I was only teasing him, sir, I only said I'd seen him kissing

Florence behind the greenhouses last Thursday

This vignette isn't part of the seven part series that starts with "Why Snape never eats here" – it's just an unpleasant little story that helps to explain how Snape became the seedy, damaged individual he is in my version of the Potterverse. I had to write it after making so many snide references to Florence, the girl whose surname no one can remember.

Chapter 1: Severus

He's skipping his classes and he's lurking in his favourite nook in the Library, next to the Restricted Section, it's been his bolthole since his first few days at Hogwarts, the place where he's spent most of the time when he wasn't in class or in the Slytherin Common Room with his gang, but they've all left now. Rosier and Wilkes, the last of his close friends, left at the end of last year, at the end of his sixth year, and he doesn't really like any of the Slytherins in his classes or many of the sixth years either, they're all as dumb as dogshit except for Mehitabel, so he mostly hangs around with a couple of fifth years, Regulus Black and Barty Crouch. Regulus is a bit wet but he'd taken the kid under his wing years ago, when it became clear that his brother Sirius was going to give him a hard time for being sorted into Slytherin, and Barty's OK, he suspects that Bartemius Crouch junior might have a bit more to him than first appears.

The nook is his safe place, there's only room for one student at the tiny desk, he's got a wall at his back and the gates to the Restricted Section at one side, magic in the Library is strictly prohibited, and if anyone broke that rule the books in the Restricted Section would go ballistic. And for years Lily Evans and her girlfriends have used the big table nearby, he can listen to her voice, occasionally look up and see her face, and snigger at the put-downs she's dished out to James bloody Potter ... but she's rarely at that table now, she's usually with Potter ... James fucking Potter, and other students have started using the table, often giggling inane girls who occasionally have the presumption to bother him, to ask him imbecile questions about their Potions homework.

He's thinking, shit, shit, shit, I am in so much trouble ... this means the Headmaster's office, it won't just be a rap over the knuckles from old Slughorn. Hexing Bertha Jorkins isn't such a big deal, I didn't use anything serious, she really looked a mess but it wasn't a bone-breaking curse, it wasn't a slicing hex, it wasn't Sectumsempra, I didn't really hurt her, but she is a girl, I've never hexed a girl before, and what has she told them about Florence? And what is Florence saying about me? Dumbledore must have owled her parents by now, she'll be in trouble too if she tells the truth. What if she says it was rape? After what I said to her in the Great Hall, she might say that ... and they would believe her, the sweet pretty little Hufflepuff girl who's never had a detention in her life, they wouldn't believe me, I'm a filthy Slytherin, Dumbledore made it pretty clear what he thinks of me last year, the Marauders tried to kill me and they didn't even lose points! Oh shit, if she says that, it won't just be expulsion, it will be Azkaban, and it will all come out, the truth about my filthy Muggle father and the squalid dump we live in, it'll probably make the Daily Prophet.

And then he thinks of something even worse, what if she's pregnant? Sweet Merlin, he'll have to marry her, just like his father had to marry his mother, he'd worked that out a long time ago, it wasn't hard, putting together his parents' wedding anniversary, his birthday – the 9th of January – and his father's drunken rants about the "deceitful bitch". And if he has to marry her, he can kiss goodbye to all his hopes of making something of himself ... he hadn't even thought about contraception, girls took care of that, didn't they? Mehitabel did, she's in sixth year, the year below him, she's Captain and Seeker of the Slytherin Quidditch Team, and giving Potter a real run for his money this season, and she's the one who taught him that if a girl asks for help with her Potions assignment, what she really means is a quick shag in the broom cupboard in the corridor round the corner past the Slytherin Common Room door. Bloody Mehitabel, she's no Slytherin princess, not like Narcissa Black - or Narcissa Malfoy as she's been for over a year now - no, Mehitabel is a Slytherin queen, queen bitch. She's the most attractive girl in Slytherin House, she doesn't have a boyfriend, she has a bevy of admirers in every House and she doesn't belong to any of them, and she'd relieved him of the burden of his virginity in something less than three minutes.

