Hi everyone: Okay, the Half Blood Prince chapter ended up being two chapters instead of one. It just worked out better that way. This one happens before Dumbledore's death. The next one happens after. Obviously, Dumbledore's death changed just about everything for Severus. Hence two separate chapters.

Hogwarts

January, 1997

In all the world, was there anything as noxious as a teenager?

Among the hazards of always keeping an eye on Potter was the fact that Severus Snape inadvertently learned all about the boy's personal life, which Severus most certainly did not care to know.

Nevertheless, Potter's romantic escapades over the years (as those of his friends) unfolded right under Severus's nose, and it seemed there was little Severus could do about it. Even worse, Severus would catch himself from time to time actually musing about their situations, as though he were following one of those silly Muggle afternoon programs that his father's mother had been fond of. For instance, Severus had always expected that Potter and the Granger girl would end up together. It seemed so obvious to him that it should be so, almost since the very first Potions class. Therefore, it surprised him greatly when Potter began dating the Ravenclaw, then turned his attention to Weasley's sister. Even more surprisingly, Granger seemed to fancy Weasley himself, of all people! A more ignorant, tiresome boy could scarce be found in the entire wizarding world; he made Potter look like Nicolas Flamel in comparison. Of course, that Weasley had fancied Granger for ages Severus had always understood. Only Granger herself seemed oblivious to this obvious fact, the way very smart girls often are about such things. Severus certainly knew this, if anyone did.

At any rate, he'd hoped that he'd have been spared all this romantic nonsense once he finally-finally!-began to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. But as it turned out, Weasley somehow did well enough in his O.W.L. to end up in the class as well, and the hormones all round were like a pestilence. Sometimes, Weasley's pathetic mooning over Granger revoltingly reminded Severus of himself as he'd look at Lily in Potions class-at least, so Horace Slughorn said.

Severus considered the return of Slughorn to Hogwarts a mixed blessing. On the plus side, he now had a fellow Slytherin among his colleagues, and someone to talk with about Potions, someone who actually understood the art to a useful extent. The downside, of course, was that Slughorn was fond of reminiscing about the Good Old Days, particularly about how Severus and poor dear Lily were such keen students, such a shame about that lovely girl, Severus must have felt it deeply when she died, even if he had been a Death Eater at the time.

At these instances Severus would usually excuse himself and leave, though at other times, he found himself unable to move as Slughorn rhapsodized about Lily's virtues. "One of the brightest students ever to pass though Hogwarts! Of course, you knew that better than anyone," Slughorn nodded over his tea. "Such good friends you two were, thick as thieves! Rather like Harry Potter and Miss Granger, don't you think? Miss Granger reminds me of Lily a bit, with her keen mind and answering all the questions in class!" Slughorn chuckled. "And Potter! A brilliant potioneer, much like you were at his age."

"Indeed," Severus replied coolly. He'd heard Slughorn say this before, and of course Severus was instantly suspicious. He wondered if the boy had somehow gotten his hands on Severus's old Potions textbook. Sooner or later, Severus would find out for sure.

"It surprised me to no end when Lily ended up marrying the Potter boy!" Slughorn suddenly said, causing Severus to almost spill his own tea. "Not that he wasn't handsome, and a Quidditch hero, too! But I'd always thought it was you she was gunning for. Oh sure, some would say you were not an especially friendly boy, but you had such a keen mind, and I believe that Lily was the sort of girl who admired brains over brawn. And you two certainly seemed to have your share of jokes in class, those who said you had no sense of humor were quite in error," Slughorn went on, oblivious to Severus's reaction. "It was obvious to everyone that she fancied you, and vice versa. You were so impatient with everyone else, but ah, with Lily, you always looked as though you'd swallowed a whole bottle of Amortentia potion! Very like how the young Weasley lad gazes at Miss Granger-entre nous, I believe Mr. Weasley may win the day after all! At any rate, you and Miss Evans were quite the pair, my boy. Minerva and I had a bet to see who would begin dating first, you and Lily or Frank and Alice! Alas," Slughorn sighed, "Minerva won that bet handily. I never did understand what came between you two," he added, shaking his head. "And it cost me a month's pay, too!"

