3. Dust & Echoes
Isadora Starbuck was leaning against the doorjamb of her compartment, staring at him with a look of slight annoyance. He noticed that her school robes were draped along her frame in a way that complimented her body. She blew a strand of hair out of her face, which brought his attention back to her fey violet eyes. "So I'm sure you're wondering why I wrote you this summer," she said quietly.
Severus nodded. "I will admit, Starbuck, I couldn't even remember who you were," he said with a sneer.
She raised an eyebrow at him. "Well, then," she huffed, placing a hand on her hip. "Just so you're aware, I was coerced to write that letter at the request of my father."
Wait, what? Severus narrowed his eyes at her, confused as to what she had just said. Why in the world would Zachary Starbuck, a well-known pureblood and supporter of the Dark Lord, demand that his daughter write to a fellow student to thank him for tutoring sessions? "I was unaware your father took any interest in me," he said, making sure his tone was bereft of any confusion.
"Well that certainly makes two of us, Severus," Isadora snorted. "Believe me, if it hadn't been for my father we wouldn't be speaking right now."
She obviously wasn't trying to hide her disregard for him. Severus couldn't believe the nerve of this girl, whom he barely knew, speaking to him this way – especially after all the slaving away he had done with her to make sure she understood precisely how to concoct even some of the simplest potions! "It's interesting, Isadora, that your father takes such a keen interest in pleasing me with his thanks, and yet you scoff at me as if I'm beneath you," he hissed, turning to the side as several students passed by him, quite possibly on their way to find the trolley. "I doubt he'd be happy to hear about your attitude when I write to tell him that mentoring his daughter was a pleasure."
The girl across from him emitted a haughty laugh as she pushed her coal-black fringe behind her ear. "Be my guest," she growled.
"Isadora?" a fellow Slytherin interrupted as he paused in front of the compartment. Severus recognized him as Callum Bradford; he was taking a keen interest in Potions and frequently worked at the station across from Snape in class, double checking his work with Severus to make sure he was doing everything correctly. "Everything alright?" Callum asked.
Before Isadora had a chance to speak, Severus took the opportunity to make his exit. "I was just leaving, in fact," he muttered, and turned to continue back to his compartment towards the front of the train.
"Severus!" He heard the light patter of feet coming up behind him; as he turned, Isadora was approaching him with a look of contempt.
"What is it now?" he sighed. All he wanted was to return to his compartment and sulk in silence. The only reason he had been out in the hallways to begin with was to find the trolley and grab a chocolate frog to keep him satisfied until the feast.
Violet eyes bored into him from beneath obsidian hair – somehow every time she moved, Isadora's fringe abandoned her and swung out in front of her face. "Look," she whispered, "I'm not happy about this at all. In fact it's rather embarrassing that I had to attend tutoring sessions. But now my father wants me to continue attending sessions, even though I tried telling him that you weren't hosting them again since sixth year tends to pile on the work." She said all this incredibly fast, as if she was ashamed to be admitting to it at all.
Snape's arms crossed his chest again as he considered Isadora. "That is correct, I won't be tutoring anymore. But Professor Slughorn will probably –"
"My father doesn't want Slughorn, he wants you," Isadora said in a hushed voice, her cheeks slightly red.
Severus raised an eyebrow. "That's rather interesting. What does he expect me to do, be your private tutor for the whole term?" At this, Isadora stared at him, a look somewhere between rage and apology. "You have got to be kidding me," Severus mumbled.
"Believe me, Snape, I'm not happy about it either. If you want I can have him write to you directly," she said, finally speaking in a normal tone.
Severus shook his head and said quietly, "That won't be necessary. I know who your father is, I've heard the stories. I'd rather be on his good side suffering with you as a pupil than on his bad side."
A quiet laugh escaped Isadora's lips; he noticed how pretty she looked when she wasn't sneering at him. "I appreciate it. I'll try not to be a burden," she said sarcastically.
"I doubt you'll be able to avoid it," Severus said offhandedly. With that, Isadora returned to her usual indignant state, folding her arms across her chest and leering coldly at him.
"My father wants a tutoring schedule by the end of the week," she huffed, and marched back down the hallway, slamming the compartment door shut behind her.