Mehitabel! She's the real reason why he's in this mess, it's true that he hadn't actually asked her to go to Hogsmeade that weekend with him, he'd just assumed that they'd go together because for the previous fortnight she'd spent practically every night in his bed - thank god Hogwarts didn't have Muggle beds, it had old fashioned four-posters with curtains that you could draw, because there was no way that he was going to get into bed with a girl if there was a chance that someone was watching. Hell, he knew Mehitabel had been with plenty of boys before him, including Sirius Black, and it wasn't like they were engaged, not like the Gryffindor lovebirds James Potter and Lily Evans, but they were a couple, right?

So when he'd seen her walking down the steps of the Entrance Hall, arm in arm with Sirius Black, chatting and laughing with James and Lily, his heart had nearly stopped – and Lily had to see it, had to see the look on his face before he could wipe it off, and she'd looked saddened and sympathetic, but that had only churned him up even more. Oh yes, he'd had it out with Mehitabel when she got back from Hogsmeade, she'd said she was just psyching Potter out for next week's Gryffindor-Slytherin match, and who she spent time with was none of his business anyway, she was no man's property and it was going to stay that way, whether she played Quidditch professionally or went into the Auror Corps, she wasn't getting married and ending up as a doormat like her bloody mother, thank you very much! He'd got an earful, and now she isn't talking to him, let alone sleeping with him. So he'd gone back to sulking in the Library, as miserable and lonely as hell, trying to revise for the NEWTs but all he could think of was girls, girls, girls ...

Lily, who he'd stuffed up with in fifth year, during the OWLs, he'd called her a filthy Mudblood that awful day by the Lake when Potter had threatened to take his underpants off – he flexes his fingers a little at that memory, the rage and hate is strong enough to fuel the Killing Curse - by the time he'd really got to know Lily in old Slughorn's special advanced tutorials for "my two most brilliant NEWT students" she was already going out with Potter and completely besotted with the arrogant prick, but they'd become friends, for what that was worth, and she was Muggle-born anyway, his position as a half-blood – if they ever found out about his stinking Muggle father – was too precarious for him to get mixed up with a Muggle-born Gryffindor. Yes, they were friends, but she was still the most beautiful girl in the school and he wanted her so much that it ached. Lily was really something, not that he was in love with her or anything, but it was galling to see her throwing herself away on that arsehole Potter, he wasn't good enough for her, and she didn't know what he was really like, what a brute he was. He thinks, oh yes, Potter made sure there were no witnesses that day in third year when he broke my nose, fucking hell that hurt, I can still remember it, if Potter ever, ever hits Lily I'll kill him, I swear I'll kill him, if I ever see her with a bruise on her face or her arm, I'll kill him.

Mehitabel, well he doesn't care about that bitch at all, she's just one of Sirius Black's molls anyway and her politics are bullshit, she doesn't like that bloke Voldemort that Lucius supports, she'd said, "Look Severus, I know you think Slughorn is a tedious old poof but he's very well connected, he's got his finger on the pulse, and he doesn't like Voldemort. I admit that it sounds good, putting the other Houses in their place and sorting out the Muggles and Mudbloods but Voldemort is going to get us Slytherins into trouble, people don't like his methods and we're the ones who are going to get covered in crap when it all goes horribly wrong." He tells himself, I don't care about Mehitabel, she's a total slut, but he knows that if she asks him to "help her with her Potions assignment" again, he won't say no.

Then there's Florence, a half-blood Hufflepuff fifth year, he'd started to notice her a while ago, she always seemed to be sitting at Lily's old table when he was in the Library, sometimes alone and sometimes with friends, at first he'd been pissed off that she was using Lily's table, he'd given her a few filthy glares, and then he'd realised that she was really very pretty, strawberry blonde hair and big blue eyes, hard to tell under the robes but her body looked more the type that he liked, Mehitabel was a bit too slim and athletic for his taste. Florence was built more like Lily, and one day when he'd brushed past her he'd glanced down, her robes were loose, and he'd got a good look, was that bit of lace a Muggle bra?

No wonder the pureblood Slytherin boys were fascinated by Muggle females, every witch over the age of eleven was swaddled in robes, and there was scarcely any difference between wizards' robes and witches' robes. The purebloods didn't know much about Muggles but they knew that Muggle females flaunted their bodies in skimpy clothing and they thought they were easy ... big mistake, going by the Muggle prick teasing bitch he'd had dealings with over the last summer holidays. He'd sat down at his desk, his heart pounding, and knowing his face had gone that unpleasant brick colour, she must know that he'd looked ... but after that he'd often sneaked a quick look at her, and plenty of times she looked back.

