Hogwarts

Halloween, 1982

It was Severus's misfortune to discover that teaching was an even more abysmal farce than he'd predicted. As he sat at his place in the Great Hall and surveyed the sea of black pointed hats before him, he suppressed a weary sigh, and asked himself yet again why he was doing this as opposed to, say, brewing potions in Knockturn Alley, or anything else, really. For one who disliked children as much as he, this profession was akin to being Crucio'd, especially since the students were so incredibly dull-minded. Severus doubted if even James Potter himself had been as hopeless at Potions as these fools.

The students' merry young voices grated on Severus's nerves, and as he lifted his goblet to his lips he half-heartedly hoped that Hagrid, the big oaf, had spiked the pumpkin juice with firewhiskey. Perhaps then Severus could better endure the jarring cacophony of laughter and shouts that rang throughout the Hall.

At least the Slytherins know how to conduct themselves with dignity, Severus thought to himself as he curtly nodded to a waspish-looking member of the Rosier brood who'd saluted him. Since Severus was the only Slytherin faculty member, he became head of Slytherin house by default, an appointment that turned out to be less unpleasant than he'd expected. He could endure coldness and sarcasm much better than merry chatter and pranks, though the Slytherin students were, as they've always been, as slippery and untrustworthy as snakes. But they were dignified, and seemed to regard Severus with genuine respect. The specter of the Dark Lord still haunted the old Slytherin pureblood families, and not all of them spoke gladly of Voldemort's defeat. For those, a former Death Eater was held in high regard.

As he gazed around the Hall again, Severus tried to decide which were worse, Gryffindors or Hufflepuffs. He of course despised Gryffindors as a rule, and would have done so even if that loathsome Potter and his band of fiends had not been sorted into that house, for the shrill brashness of Gryffindors irked him beyond what he could endure. On the other hand, Hufflepuffs were worse than inane, and Severus could stand almost anything better than undiscerning good-naturedness. As much as he'd hated Potter, Severus bore him a grudging respect because while Potter had been thick in the classroom, he had a cunning and cruelty to rival any Slytherin's. But in the end, Potter had unwisely misplaced his trust in someone who'd betrayed him, that foul accessory to murder whom Severus hoped rotted in Azkaban, death was too good for him, he'd torture Black himself yes he would, he would, he wouldn't even blink.

Glancing up from this unpleasant reverie, Severus found Dumbledore gazing at him, a strange expression in his cool blue eyes. Something flickered there, and in Dumbledore's gaze Severus caught a glimpse of a partially destroyed house. Severus kept his expression neutral, but he nodded his head slightly, and Dumbledore nodded too, then turned away.

For it was this day a year ago that Voldemort had murdered Lily Potter. Severus was almost glad that there was at least one person here who remembered too, and grieved, though Dumbledore's grief could be nothing, nothing at all, to Severus's own.

Their first Halloween at Hogwarts had fallen on a Sunday, and as there'd been no classes that day they'd spent the cold afternoon exploring the grounds around the lake, Lily asking Severus for the hundredth time to tell her all about the Giant Squid, then suggesting ways they could coax the Squid to make an appearance just for them. Severus surmised that the Squid probably hibernated during the colder months, and Lily pouted, throwing a stone into the lake as she said "But I want to see him now!"

The thin clothing beneath his robes didn't do much to keep the chill of the afternoon at bay, but he didn't mind much, for Lily's presence warmed him well enough, and he'd spent far less time with her of late than he'd wanted. Ever since they'd been sorted into separate houses, it seemed as though he had access to her even less than he had in Spinner's End, and so every moment they had alone together was a moment to be savored, even if the weather were colder than Merlin's tomb.

The dull iron grey of the sky hung heavy over the lake, but Lily's hair was a burst of bright color against it; and as she picked up a fallen leaf from a nearby tree and made it spin in her mittened hand, Severus felt as though she were the epitome of Autumn itself, crisp and russet and apple-sweet.

"Do you think we'll bob for apples?" Lily suddenly asked, with that uncanny ability to pluck an image right out of Severus's head.

"You mean at the feast tonight? I don't know," Severus shrugged. "Mum never said anything about apple bobbing. But there'll be cauldron cakes," Severus offered, and was rewarded with a bright smile as Lily said "Oh, I like those! Honestly, Sev, I've never had so many sweets in my life as I've had at Hogwarts, I wonder what my mum would think? I don't dare write to tell her though," Lily laughed. "She probably wouldn't let me come back again."

"She couldn't keep you from coming back," Severus said severely. "You're a witch, you belong here."

At this Lily bit her lip, cast her eyes down.

"Some people think I don't belong," she said quietly.

"Who says that?" Severus demanded. "Who told you that?"

She glanced up again, said "Some of those friends of yours. I overheard Rosier tell Mulciber in Potions that Muggleborns shouldn't be here."

Severus sidestepped the accusation a bit and replied with "You belong here, Lily. You're about the keenest witch in the school, and the smartest too."

Lily smiled brittlely at that, and reached for his hand. "As long as you always think so, Sev."

"Always," Severus replied firmly, grasping her mittened hand in his own.