But Severus wasn't listening anymore; instead, his mind had started to wander back to the time when his feelings for Lily had turned into something else. In his fourth year, he began hearing about things in the Slytherin dorm room as he pretended to sleep, things that Rosier and Avery would whisper about. Things about girls. They'd tell some of the most astonishing tales, and about girls they'd known personally! Even girls right in Hogwarts! They'd talk about things Severus could hardly believe were possible, much less anything a girl would be willing to do. Nevertheless, he'd begun to have shameful fantasies about doing such things with Lily, and Lily even liking it. He'd always felt awful afterward, unclean; yet the thoughts rose in his mind unbidden, and when she'd, say, hug him to make Potter jealous, it nearly drove him mad.

Of course, he'd noticed she was no longer a little girl-who wouldn't notice?-especially in the summertime when they were back home and she wasn't encased in her voluminous robes. On a hot day she'd wear a closely fitted t-shirt and jeans or a cotton dress, and yes, Severus most definitely noticed she wasn't a little girl anymore. The only good thing about being back in his father's house during the summer was that he had plenty of time to himself, which he needed more than ever.

Severus repressed a sigh as he remembered the afternoon where he finally got to kiss her. It was not just one kiss, either, but an hour's worth. By the time they'd heard that odious Petunia calling for them, it was almost dark, and his lips were swollen, his body on fire. He could hardly imagine what Petunia thought when a blushing Lily followed her home, her hair awry, her dress grass-stained. Truly, there was a moment during that afternoon where Severus had thought they were going to do that. At one point she'd straddled him while they kissed, and there was no way she could not have felt what all this was doing to him. She'd run her hands up his shirt, and when he felt her cool fingertips along his ribs, he'd actually moaned into her mouth in exquisite agony. She laughed against his lips, and did it again. Merlin's beard! Just thinking about it made Severus's robes feel tight and itchy.

"Excuse me," Severus abruptly said, interrupting Slughorn's monolog (he was now discussing some famous Quidditch player friend of his) and leaving Slughorn's chambers. Once the door closed behind him, Severus leaned against it for a moment, his cheeks flushing. He was thirty-seven years old, far too old for this sort of foolishness! He'd thought such sensations had died out in him long ago. Evidently not.

With as much dignity as he could summon, he made haste to his own chambers, where he locked the door securely and went to the Pensieve. With a trembling hand, he reached for the plain alabaster bottle, and decanted its contents into the shimmering surface. And then, once more, he was there: beneath fragrant summer leaves of poplar and willow and ash, on grass so green it was emerald, he held in his arms the key to his heart and soul, the beginning and end of his existence, the single flame of beauty that had ever lit the dark corners of his life.

When he'd had his fill, he sagged against his chair feeling spent, enervated, drained. He couldn't imagine what Potter might have thought had the boy happened upon that memory. Indeed, how Severus and Lily didn't end up together after that afternoon, he never understood. Perhaps they were both afraid it would ruin their friendship. In the end, it did change things between them, and not for the better. Lily flirted with him more, but they also fought more, too. There was an electric undercurrent to their friendship that hadn't been there before, but they also began to drift apart. In a way, Severus's most delicious memory had also been the deadliest one.

However...what if it wasn't the fact that they kissed that helped to destroy their friendship? What if it were the reverse? Perhaps part of her rancor towards him was that he never asked her to formally be his girlfriend, and she was offended, or hurt. But he'd been terrified of doing so, lest she reject him. Back then, he hadn't truly believed he was good enough for her. She was so lovely, so popular, and he...well, he was neither of those things. Back then, he felt he needed to be a Death Eater to gain the power and glory that would make him worthy of her.

What a fool.