And then, only last Thursday afternoon, Lupin had come into the Library and asked Florence if she knew where Lily was, as if the werewolf didn't bloody know! Gryffindor Quidditch practice, Lily would be down at the pitch watching James showing off on his broom, bastard, and so would Mehitabel, checking out Potter's moves, and snogging with Black. His stomach had knotted at the thought, and then Florence had come over to him and asked him to help her with her Potions assignment, she has to write three feet of parchment on the uses of asphodel ... bloody hell, could that mean what he thinks it means? But Florence is a prim and proper Hufflepuff, not a shameless Slytherin slut like Mehitabel, maybe it doesn't mean anything. He'd looked into her eyes but his Legilimency skills are still rudimentary and he needs his wand for the spell anyway, so he can't tell ... he'd told her a few things about asphodel, and by Merlin she doesn't need any help with her Potions assignment, she'd leaned over and kissed him, very tentatively. He hadn't needed a second invitation, he'd kissed her back, and very enthusiastically, without even taking the precaution of looking around to check that no one was watching.

He'd wanted to do a lot more than kissing, and it was a beautiful spring day, so he'd suggested that they walk down to the greenhouses, he'll show her where the asphodel grows, it's used in a lot of healing potions, and one of the things that he and Lily do for extra NEWT credit is brew up batches of healing potions for the Hospital Wing. She was as eager to get out of the Library as he was, and so they'd walked down together, he'd looked down his long nose at her and thought, she's tiny, she hardly comes up to my shoulder, and he'd had to shorten his normally long strides so that she could keep up.

She'd chattered on about how she wants to apprentice as a Healer at St Mungo's - how Hufflepuff can you get! – and about her family, her mother is the Muggle parent, she'd told him her mother is a university lecturer and he couldn't help but be impressed, his father worked at the mill until it closed and now he doesn't do anything – except drink. She'd started to explain what a university was, so he'd told her, "I took an OWL in Muggle Studies," and it's true, it had been an annoying waste of a subject - he'd rather have taken Divination than Muggle Studies - but necessary, if he lets anything drop about the Muggle world that a pureblood shouldn't know, he can always say he'd picked it up in Muggle Studies. The other Slytherins had been a bit surprised, but he'd said, know your enemy, and Lucius had been amused – and interested in getting his hands on some Muggle magazines, the kind that had photos of beautiful girls in bikinis.

When they were round the back of Greenhouse Three and out of sight of the castle, Florence had been no more interested in the asphodel than he was ... but he didn't want any misunderstandings, so though he'd slipped his hand under her robes he hadn't dared to unfasten them, she did that, and holy hell she is wearing a lacy Muggle bra. He was astonished, the little Hufflepuff is as bold as Mehitabel, she's taking the bra off, she's gorgeous, and she's touching him, he's a bit unsure of what to do next, after all she's only the second girl he's been with, but he does the things that Mehitabel has taught him that she likes, and Florence seems to like it, too. But when it's his turn she seems a little nervous, she's really tight, and for a moment he's worried that he's hurting her, but he soon forgets about that, forgets about everything, forgets that he hasn't cast even a Disillusionment Charm.

Afterwards, she'd cuddled up to him, and it was kind of nice, she was really warm and soft, like a kitten, not that he's ever had a kitten, but then she had to spoil it all by babbling how she loves him. She loves him, what sickening rot, that's what his mother says to his father, not that it does her any good, she still gets a thumping. For a moment he'd been so angry his hand had curled into a fist and he'd wanted to hit her, but it's a self-imposed rule he hasn't broken since he started at Hogwarts, he never hits anyone, only Muggles use their fists, a wizard uses spells, and he's not like his father, he doesn't hit girls.

His father! He's of age now, if his father ever raises his hand against him again, if his father ever hits his mother again, he's going to really hurt the filthy Muggle. He knows the spell he'd like to use – crucio – it doesn't leave a mark, oh yes that's the one. He'd like to practice that spell more often than he gets the chance but he daren't, not on Hogwarts grounds, it's an Unforgiveable Curse, not even the Aurors are authorised to use it. He's been in the Headmaster's office a few times, and he knows very well what some of those pretty silver trinkets are, Dark magic detectors, Dumbledore would know if anyone used an Unforgiveable at Hogwarts. And who would be the first suspect, who would be the first person to be hauled up to Dumbledore's office? Severus Snape, the greasy oddball, notorious for his interest in the Dark Arts ...

