Severus turned seventeen on January 9th, right after the winter holiday ended. There were no presents, no cake, no friends to celebrate his coming of age, just a lonely, quiet satisfaction. His parents had not sent anything, nor did he expect them to. Whenever he did receive an owl from his mother, it was always a perfunctory, impersonal message which he returned in the same manner.
It was Saturday, so that meant he had the day to devote to his own personal studies. He ate a piece of toast in the Great Hall before quickly leaving for the library, doing his best to evade anyone who might see him retreating to his dark shadows of his haven. He made it inside the library, which was, as he expected, deserted. He nodded to Madame Pince, who glanced up at the youth, but exhibited no other outward signs of recognition as Severus walked straight to the restricted section and stepped over the rope that separated it from the entire library.
Familiar smells of the old books overwhelmed him, and he immediately felt more at ease in his surroundings. There was little to light the section, but Severus knew his way around the bookshelves that twisted into mazes in the darkness. He ran his long fingers across the spines of books he had read through in his years in Hogwarts, careful to skip the volumes who were prone to attacking potential readers. He walked through the labyrinth of shelves for a few minutes, making several twists and turns, before coming to a spot that he frequented almost weekly. He had reached the section where most of the advanced potions books were located.
"Lumos," he whispered, feeling that to speak out loud would break a sort of reverence he held for the books. A soft glow eminated from the wand, and Severus immediately began to scan the titles, looking for something that appealed to him. He found Devastatingly Awful Concoctions by Merla Whitlin and pulled it off the shelf, turning it over in his hands several times before actually opening it to a random page, where a woman's eyes had been replaced by what looked to be some sort of insects. Unneccessary, Severus though, but creative. While admiring the life-like illustrations writhe around on the page, something caught his attention.
Two voices, whispering to each other rapidly. Severus moved quietly towards them, a curse at the tip of his tongue. As they came closer, he recognized who the voices belonged to- perhaps the people he would like least to meet at all- James Potter and Sirius Black.