Severus stared at the wardrobe in one of the rooms within Prince Manor's second floor, the corner of his lips twitching minutely in fear each time the cupboard shook heavily from the inside.
He already had an inkling of what it could be when the house-elves told him about something hiding in the room but he kept postponing to get rid of it. The elves were loyal to him, yes, but even they didn't want to see their own fears and to be frank, it was completely understandable.
Though it had been over five years since his worst humiliation happened, and the Boggart incident in his seventh year had just passed two years, Severus still couldn't bear to see his younger self right in the eye. Those vulnerable onyx eyes had widened open in search for help, but none ever came. And even if he could look at them, just how was he supposed to make fun of… of himself?!
Sighing under his breath, Severus went to sit on the bed and enforced his Occlumency shields so tight that he felt almost disassociated with reality. But it was the only trusted way he knew in which he could be calm and wouldn't ever make a fool out of himself ever again. As he held his hazel wand tightly in his hand, he then pointed the item to the wardrobe with a whisper, "Alohomora."
His heart quivered slightly when the cabinet swung open but he remained where he was, determined to remove the Boggart from his home and perhaps even making sure none ever come back.
Though initially staring at the Boggart's form in utmost puzzlement, Severus' face quickly went deathly white as he made sense of what he saw before him.
It was himself again, but instead of looking fifteen or sixteen, he was about seven or eight years old.
His mind shields crumbled a bit.
Severus never really looked at the mirror during his childhood, already knowing enough that he mostly resembled his mother (without the wrinkles, of course). But his younger self (he tried hard to convince himself it was merely a Boggart, not his actual self; much to no avail) looked up to him with bright onyx eyes yet also adorning a small frown, as if he wanted to query something but not finding any courage to actually do it. His shabby, baggy clothes and long hair framed him like a protective cloak, just as what he wore now.
It was essentially, what Severus Snape really was.
Severus Snape, who once wished to have a loyal friend; who wanted to escape the awful, lonely life in Spinner's End and gained a respectable fame within the wizarding community. Of after the despicable werewolf 'prank', a boy who created the 'Half-blood Prince' persona, made a terrible weapon for self-defense but also wished to fly just like Peter Pan to avoid any future confrontations.
He even believed he could do it, thinking the supposed flying spell would be his magnum opus.
It was ultimately a tragedy for his enemies to find out about the spell and as if adding insult to injury, had used the spell to utterly humiliate him in front of everyone. All because of the mere thought he might spill the werewolf's secret to the Ministry.
As Severus looked at the Boggart's dark eyes, he wondered what could happen if only his younger self knew of his future, of the Marauders' persistent bullying, hateful parents and Lily Evans' betrayal.
"I…" he croaked with teary eyes, his wand already slipped from his hand, "F- Forgive me. For… for not doing enough for both of us."
Lord Voldemort didn't know what to expect when he received a sudden visit from one of Prince Manor's house-elves, telling him to come over to the mansion as quick as possible before disappearing with a miniscule crack.
It had just been after the celebration of Lucius Malfoy's child being born; with his many Death Eaters had secretly attended the party under the numerous disguises. After saying his dismissal to the crowd, he took Nagini in the library and shrunk her so she could curl around his arm before using the Prince Manor's Portkey pendant to leave.
"So glad you can make it here," Septimus Prince spoke noticeably in relief after he unlocked the entrance doors, "I found Severus talking to it as if it was a person and well…"
"It?" the Dark Lord queried curiously.
"…A Boggart."
He frowned.
"Long story short, the elves asked him to remove the Boggart but instead, he had been going at it like a real kid. Reading it books, teaching it spells, all that stuff."
At that, Lord Voldemort turned to Nagini with furrowed brows and went to Severus Prince's room, with the ancient ghost hovered closely. He blinked upon noticing the 'Do Not Enter' sign hanging on the door.
"…Is the basilisk in there?" he asked.
Septimus shrugged, "Doubt that; the Boggart would die right away when making eye contact with it."