He'd got a grip on himself, and he'd just put his hand over her mouth, and thank Merlin she had the good sense to shut up and lie quietly next to him. And when he'd calmed down, he'd wanted her again, and she seemed willing, he'd slid his hand up her thigh, and then he'd found blood on his fingers, and realised that she is - was - a virgin, and his first thought was, fucking hell, she's underage, she's only sixteen, I'm going to be in trouble for this, and his second thought was, at least she's not one of Sirius Black's left-overs, like Mehitabel, she's mine. He'd felt fiercely possessive, and even a little tender towards her, and as sure as hell he wasn't going to let anyone else touch her, there are spells for that sort of thing, they're part of pureblood wedding ceremonies, he'll do a little research ... another reason for purebloods to despise half-bloods, a Muggle can't enter into a wizarding marriage ceremony so technically all half-bloods are bastards ...

He'd let her hold his hand as they walked back to the castle but as they approached the steps to the Entrance Hall he'd spotted Lupin lurking around, why wasn't he down at the Quidditch pitch with the rest of the Marauders? He'd have liked to flaunt his ownership of such a desirable little thing to the werewolf but he's not sure about being seen with her in public, a Hufflepuff and a half-blood to boot, he's not sure what the other Slytherins will think. And there is Lucius to consider, he greatly admires Lucius, and Lucius is a very important part of his plan for putting maximum distance between himself and Spinner's End, Lucius takes blood purity very seriously, Lucius is always saying that a half-blood is only one step up from a filthy Mudblood. Nevertheless, instinctively, he'd made sure that he was always between Florence and the werewolf, even though it is still a week until full moon, he doesn't trust the brute.

The werewolf! Oh, it looks harmless enough, even friendly, but he's seen it transformed, felt its hot breath, been sprayed by its disgusting slobber, he'd nearly screamed then, he'd had to hold hard to the knowledge that the infection doesn't spread unless the teeth break the skin to prevent himself from panicking. The thing is foul, unclean – and Dumbledore made it a prefect. He'd thought, bitterly, Dumbledore didn't make me a prefect, oh no, I've had too many detentions for fighting with Potter and Black, I'm a troublemaker. He'd remembered the first fight he'd had with Black, Black had insulted him, suggested that he was a Mudblood, he'd disarmed Black, and then the thug had tried to punch him, and he'd defended himself with a bone-breaking curse that had smashed every bone in Black's right arm and hand. He'd thought, if you're Slytherin you've only got to make one little mistake, I got a lecture from Dumbledore that went for hours and a week's detention for that, but Black didn't get into trouble ... and Black didn't get into trouble for trying to feed me to the werewolf, either. And what about Potter, Dumbledore made him Head Boy! Not for the first time, he'd wondered if it was all a set-up, a stunt to make the Golden Gryffindor look good, saving the life of his worst enemy ... nah, the Marauders aren't smart enough to think up something like that, they're idiot Gryffindorks.

So he'd pulled his hand away from hers, but he does want to see her again, and soon, and so before they parted it was agreed that they would meet after dinner up on the Astronomy Tower. The Tower is pretty safe, lots of secluded corners, and it will be dark, cold too perhaps but he knows how to cast a warming charm, that's piss-easy first year stuff.

He'd strolled down to the Slytherin Common Room, thinking, maybe these last few months at Hogwarts won't be so bad, I've just got to get through the NEWTs and then I'm out of here and I'm never coming back ... I don't have to go back to Spinner's End, either, Lucius said I could stay with him and Narcissa until I get myself sorted out. And I don't have to see Florence after I graduate, I'll be in London training to be a Gringotts curse breaker and she'll still be at Hogwarts, and what Lucius doesn't know won't hurt him - really, there's no reason why I shouldn't take what she's offering ...