Once Lily left him for good, it was an easy fall into the Dark Lord's grasp. What he'd held back from-for her sake-he then ran headlong toward, once he realized nothing he could do would bring her back. Laughable, that he should have ever trusted the Dark Lord. Severus had learned by now that he could not trust anyone, except for her. And he was the one who had betrayed her trust, not the reverse.

Whereas he'd been heated and flushed a moment ago, now he was chilled and strangely empty. He suddenly wished he hadn't left Slughorn's office as hastily as he did. Slughorn had been one of the few professors during his school years who had liked Severus, and it was clear that Slughorn enjoyed his company as an adult and a colleague. It would be unseemly to return to Slughorn's office now though, especially after his unceremonious departure.

He'd considered visiting the Slytherin common room, then immediately decided against it. The only student whom he'd truly cared to speak with, now seemed to no longer wish for his company. It was only belatedly that Severus fully realized how fond he'd actually grown of Draco Malfoy. The boy had been one of the few people who had seen right through Potter's heroic ruse, and failed to worship him as all the other students tended to do. The young man who, as a tot, had climbed into Severus's lap and cheerfully yanked on his hair, had grown to be Severus's protegee of sorts: by far the brightest and most talented student in Slytherin, and Severus's best pupil in Potions, Draco would often visit Severus's office of an evening, where they'd spend a pleasant hour or so categorically denouncing almost every single personage at Hogwarts. The only unfortunate thing about Draco was his love of the word "Mudblood," but Severus recognized very well the bitterness behind it. After all, young Weasley had not been the only one to fall under Granger's spell. Granger was careless in her oblivious charm, and on Draco's behalf Severus rather hated her for it.

There was no question in meeting with Dumbledore, either. He hadn't been summoned to Dumbledore's chambers this night, and Severus would never presume to drop by on the Headmaster unannounced. Even if, as Severus suspected, Dumbledore wouldn't have minded, something in Severus resisted doing anything that put him in a beseeching light. There were other reasons, as well.

Severus had thought that if he ever got to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts at last, he would rejoice. He knew why, of course, Dumbledore had finally allowed him to teach it: it was because by the end of this year, Dumbledore would surely be dead, and Severus was to be the agent of his destruction. This was certainly no cause for contentment. In fact, for the first time in many years, Severus experienced the loneliness he'd tried for so long to bury beneath layers of coldness and hate and pride. Now, though, the loneliness seemed to shiver from his soul like the memories in a Pensieve, and was just as mocking.

Suddenly, he knew just where to go. He got up from his desk, went to his chamber door, and ascended up, up, up the stairs to the Infirmary.

It was late enough to where there were only a couple of students amid the rows of beds, but not so late that Poppy wouldn't still be up and about. However, he knew that, like himself, she rarely slept much, which was why he was certain to find her awake.

He said nothing as he entered the Infirmary, lest the two bedridden students (a Hufflepuff second-year and a Ravenclaw fourth-year, Severus believed) noticed anything amiss. He merely nodded at a surprised Poppy, who returned his nod as Severus walked into her office.

Barely a minute passed before Poppy entered her office too, sat down across from him. She folded her hands on her desk, leaned forward, her eyes scanning Severus's face. Severus said nothing, merely glanced down at the polished floor.

She got up from her desk after a moment, went to her cabinet, which held many of the potions Severus had given her over the years. Wordlessly she took down a bottle Severus recognized, and poured a dram of the liquid into a ceramic cup, then handed it to him.

Normally, he would refuse it. But on this particular night, it was understood he didn't come here to get intoxicated, but rather for her to work her certain magic. But even as the warm liquid glowed in his veins and the sharp edges in his mind had begun to soften, he grieved that one day, and soon, even she would come to loathe him, and there was nothing to be done about it. For now though, he took comfort in her silent friendship, for the nice thing about Poppy was that she always knew the right time to ask, and the right time to merely observe. After about an hour of mutual silence, Severus finally got up and went to the door, but not before he reached for her hand, and held it briefly in his own. She squeezed his hand in return, and he let her go, then exited her office at last, fortified to go on again at least for a little while.