top notch."

Severus breathed in relief. Only to narrow his eyes when Lockhart turned the other way, away from the House dorms and towards the stairs. What on Earth was he doing? He wasn't going to follow him now, but mentally noted to ask the boy later.

Lost in thought he did not realize he was in someone's way and collided rather violently shoulder to shoulder. Severus wanted to snarl at the collision but puzzled his brows at the assailant hurrying away. Why was Parker running away?

X-X

Peter was in the Common Room, sorting through his trunk. The day was nearly over, lunch was had and he decided to have a small kip before going out with the boys later. Peter had gone through with reorganizing his stuff. The excuse was he needed to sort himself out. The truth was he didn't want to put it past James and Sirius to break the locks magically and replace them with prank charms. He was subtly also placing detection spells.

It was in this state of mind he pondered what he really was doing. For the umpteenth time he had asked Dumbledore about progress with the Horcruxes. Peter was anxious for a whiff of news, any source of possible triumph against Voldemort, anything to stick it to a place of shame. Was that what drove him, shame? Guilt? He was asked but not commanded, he was sent here but not informed about anything in the slightest. It was genuinely a test of good luck that he's been on the right track this far.

"Protego." He muttered as the wand encased a shimmering blue bubble that faded after some time.

He also realized he wasn't fooling anybody. A year ago he was a nobody, virtually unknown anywhere except in his own dorm. That was before he had friends. Or had them, lost them, and now gained them again. The odd disappearances weren't going to fool the three friends he knew best. Nor was it going to hoodwink Lily and Snape. He had to tell them.

How many times has he stopped here, repeating himself like a bad recording? They will catch on, Peter. He grimaced. They can't be ignorant forever.

But how? How was he going to say this, this of all the things he knew and had done? He could imagine the conversation well, telling them that he was directly responsible for their deaths and betrayal. Twelve-year olds they might be, but they were not stupid. He hated postponing this, but his—he swallowed in white hot frustration—cowardice prevented this.

Hmm, that was odd.

A piece of paper. Blank. Maybe this was Dumbledore's way of telling him that there is to be a meeting. He turned over the wad of paper, expecting writing.

There was none.

Peter chuckled. Of course, Dumbledore and his fancy spellwork. He tapped it with his wand.

Hello Wormtail.

Peter threw the paper down and backed away hurriedly. What the hell? The writing folded into itself before appearing again, the message different this time. Peter peeked at it nervously.

You can't hide forever.

Peter raised his wand to burn it. Whatever it was, it had to be cursed. Dark magic. Someone or something got to know his secret.

I will find you.

"Incendio!" Yellow flames licked the small paper until it blackened to ash. It created a mess on the floor, but Peter did not care.

Voldemort? No, it couldn't possibly be. Voldemort was not even aware that he was being watched by Dumbledore this time, how could he know Peter was against him? The only people who knew were Dumbledore, himself and Moody. Maybe the Auror dug around and found something, that had to be it.

He shuddered.

Whoever wrote the message knew where he was. Knew his name. And knew exactly how to frighten him.

He had to find Dumbledore.

But there was no way to contact him right now. To warn him. He had to run to the office.

His shoulder just impacted someone. Snape? He couldn't linger, not with the threat facing him right now.

Every step felt like he was reaching some sort of conclusion. For so long he thought he had the upper hand, that he knew all that needed to win the war. Now there was a niggle of panic. Fear.

Desperation.

"Chocolate Frogs!"

The gargoyle stared blankly. "The Headmaster is not in the office right now. May I take a message?"

"What?" Peter shrieked. "Where is Dumbledore?"

"Headmaster Dumbledore is currently out of Hogwarts boundaries. Please leave a message for him."

"Where is he?!" He looked around frantically. Maybe something was watching him, something behind the rows of knights and paintings.

"Professor Dumbledore is at St. Mungo's." That wasn't the gargoyle. Peter's heart stopped. He turned around.

"Lockhart?" The sandy haired boy stood alone. "What do you mean he's at St. Mungo's?" Horror soaked his heart. "Is he injured? Is he hurt?" Maybe the enemy was after Dumbledore all this time. Maybe he—

"No. I thought you'd know." The boy shook his head nervously. "Everyone already left."

"What do you mean?"

"Peter," Lockhart stammered with difficulty. "There's been an accident and the professors left with Dumbledore already."

Peter's mind was running overtime. He scrambled to think of how he did not know of this. "But how?"

Lockhart swallowed, blinking heavily. "Potter—James, something happened to him."

And Peter's heart sank.