Finally, Severus thought as he hung his head and returned silently to his compartment. Once the door was shut, he removed the outermost layer of his robes and rolled up the sleeve of his right arm. Moments before Isadora asked to speak to him, Potter and Black had decided it was time to begin their year-long obsession with torturing Severus to within an inch of his sanity. Enraged at Potter for finally securing a date with Lily Evans for the start of term, Severus had swung a fist in the direction of Potter's face, but managed to knock Remus Lupin to the ground instead. James had quickly retaliated, getting a good hold on Severus' arm before Black pulled him away. Slight bruises in the shape of fingers were beginning to form on the Slytherin's lower arm; the first of many wounds to inevitably come this term.
Lily had passed him twice on the train since it left the station, and both times she made it quite clear that she was not going to acknowledge his apologies. He had thought about stepping out into the hallway and calling her name as she walked by, but did not want to deal with the agony of being ignored by the girl who up until last term had been his best friend…his only friend. Severus slumped down onto the cushioned seat and sighed, unsure of what to do next. Surely by this point they were relatively near the castle; indeed, the train seemed to have slowed a bit.
It was rather curious, Severus thought, that Zachary Starbuck would take such a keen interest in having his daughter receive private potions lessons from him. His ego didn't mind – the fact that Starbuck was demanding Severus be the one to teach Isadora instead of a long-time professor was enough to fill Severus with pride. It was the one class in which he was able to truly show off his skills without getting in trouble for knowing too much Dark magic, like he would in Defense Against the Dark Arts. The way the ingredients worked together, how they needed to be added at the precise moment and at the exact temperature to avoid possible catastrophe – it all fascinated him, and put him completely in control. A hex or curse could be dodged; a carefully crafted potion could sometimes have no antidote.
He smirked under his stringy black hair, allowing himself a moment of pride now that he was safely within the confines of the compartment. It would have been even more flattering if Isadora herself had been the one requesting lessons, but as any Slytherin knew, they were all too proud to admit when they required assistance, in any subject. He tried to remember back to last year, to the potions study group where he apparently helped Isadora relearn everything she had been taught the previous four years. He could vaguely remember her face, and that once or twice her cauldron had come very close to dangerously exploding all over the dungeon. What Severus remembered the most from last year was working beside Lily Evans in Potions, secretly sharing smirks at each other as they watched others fail to accomplish their assigned tasks. Of course, Lily always tried to help other students; Severus would rather sit back and laugh at their failings. Lily would usually scold him the next chance she got for doing such things.
Maybe it's for the best, part of him thought with uncertainty. She had accused him of taking too keen an interest in the Dark Arts, which was obviously true; he hadn't tried to deny it. Many of his fellow Slytherins were thinking about taking the Dark Mark when they graduated, and becoming one of Voldemort's followers, the Death Eaters. He was certainly interested; nobody matched his skill with potions, and he had been told recently by Lucius Malfoy that the Dark Lord had been hearing about Severus' talents.
"Five minutes to Hogwarts," the conductor's voice announced through the corridors of the train, knocking Snape out of his thoughts. He stood and checked himself in the dim reflection from the window, and began to gather his things from the compartment. Nothing could be seen out beyond the train, except for the faint outlines of gnarled tree branches.
Severus breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped through the doors to the entrance hall of Hogwarts. The looming castle had always felt more like home to him than Spinner's Place ever would; here he was (for the most part) accepted for who he was. There was no chance of his drunken father surprising him with a beating for unexplained reasons, no chance of watching Tobias Snape emotionally torture his mother.
The shuffle of students into the Great Hall was one he looked forward to every September. Candles floated effortlessly above the four long tables that stretched the length of the hall as his fellow classmates filed in along their respective tables, divided by house. The enchanted ceiling reflected the weather outside, tonight a clear navy sky, dotted by hundreds of glittering stars. Severus was positive he would be perfectly happy sleeping under that ceiling every night if he had the chance.
The final straggling students made their way to their house tables and sat down, eagerly waiting for the feast to begin. Of course, before that could happen, the yearly Sorting had to occur. Several students groaned as the large group of first years made their way into the hall and stood in front of the high table; every year the Sorting Hat would come up with a new song, which would take at least five minutes to recite, followed by a very long, drawn-out sorting ceremony. Severus hoped this year's incoming Slytherin students weren't nearly as dim as last year's crop.