The Dark Lord hummed and took out his yew wand, all the while wondering why Severus would attempt to befriend such Dark creature. It was merely a shape-shifter without any real form. Steeling himself, he slowly knocked on the door. "Severus, it's…" he began but quickly narrowed his eyes at the ghost, who sheepishly flew away to another room. "It's Marvolo and Nagini. Can we come in?"
The reply from the other side was almost inaudible, but Nagini managed to catch the faint words and they entered the room slowly, with Lord Voldemort held his wand tightly.
Severus was on the bed with the shape-shifter beside him, both were reading a children's book. Though the Dark Lord suspected the Boggart looked uninterested with the book, he was surprised to see the twinkles in those onyx eyes.
Upon seeing him, the Boggart's dark eyes widened and it quickly changed into what he feared the most: his own dead body which had all sorts of imaginable injuries.
"Riddikulus," he immediately hissed. With a deafening crack, the creature turned into a wisp of black smoke and went out of the room through the opened window.
"I…" Severus stammered after a while, his orange-red eyes were wide in mortification.
The Dark Lord might look heartless, even believed he truly was that, but he knew what exactly had happened just then. Severus Prince was just like him; someone who wanted a better life in the past, and truly cherished magic that ran through their veins because that power had given them a meaning in their otherwise miserable life.
"…It's alright," he spoke softly before sitting beside the young man. Nagini had gone to Severus' right side and rested her head on his lap, to which he slowly caressed her. "I too, had wished for a better fate. But the one I have now… it's memorable on its own. I might not ever get to really know you."
"Y- You don't understand."
"Then let me. Tell me what troubles you." When Severus didn't answer, he lowered his head. "…Take your time. I imagined you had a much terrible childhood than me and I don't want to persuade you."
Severus looked away, fingers twiddling against each other nervously. "…Not now," the young man finally muttered.
"…Fair enough." The two men and a brown snake then simply drowned in their own thoughts, and after a while of feeling a slight pressure on his right shoulder, Lord Voldemort risked to glance aside.
Severus had fallen asleep, with faint tear streaks on his pale face. Nagini too had remained still on the young man's lap and carefully wiping the tears away, the Dark Lord decided a nice rest wouldn't hurt him and went to doze off as well.
It was the mid-morning of 23rd June, and Petunia Evans-Dursley had never been so happy in her life.
Despite being thoroughly exhausted with last night's ordeal, her eyes couldn't stop staring at the bundle of cloth in a small bed beside hers. The hospital room she stayed in was quite spacious and she was grateful that her husband managed to get her a personal room. It was not like she didn't like any attention, she merely wanted a bit of privacy; spending nearly all her waking time simply to look at her newborn child.
When she heard someone knock on the door, she tried hard not to startle her child as she answered, "Come in."
She certainly didn't expect to see Severus Snape as one of her visitors.
"Sn-" she started, a bit surprised.
"Severus," he cut in.
Petunia blinked. She had always called the man 'Snape' and he usually didn't mind it; what made him to change his mind? Besides, 'Snape' rolled off the tongue much better than 'Severus'. Still, she didn't dare to test his patience by provoking him. Taking a look at his rather somber appearance, she was slightly curious about his gloved left hand but nothing more.
"How did you know…?" she trailed off.
Sn- Severus went to sit on one of the chairs beside her bed, "Vernon sent me a letter. Guess it's a lucky thing that I was at Spinner's End at that time instead of elsewhere."
As if speaking of the devil, Vernon Dursley entered the room moments later. "Hey, Russ!" he greeted with a jovial smile and held his right hand out. "Glad you can make it." Severus merely gave him a weak smile before they shook hands and after exchanging a few words, they talked about the child's name in hushed voices.
"Uh, no offense but I'd rather not have my possible child to be called his name out loud by anyone, especially a ridiculous one," Severus quipped when Vernon suggested 'Dudley' and though Vernon frowned at his words, Petunia then added, "'Dudley' would make a good nickname, dear."
The stocky-built man harrumphed. "I suppose. What name do you get for him?"
"Huh?" Severus, who was leafing through the newspaper, was startled by the sudden attention before looking back at the sleeping baby. "Well… He looks like 'Timothy' to me."
