Author's note: It amuses me that this story is becoming more and more intricate. The original outline for Snape's Hogwarts years was one chapter consisting of his Sorting, the werewolf incident, the Mudblood incicent, and getting the Dark Mark. Obviously I've had to revise my outline since then—four times, to be specific. Anyway, I hope that you enjoy this chapter. Please review!

Guest: Shoot. That does sound familiar now that you mention it. Oh well. In any case, I'm glad you thought the Whomping Willow scene was okay. Maybe it just seemed clunky to me because I read and revised it so many times. And yes, spelling of Levicorpus was intentional, since he was still refining it. Although I'm happy with it, I confess that it pained me to write the scene by the lake. Poor Snape. Not his finest moment. Thanks for the review!

Weather changes: If all goes as planned, the next chapter will mostly be dedicated to him joining Voldemort :)

Warnings: Swearing

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I referenced pages 470-476 of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix while writing this.

Hogwarts: Years 5-6

August 1975: Summer

A bottle had exploded over Severus's head as he ran for the door, accompanied by a shout of what he interpreted as, "Don't come back!"

"I only need to stay the one night," he said apologetically.

"Are you sure?" Lily eyed him with a worried expression on her face. "I'm sure you could stay for longer if you want. Tuney is off at a summer camp, so you won't have to worry about her."

"It's fine." He shrugged. "Tobias is drunk enough that he won't remember anything once he's sober. You can tell when his words become intelligible. I can go back tomorrow."

March 1976: Fifth Year

"DEATH EATERS MASSACRE SINDHAM" read the front-page of The Daily Prophet, accompanied by a photograph of the carnage. The Great Hall was soon filled with distressed voices:

"Merlin, that's awful!"

"Why did they do it?"

"I have family in Sindham!"

"Can you believe it?"

"But why?"

Over at the Slytherin table, Mulciber shrugged. "Serves 'em right, doesn't it?"

Most of the snakes chose not to comment, but a few nodded in agreement. Others looked like they had differing opinions but knew they would be painting themselves as targets to say so.

As for Severus, he felt equal parts stunned and confused. While he didn't like muggles, he also didn't see the use in slaughtering an entire muggle village. This couldn't have been a revenge killing—that he could understand; he'd be lying if he said he hadn't had violent fantasies involving his father—which made him wonder, why bother?

Dear Lucius,

As I'm sure you have already seen, the massacre in Sindham made the news: The front page of the Prophet, and two more pages on top of that. Thus, everybody at Hogwarts is rather subdued today, even the teachers. A girl arrived late to Transfiguration, and all that Professor McGonagall said was, "Five points from Gryffindor. Take a seat." I don't think that anybody retained what they learned in class today, as half of the student population has been too busy bawling their eyes out. Professor Dumbledore gave a big speech about how we have to move on despite the tragedy. He said we're completely safe here at the school, but I think we may all drown in the tears of Hufflepuffs.

I was just wondering, do all of the Death Eaters participate in raids? Were you there? And why was Sindham targeted specifically?

Regards,

Severus Snape

Dear Severus,

I did indeed see that. It was a brilliant article, don't you think? Had it not seemed pathetically sentimental, I might even have saved it. That was our first major raid, and it went off without a hitch.

Though I speak in the plural, the answers to your first two questions are "no" and "no." Sadly, I was not chosen for that particular outing. As for Sindham, it was chosen because nobody with magical blood resides there. Perhaps the Dark Lord has a vendetta against the place, but if he does, I do not know of it. Either way, what is the loss of a few muggles?

It amuses me that even the fearsome lioness was shocked into silence. I would have enjoyed being a fly on the wall.

Sincerely,

Lucius Malfoy

Severus was reassured by the letter, to hear that not all the Death Eaters were chosen to go on raids. And of course, Lucius was right—the man hadn't gotten where he was by being wrong; what was a few muggles more or less?

June 1976: Fifth Year

Severus was studious under normal circumstances, but the time that he'd put into studying for O.W.L.s had exceeded his usual over-achieving efforts; unlike some he could name, he wasn't interested in just passing. Even when it was finished, he pored over the sheet of questions, mentally ticking off answers and worrying that he'd gotten one wrong.

This exam was no exception. Severus left his Defence Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. with his head still buried in the page, barely aware of his feet taking him outside. The only part of his surroundings to which he paid attention was Potter and Co., because he made a habit of keeping tabs on them at all times.

