A/N: The Snape Chapter! I've been wanting to do this for a while—and it seems like just about the right moment, because I'm starting to get reviews asking about him. So, here's the answer to the timeless question, what has Snape been up to?

Disclaimer: Copyright Jo-Ro

A/N: This chapter was always intended to be angst-y, but at various points, it got downright dark, quite unintentionally. I felt kinda sick during the "January 21st" section, so I just wanted to warn you. Adult themes present...

Chapter 15- "What Snape Did"

Or

"A Day in the Life"

(November 2nd, 1975)

Lucius Malfoy's cold, clear eyes surveyed the four teenagers across the private Three Broomsticks table. He leaned back in his seat, while three of the others leaned tensely forward. The fourth mirrored Lucius's posture, dark hair falling in front of his dark eyes with a certain amount of unobtrusive apathy. Privately, Lucius was impressed.

"What I want you to understand," the older wizard said, after a long silence, "is that you will be expected to prove yourself."

"Of course," said Mulciber eagerly. The sight of Nicolai Mulciber so earnest amused Severus Snape considerably, as Mulciber usually projected such a calm, superior air. Now, he sat like an anxious child, practically begging for Lucius Malfoy's approval, and it brought a slight smile to Severus's thin lips.

"The Master," Lucius continued, "is interested in supporting a following at Hogwarts. I know a few of you have relations who have proved... sympathetic, to our point of view... Mulciber, Avery..." They both nodded enthusiastically. "...Am I then to assume that the two of you..." here, Lucius turned his icy eyes on Hester and Snape, "are similarly encouraging?"

"Absolutely," said Hester greasily.

When Severus remained silent, Mulciber quickly spoke up: "You've got nothing to worry about with Snape. He knows more about the Arts than anyone in the school."

"Is that right?" asked Lucius, interested. Snape shrugged, but not modestly. "Very well..." He rose from the table. "I will report everything I've heard here tonight and... be in touch."

When Malfoy had gone, Mulciber at once turned to Avery. "We're in," he announced gleefully. "Did you hear that? We're in."

"He was rather vague," remarked Severus. "He'll 'be in touch?' Honestly."

"You could have been more enthusiastic, Snape," muttered Hester. "I'm surprised he didn't kick you out at the start."

Snape rolled his eyes. "More enthusiastic? And come off a desperate puppy like the three of you?"

"Calm down, Severus," said Mulciber, now in more typical, self-possessing form. "We should return to the castle."

They did, too, but while Mulciber, Avery, and Hester walked through the village, mumbling excitedly about the opportunity opening up to them, Snape remained quiet. The other three, perhaps, did not understand, but he was not quiet out of lack of enthusiasm. In fact, Lucius Malfoy had, in the last hour, opened more doors than Severus Snape had ever anticipated.

(November 13th, 1977)

To nearly everyone present, sixth year Potions class seemed to stretch on unnecessarily that morning. The Amortentia seemed to require an eternity to brew, and it was far too complex for most of them to have any clear idea of what they were doing anyway. Severus Snape did not have that particular problem.

He sat next to Lily, who was similarly adept in the completion of the potion... she did not seem to mind the thirteen steps required to prepare a single ingredient. In fact, Severus noticed how her eyes were a little bit brighter, how she smiled at one of the directions in her copy of Advanced Potion-Making and proceeded to disregard it, how she chewed her lower lip in concentration... she was enjoying this. Lily always enjoyed Potions, and—perhaps as a result—so did Severus.

"Alright," sighed the redheaded Gryffindor about halfway through the period. She set her cauldron on the fire and sat back in her desk. "That will need to be stirred in..." she checked the clock, "...ten minutes. Don't let me forget, Sev."

"'Course," he replied quietly. His own potion was nearing the same stage, and he worked quickly to catch up. "Did you finish the Transfiguration?" he asked, once his potion was stewing on the fire as well.

"Almost," replied Lily, staring off towards the blackboard. "I haven't managed the practical part... Transfiguration has never been my strong suit."

"Rubbish," said Snape. "Your better than most of the class." Lily smiled gratefully, but shrugged. "Anyway, Transfiguration isn't so terribly important."

This time, Lily actually laughed. "How do you figure that?"

"Potter's good at it; it can't be terribly difficult, can it?" muttered the Slytherin. He glared across the room to where the four Marauders sat—Remus divided between concentration on his potions and his friends, Peter almost solely devoted to the later, and James and Sirius engaged in what appeared to be a sword fight with wands, while their potions sat, stewing on the fire. "Idiots... if sparks fall into the cauldron, the potions will be ruined."

Lily followed Severus's stare. "I wouldn't worry about them," she remarked casually. "They do fine in classes."

"They're barely average in Potions," Severus quickly pointed out. "Lupin's rubbish, you know." Lily was silent, and Severus recognized that kind of silence. She didn't want to argue with him and was, as a result, forcefully biting her tongue. Something inside him—something masochistic, no doubt—goaded him on: "Oh, I forgot. Lupin's your friend."

"Sev..."

"I don't see how you can tolerate him. There's something weird about him..."

Lily flicked her hair stubbornly. "There's something weird about me, too. Why does 'weird' have to be negative? Now cool it, alright?"