"Tim…" Vernon muttered, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "What do you think, love?"
"I'm alright with whichever you choose, dear," Petunia said with a small smile.
"Fine, then." He then carefully took the bundle of cloth out of the bed and stared up at his son with a beaming grin. "Welcome to the world, Timothy 'Dudley' Dursley."
On the night of 28th June, Francesca Zabini was waiting in Hog's Head Inn for her job interview.
She was not particularly nervous being there by herself, but as time passed even she wondered if she had missed the date (no, she checked Minerva McGonagall's letter a few times already) or the Headmistress of Hogwarts simply wanted to test her patience. She already had three bottles of Butterbeer and if the damned woman still didn't show herself in the next hour, she would go home.
A woman of her looks had to keep up her appearance, after all.
The wooden door of the bar swung open for the umpteenth time and as Francesca looked up in complete disinterest, she saw a young woman with very frizzy light brown hair glanced around nervously, her numerous necklaces and bracelets shone faintly under the lantern lights.
"Um…" the newcomer spoke as she approached Francesca's table, "A- Are you here for the job interview too?"
But before Francesca could respond, the woman went on and held out her right hand, "Sybil Trelawney, I- I'm applying for Divination."
"Hello," Francesca greeted her with a small, charming smile. "Francesca Zabini. I'm going for Potions."
"Potions?" Sybil blinked before unceremoniously taking her seat across the table, "Ah, I was expecting Severus Snape to take the job since all I see was someone shrouded in black but alas, the Inner Eye can get befuddled sometimes. Though of course, I'm not entirely wrong; you are a Slytherin, yes?"
Francesca only quirked her eyebrow, "I don't want to be the Head of Slytherin House, though."
"Ah yes, I wonder just how Minerva and Pomona educate those rowdy boys," Sybil rambled on, brushing her fingers against her colorful necklaces, "surely the children also need a good father figure, and as much as I do like Filius, he's just a bit… whimsical, you get what I mean?"
"I suppose. Does your family good at Divination?"
"Oh, I had a grandmother; very famous she was. It's just a sad thing that people wouldn't ever believe her."
Francesca restrained herself from rolling her eyes at the statement. Who would want to hear all the spooky, dreadful things that may happen in the future? The two women then had another drink before hearing the door swung open once again and Minerva McGonagall came in with a grimace.
"Miss Trelawney, Miss Zabini," the older woman spoke as she approached the table, "I apologize for making you wait so long." Then she said, "Come along, Miss Trelawney; I'd rather want this day to be over quick."
Francesca was utterly flabbergasted. She had waited for nearly two hours but the damned fortune teller got to be interviewed first?!
"It won't take long, Miss Zabini," the Headmistress went on before adding under her breath, "at least I hope so." The two women then went upstairs and Francesca tried her best to refrain from making scathing remarks about the whole debacle. Ordering another Butterbeer, she quickly guzzled down the drink before wincing as she got up, blearily asking for the bathroom from the barkeeper.
It was just her luck that the restroom was also on the second floor, and she nearly stomped on her way up. How dare McGonagall made her waste her time? If she had known, she would arrive at the same time Trelawney did.
Washing her face and dabbing a bit of make-up to make her look presentable, she then kept trying to stay calm. That Severus Snape and Lord Voldemort might await her return and though her boyfriend was accepting the inevitable that she would fail, she didn't think the Dark Lord would do the same.
By the time Francesca walked out of the restroom, she was in a decent mood and as she subconsciously headed toward the stairs, she frowned. Why would she go downstairs again? Shaking her head, she then searched for the room where McGonagall and Trelawney might be and found it at the end of the corridor.
As she stood in waiting outside of the room, she could hear Trelawney rambling nervously about her numerous predictions since her Hogwarts years, of how she was directly related to Cassandra Trelawney and Francesca felt herself getting drowsier when suddenly, the eccentric woman's voice changed ominously.
Francesca Zabini's dark eyes went wide upon hearing what was on the other side:
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…"