Once he was done obsessing, he got up and left the shade of the bushes, a favourite spot of his. He didn't make it halfway across the courtyard before he heard Potter call, "All right, Snivellus?"

In a single, well-practiced movement, Severus dropped his bag and pulled out his wand from the inside of his robes. But Potter had the advantage, his own wand already prepared, and Severus was easily disarmed.

Barking out a laugh, Black cast, "Impedimentia!" and knocked Severus off his feet, successfully foiling his attempt to retrieve his fallen wand.

The fight attracted a large number of students, who watched with varying reactions. Bitterly, as he lay panting on the ground, Severus noted that his Housemates made no move to help him.

"How'd the exam go, Snivelly?" Potter sneered.

"I was watching him," Black said, "his nose was touching the parchment. There'll be great grease marks all over it, they won't be able to read a word."

Severus struggled against the jinx as a ripple of laughter came from the spectators.

"You—wait," he spat out, meeting Potter's maliciously-gleaming brown eyes with his own smouldering black ones. "You—wait!"

"Wait for what?" Black taunted. "What're you going to do, Snivelly, wipe your nose on us?"

"Silencio, you arrogant bastard, Repurgare Capillos, Flipendo, fuck you, Sectumsempra, you're a goddamn swine, Amputo!" Due to the fact that his wand still lay in the grass ten feet away, Severus's incantations did nothing. Furiously, he promised himself that he would learn to do wandless magic some day if it killed him.

"Wash out your mouth," Potter said, unimpressed. "Scourgify!"

Severus immediately began gagging as soap filled his mouth, frothing and tasting more vile than any potion that Madam Pomfrey had ever forced him to take.

From a bit farther away, he heard a familiar voice yell, "Leave him alone!"

Knowing that Lily was watching made Severus's face flush. Her presence had the opposite effect on Potter, who suddenly sounded much more mature when he next spoke.

"All right, Evans?"

"Leave him alone." Severus could hear the glare in her voice. "What's he done to you?"

"Well, it's more the fact that he exists, if you know what I mean…."

The feeling is mutual, he wanted to say, but couldn't due to the mouthful of soapsuds.

"You think you're funny, but you're just an arrogant, bullying toerag, Potter. Leave him alone."

"I will if you go out with me, Evans." Severus sputtered again, even though the bubbles were dying down. The nerve...! "Go on, go out with me and I'll never lay a wand on old Snivelly again."

To his relief, Lily said, "I wouldn't go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid."

"Bad luck, Prongs." Black clapped his friend on the shoulder, missing how Severus had begun inching towards his wand, the Impediment Jinx wearing off.

Sectumsempra, Severus cast silently, and a gash appeared on the side of Potter's face. The effect wasn't half as extreme as he would have liked to be. He would improve that later. At least he could do it nonverbally.

Potter wasted no time retaliating. "Levicorpus!"

In the next second, Severus was upside-down in the air, hanging by his ankles from an invisible rope. His black robes fell over his head, obscuring his view of the crowd. It didn't matter. He could hear them anyway. Some of the students went so far as to cheer. Closing his eyes, he tried to ignore the heated emotions coursing through him, much like he did when he was trying to block out his father's abuse.

Still, despite his best attempts, thoughts bounced around his head: How dare Potter use his own spell against him? What else had escaped his secrecy? He was going to start writing his spells in his textbooks and then warding them. Maybe there was a way to make the book bite the fingers off of anybody who tried to touch it—or another part of the anatomy, which would be so much fun if it were one of the Marauders….

"Let him down!" Lily's demand brought him out of his head.

"Certainly," Potter said cockily, and Severus fell to a crumpled heap on the ground.

He disentangled himself from his robes and rose to his feet—and then Black said, "Petrificus Totalus," and he keeled over again.

It felt like the whole school had assembled in the background to watch his humiliation. He was never going to live this down. He would be the laughing stock of Slytherin. Again.

"Leave him alone!"

Sounding possibly the sincerest that Severus had ever heard him, Potter said, "Ah, Evans, don't make me hex you."

"Take the curse off him, then!"

Sighing dramatically, Potter acquiesced, muttering the counter-curse and allowing Severus to clamber to his feet.

"There you go," Potter said, the nasty inflection back in his voice. "You're lucky Evans was here, Snivellus."