While the tattered old hat sang its new song, Severus found himself staring idly across the hall, searching for the fire-red hair and green eyes he knew so well. Instead, his eyes locked with the brown, spectacled eyes of James Potter, who was seated across from Lily. Potter smirked when he noticed Snape was staring at him, and made it obvious that he and Lily were holding hands from across the table. She must have realized what he was doing, for she turned around and glared at Severus briefly before dropping James' hand and focusing her attention on the ceremony occurring at the front of the hall.
A dragon rose up in Severus' chest, dying to be released. He clenched his fists under the table, chunks of fabric from his robes caught in his rage. A sneeze echoed from a few seats down the Slytherin table; he turned to glare at whoever it was that made the noise, seeking someone to exact his anger on. His eyes fell on Isadora, whose face had gone slightly red from the attention the sneeze had brought on her. He glared at her, silently telling her to shut up. She stuck her tongue out at him and smirked.
Yeah, that's real mature, he thought as he turned back to the head table. The sorting was apparently over; several new first years had filled the empty seats at the table. The children were being patted on the back and welcomed to the house with all the welcome a Slytherin was capable of delivering. One, he noticed, ended up sitting next to Isadora, who seemed all too eager to start initiating the first year into the house of Salazar.
"If I may have your attention for a moment," the voice of Albus Dumbledore echoed calmly as a hush fell over the students. "Let me first say, welcome back to what is sure to be another fantastic year at Hogwarts. We are quite happy to see all our old friends again, and equally as pleased to be welcoming new ones!" A light clap spread through the hall as he paused. "I just have a few words to say before we tuck in to our feast. As you are all by now aware, the wards around the castle have been increased dramatically since last term. You will find an expanded list of rules in your house common rooms – I urge each of you to follow these rules as they are placed for your protection. Dark forces are moving once again as we come together for another start of term, and I do not want to see any of my students falling into harm's way." With this comment he looked briefly at the Slytherin table; it was widely known that the majority of Voldemort's followers were recruited directly from Slytherin. "With that, please: eat!"
Severus admired Dumbledore for his constant vigilance when it came to protecting his students. It surely could not be easy to manage an entire school full of pupils whose magical talents ranged from the abysmal to the supreme, while also coordinating efforts with the Ministry of Magic to thwart the Dark Lord's plans.
"Did you see the way he looked at all of us when he said that last bit?" Colin Mace, a fellow sixth year, muttered to Severus as they began eating. "Who does he think he is?"
"Surely he's aware by now that he is headmaster," Snape replied dryly. "It'd be most unfortunate if he's only just discovering that fact now."
Colin shot his housemate a haughty look of derision as he shoveled food into his mouth. "There are rumors some of us are being recruited," he whispered. "Nobody knows who exactly, but apparently Lucius Malfoy has been sending out owls to prospective candidates, urging them to join when they graduate."
Severus stared blankly back at his classmate. Colin was horrible at trying to conceal when he wanted to know information; he certainly wasn't getting anything out of Snape tonight. The look in Colin's eyes was bordering on pleading. It was rather pathetic. "How interesting," Severus said, watching as the last remaining dinner faded away and was replaced by dessert.
"You'll be seventeen soon, right, Snape? You'll be able to join up before you've even graduated!" Colin said with excitement. Several students looked warily down the table, wondering what could have riled up the sixth year so much.
Severus glared at Colin as he muttered, "No, I do not believe the Dark Lord wants to risk Dumbledore catching any students being recruited. I haven't heard of anyone being allowed to join until they are a graduate of the school and free of its wards."
"But the trace lifts at –"
"Shut it, Colin!" Severus hissed. "What I plan on doing after seventh year is frankly none of your business." With that he rose from the table, taking a few pumpkin pasties with him, and stormed out to the entrance hall, where he made his way down to the dungeons. "Insufferable twit!" he muttered to himself as he walked down the empty passageways to the Slytherin common room. The heels of his shoes echoed loudly against the damp corridor; he muttered the password and dropped down onto one of the black leather lounge chairs. A fire was already burning in the fireplace, courtesy of the ever-present house elves.
He sat staring into the fire, watching it delicately lick the hood of the fireplace as it devoured the wood which gave it life. He loved when the common room was silent. He could actually think and get things done when there weren't dozens of students milling about. As he finished the pasty he had been munching on, he heard the faint echoes of feet against the stone floors. His silence was about to be interrupted. With a sigh, he tossed the remaining stolen pasties into the fire, and slunk down to the boy's dormitory, and to sleep.