The Art of Snape
Chapter 1
By Taylor Huff
Severus Snape.
Potions Master. Magic user. Defender against the Dark Arts. Severus Snape was a titled man. And not without reason.
Spell Maker. Fighter. Spy. Snape was many things. And yet his heart bled. His one true obsession, friend, and Reason for living some days, was dead. Lily Potter, she turned out to be. Married to his foe of his school years, that cursed, cursed boy, James Potter.
But that couple was dead. Survived by one son. Harry James Potter.
He'd never met the boy, and was honestly scared to. Would the so called Boy Who Lived be the child of his mother? Or would fame ruin the boy? Would he be spoiled? Would he, Merlin help him, be Dark?
Pure whimsy. But for once, Severus Snape was a man with a plan. It was perhaps a fool's hope, and partly pure desperation, amidst a great feeling of hopelessness, but it was a better plan than drinking himself into a coma, Snape thought.
He'd already tried that.
Sitting upon his trustiest shelves in his quarters in Hogwarts Castle were ten whole cauldrons of Felix Felicis. The most potent Luck potion he knew of, custom made with his own formula, and brewed perfectly. Ten cauldrons, roughly a hundred doses of the golden potion. With his recipe, each dose would last a total of thirteen hours.
He had worked for seven months, hand upon the ten cauldrons, and each required six months to stew. He was depleted, most would call him insane for even attempting one cauldron of liquid luck during his time as head of Slytherin. But he relished in the challenge. It was difficult, almost maddeningly so, but he had done it. Honestly, he didn't know what his end goal was. But he figured the potion would help him. He just had to avoid becoming addicted, and the somewhat false feeling of untouchability the potion was said to accomplish.
After a good night's rest, Severus woke up, and looked to his calendar. It was summer break, and also the day he deigned to drink the first dose he had ever had of Felix Felicis. He honestly didn't know what to expect. Rumor had it a single dose of Liquid Luck was as good as a Wish. Snape didn't know what he would do with a hundred potions worth of Wish equivalence, but he was eager to find out.
Snape carefully filled a vial from the cauldron on his right, and stared at it for a moment. He wondered what it tasted like. Would he be happy, once the dose had run it's course? He had but one way to find these things out..
He ingested the potion. It tasted like lemon water. 'Odd' He pondered. Lemon wasn't even an ingredient for Felix Felicis.
Instantly, he felt less dour. A smile graced his lips after a moment. He didn't want to waste a minute of good luck.
"Now what?" He asked himself. He supposed he should go someplace where his luck would shine. So with a quiet "Portus", he created a portkey to Diagon Alley.
Oddly, as the magic put into the portkey was pulled from him, he found this portkey creation unique. It took tons of magic. And while he would never be accused of being weak magically, he wondered. Well, he was already Lucky. He knew it, like knowing he was wearing black robes. He probably wouldn't splinch, unless he Really Really messed up, which he felt was probably not the case.
He shrugged. It already seemed a better plan than drinking the day away. He felt Good. Oddly satisfied, in his accomplishment. He looked at his shelf for a moment. What if he got lost in his Lucky state? With a flick of his wand downward, the nine full cauldrons of Luck potion and the other slightly less full one shrank, and he sealed their covers on magically.
There. Now if he got Really Lost, he wouldn't lose his potions.
With a slight smile, Severus Snape stood, and activated his portkey with the words:
"Lucky me."