Severus could see Avery and Mulciber in the front row of the watching students, grinning like idiots, finding his misfortune hilarious and the fact that a muggleborn girl had saved his ass even more hilarious, in a pathetic sort of way. His attention was still on his Housemates as he snarled the first thing that came to mind: "I don't need help from filthy Mudbloods like her!"

Fuck. The expression on Lily's face instantly made him regret the words. "Filthy little Mudbloods" was a phrase often heard in the Slytherin common room, and he had chosen the worst possible time and place to try it out. It didn't give him any satisfaction.

"Fine," Lily said coolly. "I won't bother in the future. And I'd wash your pants if I were you, Snivellus."

He felt like someone had stuck him to the ground with a Sticking Charm; he wanted to run over Lily and beg her to forgive him, but he couldn't make his legs work.

"Apologize to Evans!"

"I don't want you to make him apologize." Lily rounded on Potter. "You're as bad as he is."

Through Severus's disbelief at himself, his anger rekindled at the thought of being lumped in the same category as James Potter.

"What? I'd never call you a- you-know-what!"

"Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can—I'm surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me sick!" To finish her irate monologue, Lily turned on her heel and stalked away.

"Evans! Hey, Evans!"

But she didn't look back, and Severus couldn't go after her, because he was still frozen to the spot in horror at what had just transpired.

August 1976: Summer

Cobb & Webb's, Moribund's, Trackleshanks Locksmith, Markus Scarrs Indelible Tattoos… Severus took in the names of the shops around him. Compared to Diagon Alley, Knockturn Alley seemed like a whole new world; whereas the former was bright and loud and full of life, the latter was dingy and dimly-lit, and the people there scurried around like they had something to hide. And they probably did.

This year marked the first time that Severus had gone back-to-school shopping alone. In the past, he'd gone with Lily and her family, but she hadn't spoken to him since the night he threatened to sleep outside the Gryffindor Tower, and he'd finally stopped trying to apologize. If she wanted to be like that, then fine. He didn't care—or he pretended not to. The solitude, though, allowed Severus to make a detour that Lily most certainly would not have approved of.

Lucius had recommended a bookshop, a small store called Metu's Tomes, which was located at the farthest end of Knockturn Alley. Metu's Tomes turned out difficult to find, as it was tucked between two larger and newer-looking establishments.

This place should have been condemned ten years ago, Severus thought as he shoved at the door. It took four tries before the rusty hinges finally gave way and let him in.

Metu's Tomes was possibly the most run-down thing that he had seen in Knockturn Alley, which really said something. The interior wasn't any better than the exterior: A single lamp cast a sickly, greenish-blue light. Spiders seemed to like the place very much. The air was damp, as if there were a hole in the roof and it had rained recently, and there was a distinct smell of mould and mildew.

Severus sighed inwardly. Lucius had spoken highly of the store's book selection, but Lucius hadn't warned him about how decrepit the store was. Probably because the Malfoy heir thought that it would be funny to hear Severus's first impressions, which were less than complimentary. Severus figured that this is what the house on Spinner's End might look like if left uninhabited for a quarter century.

"Well, well, well. And what brings you here? You're young to be venturing this way. So very, very young. You must have a good reason. They usually do."

A thin, balding man wizard sat hunched-over behind a small counter, which looked like it'd give you splinters if you touched it. For some reason, the man made Severus think of a twisted Garrick Ollivander, the Dr. Jekyll to Ollivander's Mr. Hyde, like in the muggle story.

"A friend recommended I come here," Severus said after a pause. "He said that this is the place to find books of an 'obscure and socially frowned-upon nature.' I've just come to browse."

The man, whom Severus assumed was Morrible Metu, grinned a wide, predatory grin. "That it is," he said silkily. "Browse away."

Feeling self-conscious with Metu's eyes on him, Severus stepped behind a tall, haphazard stack of books to read their titles. The books didn't seem to be in alphabetical order—or any sort of order, for that matter. Ten Types of Untraceable Poisons, Necromancy and the Goblin Rebellion of 1622, Dark Arts for the Decidedly Deviant, Mind Arts-

Severus's interest was piqued by the simple title and the gold lettering, which wasn't as faded as some of the others. He carefully removed the book from the pile. There was no picture on the cover, just "The Mind Arts: Blocking Out and Breaking In" written in the same blocked script as was on the spine. He wrinkled his nose at the cloud of dust that appeared when he opened the book.

