Severus Snape was not a good man by any standard. He has stolen, betrayed, broken, but those numerous sins do not add up to his current suffering: the Start of Year feast.
He counted the minutes until he was able to be back in his room. Maybe nursing a black coffee and maybe even a blueberry muffin if he was feeling particularly despairing.
It was 1991. Harry Potter's sorting. Severus could spot him in the queue despite having never set eyes on him before.
Well, he supposed, there was one moment in Godric's Hollow where Lily…
Nope, never seen him before. And yet he was the epitome of James Potter already. Proud, messy and standing next to a red haired girl in the Sorting Line.
It felt like 1971 again. A tanned James Potter standing next to a pale Lily Evans, whilst Severus had been pushed down the line. He remembered her giggling, involuntarily let out if the glare on her face was anything to go by. He remembered how she still met up with Severus, despite being put in the same House as James Potter and his later obsessors. Still thought Severus mattered even after the poison they spat at him. Severus never felt so tall alongside Lily Evans. So proud. So… happy.
Severus let out a wry smile in her memory. The woman he loved gone by his own hand. Poetic.
A smile accidentally observed by a different red-haired girl. She smiled back brightly. As if his emotions were catered towards her specifically. He resolved to look back impassively, but she turned away for it was her turn to be Sorted.
Lily Moon
The Professor could have stopped breathing.
Lily Moon, his new Slytherin.
She waved at Snape from where she sat at the end of the Slytherin table, and he turned away.
He let himself indulge in his memories for a little while longer. Experience the true Lily. No James,Potter no Harry Potter, no inconveniently named girls to haunt the precious little times he had with her.
He nursed a black coffee at the feast. He allowed himself a blueberry muffin in his chambers.
2)
Lily Moon was currently in his chambers, Murtlap Essence on her knuckles.
"Ms Moon, attacking another student is never permissible. Especially when you're caught by 17 others."
She was a straight EE student and other professors never had any problems with her behavior before. It was a startling 180. Severus started over.
"Ms Moon. Are there any issues I should be aware of? At home? In the Common Room?" Admittedly, he wished she'd deny everything so he could carry on his day. He really did not care. Nor did he get paid enough to deal with her brash nature or Mr Malfoy's rants about how he'd make sure his Father sued Ms Moon for the damage to his face.
Lily fidgeted slightly under the desk, clearly in a battle with herself, it took all of the Professor's self control not to snap at her to hurry up and spit it out.
"Malfoy called me a Mudblood." She whispered the admittal as if he would laugh at her.
It was such a relieving turn of event that Severus could have laughed at it being the cause of her anger. Name calling was much easier to deal with than the straight up paralysis of students occurring this year. Although, it did make him wonder how long she'd have before she too was paralysed or killed. Only Muggle-Borns have suffered so far after all.
"Indeed."
She correctly took this as a sign to continue. "So I punched him. Like a Muggle."
This time, he did sigh.
"Thank you Ms Moon. I will deal with him. We do not tolerate bigotry at Hogwarts."
It was a lie. He remembered all too well that his bigotry towards his own friend wasn't challenged. It had been a relief at the time, but the later cost was traumatic.
Not put out by her Professor's monotonous promises, the self-righteous girl gave a half-hearted smile. "Thank you, Professor."
She seemed relieved when the only instruction he gave was to go to the Hospital Wing so Madam Pomfrey could check for infections.
He didn't have it in him to punish her for actions he wished were cast on himself all those years ago.
Mudblood! Mudblood? Mudblood.
The thoughts and memories never got easier to deal with.
He forgoed the muffin and coffee that night. Instead deciding a pint at Rosmerta's would do him wonders.
He never did hear her finish her (clearly fabricated) tale about the Orc she caught in the restrooms with a Gnome.
Just how he never did hear another tale from Lily Moon that year.
3
Third year brought problems.
Not just the obvious problems; Sirius Black on the run and another year he's forced to cater to children's beck and call, but also Lupin problems.
Professor Snape had only just sat in his desk chair and his day was already being interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Ms Moon."
At his private quarters doors. During lesson time. With another student.
"Ms Greengrass."
An interesting friendship. Hopefully means he will be getting bothered by the Moon less. He truly did not care about her complaining, but it was his job.
The young girls scanned the room, obviously trying to remember as many details as she could. The few posters on his wall were, naturally, potions related. Some of the shelves were full to the brim with record discs. Moon seemed to recognise some as well if the noise of surprise was anything to go by. The drawn back curtains shone the light directly onto her fiery-red hair,
He cleared his throat.
"Professor, sir, Lily was upset in class so I told her how to get here."
There goes that previous thought. Now she'll bother him at more than just his classroom.
Gritting his teeth, he let Moon (as Greengrass smiled at her encouragingly before almost running off. At least some students understood he was an angry man not to be bothered.) into his quarters.