Then he'd forgotten all about Florence, because it was time to meet Lily down in the dungeons, and they were working on something really interesting, a potion to transform the drinker into his or her Animagus form, a really neat potion – why sweat for years to master the Animagus transformation when any half-decent wizard can brew a potion that will do the job in a mere moon cycle? If their potion is up to scratch, Slughorn is going to let the whole class try it – the rest of the class are brewing the antidote, which is a lot less complex. He and Lily have been having a lot of fun, trying to predict what everyone's Animagus form will be, he'd guessed that she would be a vixen, and she'd guessed that he would be a wolf, which had made him scowl for a minute, but he couldn't stay angry with her, Lily was really something - clever, funny and tough – and he'd trusted her enough to tell her he was a half-blood, so they could talk about Muggle stuff together, movies they'd both seen, books and music ...

Life had been pretty good for the past few days, Florence couldn't get enough of him, it was flattering how eager she was to meet him in the evenings, and he wasn't getting tired of her, no, not at all. She'd realised that he didn't want to talk, it was enough afterwards just to hold her, enough to hold her warm little body against his, and to wrap his cloak around them both. He usually didn't get back to the Slytherin Common Room until it was nearly midnight, and it was deeply gratifying to see how Mehitabel was both puzzled and pissed off that he was no longer interested in her, she was welcome to Sirius Black as far as he was concerned, if Black wanted a girl who'd fucked half of Hogwarts he could have her.

Yes, life had been good until this morning - or as good as it could be, given that he was still at school - and now he is facing expulsion, at best, and while he can't wait to get away from Hogwarts, he really, really doesn't want to get expelled. If he's expelled, they'll break his wand, he'll never be able to get another, and he'll have to spend his life as a Muggle. The thought is unbearable, he's trembling with rage and the anger causes the vein to throb in his temple, if Dumbledore expels him, he's not going alone, he'll bring the werewolf down with him, and if he's lucky, Black and Potter as well. He thinks, you bastard, Dumbledore, they wouldn't sack you even for letting a werewolf into the school, but Abraxas Malfoy is on the Board of Governors, Lucius might be able to get his father to make it hot for you .., if Lucius is still my friend after this.

Hell, if he's expelled, he might do worse than that, Azkaban could hardly be more horrible than life as a Muggle ... and as the Muggles say, you may as well be hung for a sheep as for a lamb. His hand clenches around his wand, a few green sparks shower from the tip, and a couple of the books in the Restricted Section start to rattle their chains. He whispers Avada kedavra, he knows the curse even though he's never used it, maybe he'll use it today, on Potter, Black and Lupin ... Pettigrew, too, the dirty little rat has never dared to hex him, but he practically wets himself with excitement whenever Potter or Black do.

Oh yes, the Marauders must be getting a kick out of this, they were all at breakfast this morning, they'd seen it all ... he'd gone up to breakfast in a very bad mood, he wasn't a morning person at any time, and there'd been a problem with the Animagus potion that had taken him until two o'clock in the morning to sort out, but even half-asleep he'd noticed the buzz that went around the Great Hall when he walked in. What the hell was going on? Then the morning post had arrived, and with it, Lucius' eagle owl, with a letter for him. He'd ripped the letter open, and then he'd been wide awake at once. Merlin's beard, what was Lucius saying about "delighted to hear of your impending nuptials"? He'd scanned the letter, he could hear Lucius' cool, malicious, aristocratic voice as he read the words, "my dear Severus, I would have thought you could do better than a half-blood Hufflepuff," and he'd thought, the story has got to London and back overnight, what has the bitch been saying? It was just sex on the Astronomy Tower, it didn't mean anything, I didn't promise her anything, what game is she playing at? He'd looked up, and Mehitabel had smiled wickedly at him and said, "Watch out, Severus, badgers mate for life, you'll be married with three kids before you know it," and then he'd stormed over to the Hufflepuff table to find Florence.

He'd dragged her away from the girlfriends clustered around her and cast Muffliato, it was strange how he'd been totally aware of everything around him, aware of the two Hufflepuff seventh year boys with their wands out, looking at him as if they'd like to hex him into a thousand slimy pieces, like that bothered him, he could deal with them; McGonagall looking towards him from the teachers' dias, the sharp eyed old cat has spotted that something's going on; and Lupin skulking around, but he wasn't aware of exactly what he was saying to Florence though he could see in her eyes the effect that his words were having on her. Then he'd realised that the werewolf had come close enough to touch him, was reaching out his hand ... he'd let go of Florence and spun around, his wand raised, his lips curled back, if Lupin touches him he'll really let him have it, Sectumsempra or something even worse. Lupin was saying something, "Leave Florence alone, Severus, she didn't say anything, it was Bertha Jorkins."