"The Mind Arts is a highly-focused stream of magic," said the preface, "which can be divided into the two subcategories of Occlumency, the sub-titular 'blocking out,' and Legilimency, the sub-titular 'breaking in,' both of which are rarely innate and exceedingly difficult to learn, even for the most competent wizards and witches."

It seemed like a good book, Severus thought as he read on, if you ignored the author's pretention and winding sentences. Moreover, it seemed like a useful book: "A clear mind and the ability to maintain that clarity during times of stress is the most crucial step to becoming an Occlumens"—well, he had been trying to clear his mind in the face of his father's rages for as long as he could remember. Perhaps this book could help him out.

September 1976: Sixth Year

He had finally been invited to join the "Slug Club," as the students called the group. It wasn't as great as Severus had imagined it back in first year. When he was eleven, being "collected" by Professor Slughorn had seemed like a mark of worthiness; now, not so much. In fact, he had only attended a few of the meetings before opting out. He got the impression that he was at the bottom of the totem pole, the least favourite of Slughorn's favourites; to make matters worse, Lily Evans was definitely at the top of that totem pole, and she refused to do so much as glance at him.

Dear Lucius,

Potions class bores me. I don't even pay attention anymore; it's not as though Professor Slughorn has anything to teach me. I've read every Potions book in the Hogwarts library, and now, instead of taking notes, I spend the duration of Slughorn's lectures coming up with ideas for new potions and spells. It seems like a better use of my time than listening to Professor Slughorn drone on. He seems as bad as Professor Binns now!

In other news, I am rejecting everything to do with the muggle portion of my heritage. It may seem silly, but I've christened myself "The Half-Blood Prince," because I'd rather think that I'm part of the Prince family than part of the Snape family. See, Eileen Prince was a pureblood before she married Tobias. (I don't understand why she did it. We're stuck with him now. He tells her that she's good for nothing, but he's one to talk. Apparently he hasn't looked in a mirror lately.) She probably got burned off of the family tapestry, like how you said the Blacks burned Andromeda off when she married that muggleborn.

Speaking of the Blacks, congratulations to you and Narcissa on your engagement.

Regards,

Severus

Dear Severus,

Thank you for your congratulations. Cissa passes along her thanks, too. We are both very pleased with the arrangement, as are our respective families.

It's a shame that sitting in Potions is such a waste of time. Perhaps you could take the N.E.W.T. early and be done with it. It might be worth asking Slughorn or McGonagall about, although whether or not they would understand how effective self-study can be is questionable.

It is wonderful to hear that you have decided to shun muggles. You deserve your own congratulations for that; many never escape the delusion that muggles and wizards are equal. I support your decision wholeheartedly.

On a similar note, I have been rising in the ranks of the Death Eaters and believe that I could get you an audience with the Dark Lord. It might take me a while to convince him, but I'm sure that I could do it. Let me know what you think.

Sincerely,

Lucius Malfoy

January 1977: Sixth Year

The raids continued. The teachers tried to act as though nothing were happening, but nobody in Hogwarts was immune to the political tension growing outside the school. Although the Death Eater attacks still made the news every time, Severus had stopped paying attention. They didn't affect him, he figured, and nor did they deter him from wanting to join the Death Eaters. Lucius had said that not all of them had to participate in the raids, and surely not all of the Death Eaters were such rabid blood purists, if Lucius thought that Severus could join the ranks despite being a half-blood. In his mind, it was the usual problem with newspapers: They reported the minority of bad news because the majority of less-bad stuff wouldn't sell.

So he distanced himself from the whole mess, assisted by the book on Mind Arts—he'd managed to purchase it by bargaining with Morrible Metu—and its section on Occlumency.

August 1977: Summer

Tobias was pounding on his bedroom door again, screaming profanities as per usual. Severus wished for his father to get caught in the midst of a Death Eater massacre. Returning to the house on Spinner's End would be tolerable if it weren't for Tobias; then memories would be the only thing there to torture him.

Sighing and sitting down at his old desk—he still locked the door and blocked it with his trunk, but he no longer cowered in the corner when Tobias was outside—he set out a fresh sheet of parchment.

"Dear Lucius," he wrote. "You mentioned once that you could work on getting me an audience with the Dark Lord if I so desired. Does your offer still stand?"