He gestured for her to sit and he resumed his place behind his desk. The photographed frame of his true Lily sat staring into his soul judgingly, almost telling him he couldn't turn Moon away.
"Sir, Professor Lupin tried making us show our fears to everyone in the class. We share it with Gryffindors. And Malfoy! I didn't want him to know what my boggart was."
It was a surprisingly sensible decision from the girl. She clearly knew that he'd allow it. If only to spite Lupin, although she didn't need to know that.
"How many others walked?" He knew what some of his House's family lives were like. He was under no illusions that some of their fears would be their own parents or living situations - something easily abused by the cruelty of other students.
"I don't know. I was one of the first. With Daphne."
He levelled the girl a searching stare. He hadn't thought about her home life - he had heard nothing and assumed nothing either.
"Are you unsafe at home? Hitting? Verbal abuse? Sexual?" There was no point in beating around the bush with these situations. Normally the way the student reacted was proof enough.
It was relieving when she only blinked at him in confusion. And then shook her head. Particularly relieving that she even seemed to be telling the truth
"Very well. Sit and mark these essays until your class is over. I will speak to Lupin after class."
He was very uncomfortable with the heartfelt gaze she bestowed upon him. He looked away.
One month later. Sirius Black attacks the Gryffindor Common Room portrait.
It was so typical for a Black to ruin his day. He was looking forward to relaxing after a double potion slot with Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw 6th years; it is his most relaxed day with only those two lessons in his schedule and semi-competent brewers.
Instead, he now has to stay up all night to make sure all his little Slytherins are safely tucked into their little sleeping bags in the Great Hall so they're not murdered. It is torture. In fact, he's lived through torture. He prefers it.
He looks down at the piles of sleeping arrangements spread around the hall. Most are spread out near the back, as if a Professor's hearing hasn't been amplified due to teaching these little cretins who think they're slick, and all of them avoid his general area. All except one.
He glances down, unimpressed, at his feet.
"Ms Moon. It would be very helpful if you could prevent yourself from laying on top of my feet."
He sees the internal debate on her face.
Three years in Slytherin and she still wears her heart on her sleeve and her emotions on her face. Her being bullied would almost be her fault, if he didn't know how cruel children could be.
"Why are we here?"
The Professor is tempted to just kick her. It's a close thing.
"Sirius Black is currently in the castle, as the Headmaster said. We are skillful adults who have a duty to protect you. You are safer here. Go to sleep. And. Get. Away. From. Me."
She scoots back a little.
Ms Moon has always been more comfortable around him, for reasons unknown. He suspects it's because he has been her only protector in a foreign place. A Muggle-born in Hogwarts deals with enough, as he experienced with his own Lily, but a Slytherin Muggle-Born's experience must be rough.
It wasn't empathy. Nor sympathy. It was a mere understanding of why she is. Supposedly, you can't have someone in your office 24/7 and not form a familiarity of some kind and he does see her more than he sees Draco. And Draco's his Godson.
Speaking of, he should probably go speak to his Godson outside of scorning him.
He wanders away from the enigma that is Lily Moon and her strange attachments.
4)
"Introducing the Tri-Wizard Tournament."
Severus might quit. This actually might just be the thing that kills him.
Forget Dark Lords - dealing with testosterone filled children and a Headmaster who will make this His Problem will be enough to send him to his grave.
Dumbledore seems to sense this and winks at the bemoaning Professor.
He takes a furious sip out of his dark green thermos - a Start of Year gift from Ms Lily Moon herself, so he would no longer have to wait until the Feast to get a drink - as the Headmaster explains the rules further.
Only for 17 year olds. Not a bad thing. And if a few students come to him for help brewing an Aging Potion that he knows will fail, then oh well. He never claimed to be a good man, and he's allowed to have fun now and again.
Two weeks before the Yule Ball, the Heads of Houses were instructed to teach dance to their students. Dumbledore said it was to "prevent mishappenings in front of the new schools," but the look he wore gave away his true intention; to make Snape suffer.
Hence, his sudden appearance in the common room on a Saturday eve.
"Nicholson. Refrain from adding anything else into that punch bowl or you will be cleaning the throw up off this floor by yourself. No magic." The Slytherins had decided 6pm was a perfect time for a party and normally he was graced with the ability to ignore it because if they were in here they were out of his hair.
"All 4th years above with no experience in dancing. Follow. If you are foolish enough to believe you are adequate at dancing, stay. I will find joy in your suffering come the Ball."
He issued no more instructions and swept away to the abandoned classroom he had set up specifically. They would either keep up or not. Not his problem.
"The Yule Ball will be a dance. You will learn." He refused to showcase the dancing himself. "By this mannequin. Watch it. Apply it. Begin."
The mannequin was demonstrating a waltz - the easiest of dances and one he himself had to learn by Narcissa Malfoy before he was deemed suitable to attend her Malfoy Yule parties.
"Zabini. Stop giggling. You are not a prepubescent schoolgirl."