Bertha Jorkins! The biggest gossip and snoop in the school, what a credit to Gryffindor she is, she definitely has more guts than brains if she's been trying to get him into strife, and he'd known where to find her, she was in Lily's Charms class. He'd caught up with her on a staircase halfway between the Great Hall and Flitwick's classroom, and she'd had the nerve to lie, she'd said, "I only told people I'd seen you kissing Florence behind the greenhouses." Kissing! It was a lot more than kissing, she must have seen everything, the dirty-minded spying cow, yes, and sniggered to everyone about what she'd seen. She definitely needed to be taught a lesson, so he'd hit her with a couple of basic curses in quick succession, Jelly-Legs and Furnunculus, and that had knocked her out and covered her with nasty little tentacles, yes she'd really looked a mess, oh what a pity it wasn't going to be permanent. Then he'd looked up and seen Lily, and thought, fuck, Lily knows, and what does she think of me now?

So he'd lost his nerve and bolted to the Library and he's been here ever since, and now it's midmorning and no one has come near him, why hasn't someone come to tell him to go up to the Headmaster's office? Maybe someone won't be coming to tell him to go up to the Headmaster's office, maybe Dumbledore has sent for the Aurors to arrest him. Florence must hate him now, after the things he said to her in the Great Hall, and if she says it was rape Dumbledore will have sent for the Aurors. Merlin, he is in so much trouble ... and what kind of a pig will Lily think he is? But she knows him, knows he wouldn't do anything like that, she trusts him, they've been alone together heaps of times and he's never laid a finger on her, she won't believe it, surely she won't believe it ...

Then someone does come to find him, it's his Head of House, Professor Slughorn, and even though Slughorn has always been decent to him, never tried to squelch his interest in the Dark Arts like the other teachers, and even taught him some stuff that isn't on the curriculum, he's so angry and afraid that he raises his wand and crouches back into his nook, as tense and dangerous as a trapped wolf. He thinks, wildly, damn you, Slughorn, you stupid old queer, you've never stood up for me against the Gryffindor glamour boys, Potter and Black, and you won't stand up for me now, if you've come to tell me to pack my things, if you tell me that I'm expelled ... I'll do it, I swear I'll do it, one powerful Dark spell so close to the Restricted Section will cause an explosion that will destroy half the Library, and I'll do it, just give me a reason and I'll do it.

Unbelievably, Slughorn is smiling, he's ignoring the raised wand, and he's saying something in a breezy, cheerful tone, "I don't know how you did it, my boy, but you've come out of this smelling of roses, the Headmaster thinks that you've acted like a gentleman, defending a lady's honour. The little lady in question is in the Hospital Wing, suffering from shock, and Professor Dumbledore is blaming Miss Jorkins for it - for spreading malicious gossip. Dear me, Miss Jorkins is in more trouble than you are!"

He slumps across his desk with relief, Florence hasn't said anything, he isn't going to be expelled, and Jorkins is in more trouble than he is! A Gryffindor is in trouble! Sweet Merlin, there is a god! And Dumbledore's not as smart as he thought he was, the old man must be losing his grip ... he's not getting off scot free, though, Slughorn is waggling a finger at him, telling him that he expects seventh years to have grown out of hexing each other in the corridors. He'll have to serve a double detention with Hagrid, help him to set trap lines for blood-sucking bugbears, but that's nothing. It's all rather entertaining, really, he'll send an owl to Lucius this afternoon, let him know that the Hufflepuff half-blood girl was just a few days' amusement.

He feels a prickle of shame at the thought of Florence in the Hospital Wing, and a prickle of regret, too, he won't be meeting her on the Astronomy Tower after dinner again, not after what he said to her in the Great Hall. But then he thinks, plenty of girls ask me for help with their Potions assignments, and from now on I'll just be more careful, once caught twice shy as the Muggle saying goes, and it was all her fault anyway, she should have thought about what she was getting into before she put her hand down my trousers.