The students swapped partners.
"Crabbe. Do not jerk around like a bumbling ape."
The dancing ended after 20 minutes and he declared them adequate. It was a lie. They were just all infuriating.
Expectedly, Moon hovered. Zabini elbowed her on the way out and they shared a grin.
Thrilling. Teen drama he would have to endure.
"Will you go to the Ball with me, Sir." The Professor sneered down at the girl looking up at him through her eyelashes.
"No."
If only he could bottle and drink the crestfallen expression she wore; it would satiate him for years.
But her defeated expression only lasted a second longer before she turned and left.
No signature smile in sight.
He classed it as a small win.
Christmas had arrived. It meant Snape woke up to a handful of festively wrapped creations in his chambers. He sorted through them idly.
Christmas wasn't necessarily his favorite time of the year, but he did like free items. Especially as his House was half full of rich Purebloods.
One item he was gifted was Missing Potions and How to Brew them - a 20th Century adaption of 16th century potions. It was good. Not good enough to excuse Warrington's 19 detentions and 4 Trolls on his OWL results though.
Another pair of socks from Dumbledore.
"They have charmed cauldrons on, Severus, isn't that remarkable!"
Truly joyous. They burned well as kindling.
Another gift. Wrapped plainly in red wrapping. An oversized Lily flower.
A mocking, hideous creation. He's always hated them after 1991. Symbolic of death and everything that went wrong in his life. He cast it aside in disgust.
It did nothing to improve his mood for the night.
The Yule Ball was a spectacular sight. Ice sculptures adorning every corner. Children gathered in an effort of cross-house and inter-school relations. McGonagall getting absolutely slaughtered drunk.
However, the Professor knew it wasn't for him. He was in a sour mood and was tasked with supervising outside. It was the other Professors' ways of admitting they want to have fun without Snape's personality getting in the way of that in the Hall.
Therefore, he was out in the cold. All night. Well at least from 9pm upwards because he wasn't going to spend his whole holiday looking after children.
And by looking after, he means yelling at them. It was a good thing he made the 4th years' and up Sex Education mandatory.
"Flint! Outside mating is for animals."
"Periander! Clothes are a necessity."
"Anyone caught in a bush will be severely punished. And the letter their mother receives will surely make her faint."
Small joys. Watching people rush up as they blush and run for cover in the Hall, unknowingly signing their names in bold print in Severus' mind. He couldn't wait to torment Granger over this. Perhaps he'll make the next potions assignment the Beautification Potion to spite her.
Yelling and scolding truly was one of Snape's finer professions and he truly excelled in it. In fact, it brought his happiness levels to extraordinarily high amounts. He was set to retire to his chambers at exactly 00:15 at a less than average prone-to-snap level.
Until Moon followed him in.
The ginger looked like the devil herself, with her hair up in buns and an over-enlarged lily plant in her hair.
There was no time for anger as she replaced his glower with her lips on his own.
"I'm your lily." She whispered, as her arms traipsed down his back.
Pure anger filled the professor. He knew the implications of what happened - what has been happening. The stupid mudblood girl, bullied for years, has chosen to infaute with the one person who helped her. Saved her, perhaps in her mind. A fifteen year old child with someone double her age. Even Albus couldn't save him if that got out.
Shaking with poorly concealed rage, Severus shoved the young girl off her. Internally pleading for her to just let him be.
It never would be that easy. Not with her. Not with Lily Moon.
"It's not fair! You like her. Why not me?" She gestured wildly to the framed photo of his stand. Lily Evans, in all her wild haired beauty, stared back. "Daphne said-"
It was all too much.
"You are a child. A lonely, desperate little girl who is pretending she's worth my time. You are an insolent brat who thinks they deserve everything they want. No matter what lies your friends have been feeding you; You are nothing to me. You never will be. You never were. Get. Out."
She scrambled away, her promiscuously flared dress making it harder to leave with dignity, tears falling down her makeup'd face.
Magic crackling around the room, Severus Snape defeated and alone, rose his wand to cast his crime aloud.
"Expecto Patronum," The familiar doe considerably duller, but still present, stood protectively and comforting, "Albus Dumbledore. It is urgent."
It took only one sweeping gaze of his quarters before the Headmaster gave him a piercing, and deeply saddened, look.
"Severus. What have you done?"
5)
It was the start of a new year. 1995, Scotland. A surly man sat at the Staff table, sandwiched between an overly cheerful gardener and an overly cheerful giant. He glanced over at the Slytherin table, nodding at his godson and assessing his other students.
It was easy to replace the thermos with a black flask. It was easy to burn the lily. It was even easier to send the problem itself away.
You underestimate the simplicity of fabricating a scholarship to a more local Wizarding School, Dumbledore had said in reply to his issue.
Surprising Severus, simultaneously with the lengths the man goes to protect him, but also the speed at which the disappearance of Lily Moon was forgotten.