"Cool it" was Lily's favored method of changing the subject, and sometimes Snape complied, sometimes he didn't. Today, he did, and the remainder of the class passed with only perfunctory conversation between the two... nothing like the Potions classes of years past, when they would sit, just the two of them, and talk about all sorts of things... big, important things that Severus had never been able to discuss with anyone else. But not today.

"Not bad, Potter," Slughorn could be heard praising the young Quidditch Captain, as he meandered through the room, inspecting the nearly finished cauldrons. "I daresay you've been working to improve your potions..."

"Oh, no," said James quite seriously. "I've just had a lot of practice with Amortentia." Slughorn looked worried, and then softened as he realized the jest.

"Of course," chuckled the Potions' Master. "Of course, you're joking."

"He is not," Sirius quipped. "How do you think he's got all his girlfriends?"

James punched him in the arm and the two began to bicker. Severus rolled his eyes, though the rest of the class seemed amused.

"Well then, Potter," Slughorn benignly continued once the two Marauders' dialogue had subsided; "What does it smell like to you?"

James grinned. "Professor Slughorn, you wouldn't ask me to divulge something as personal as that, would you?"

Slughorn chuckled once again, and Severus rolled his eyes once again. "Such a show off," he muttered, looking at Lily sideways to gauge her reaction.

"Oh, definitely," she agreed, but there was a slight curve of her lips that betrayed amusement. Severus glared into the pearly liquid of his own cauldron and wondered vaguely if Lily had any curiosity as to what he detected in its aroma.

(December 5th, 1975)

"Snape, a word," called Lucius, and the younger wizard turned back before exiting the quiet little room in the Hogs' Head. Avery, Mulciber, and Hester exchanged curious looks, pausing also, but Lucius nodded for them to leave, and they complied—if somewhat resentfully. "That was an impressive display," Malfoy continued, once they were alone. "You have done your homework, it would seem."

"Those spells work, too," said Snape quickly. "There's a lot more contained in the dark arts then the books say. If I had access to the resources..."

"You very well might, Snape," Malfoy interrupted. "The Dark Lord will be very interested with what I have to report concerning you... Mulciber, Hester... they're bright enough, but... well, let's just say that you have shown the most potential in the last few meetings."

Severus glowed with pride. "Thank-you," he replied, careful not to sound too keen on the compliment.

"There is one thing that troubles me about you," Malfoy went on. "I remember you when I was in school... you were strange... didn't get along with many of the other students in your house..."

"You've met Hester," said Snape dryly. "Are you surprised?"

Lucius smirked. "No. No, it is not that. What worries me, Snape, is that friend of yours... Miss... Evans?"

Snape quelled the panic that threatened to show on his face. "Mulciber explained that."

"Yes," said Lucius, businesslike. "I simply want to be certain that your interest in bedding the Mudblood won't... influence your dedication to your future with the Dark Lord."

"Of course not," said Severus quickly. "Of course not."

In the early hours of the morning that followed, Snape lay awake in bed, a mix of conflicting emotions. He was proud: he was to be given an opportunity to prove himself, something that had never really happened at Hogwarts—not with the likes of James Potter running about with the school at his feet. It was perfect... at last, he would show them all...

And yet, the things he had been forced to concede about Lily that night... it made him shudder to think.

Such thoughts kept him up for some time, until, as light broke, Severus drifted off to sleep, one thought comforting: when he was in power, he would show them all... Lily would see him differently then... Lily would see that Snape was truly the important one. The Slytherin could already see that beautiful, proud little smile growing on her pink lips…

And, when he was cowering, begging for his life, James Potter wouldn't seem so great...

(December 12th, 1975)

Saul Hester's beady eyes narrowed, and—it occurred to Severus—the boy's already potent resemblance to a rat only increased.

"Where were you today, Snape?" the other sixth year demanded, as he stepped fully into the Slytherin sixth year boys' dormitory, closing the door behind him; "and don't say you were up here with the flu... you aren't ill, and you weren't here when I came up at luncheon."

"Why would you think I was ill, Hester?" returned Severus, relishing the secret that frustrated his housemate so.

"Healer Holloway said you'd asked for flu medicine and come up here to sleep," said Hester. "But that's not true, is it?"

"Well," Snape returned, unfolding the Daily Prophet and leaning back on his bed lazily, "it's not as though I could tell Healer Holloway I planned on missing classes because Lucius Malfoy wanted to meet with me in Hogsmeade."

The only thing better than keeping that secret from Hester—Severus realized gleefully—was telling it. The other boy's face contorted with poorly contained irritation and disbelief. "Why didn't you tell the rest of us?" he demanded.

"Mulciber knows," said Severus lightly. "I assume he told Avery. But I was the only one to go down to the village... Malfoy only wanted to meet with me."

"Rubbish," snapped Hester. "I don't believe it. Why would Malfoy want to meet with a half-blood like y...?"

Before he could complete the thought, however, there was a bang, and Hester hung upside-down, suspended in mid air at the direction of Snape's wand. "It must be humiliating to be so easily bested by a half-blood like me," he said coldly. A flick of his wand, and Hester tumbled to the floor. "Malfoy had a few things he wanted to discuss with me about the state of Hogwarts. I don't know why he chose me out of the four of us, but he did..." Severus paused, and then added: "Although I can certainly see why he didn't choose you."

Snape, who had risen in the attack, now returned to his spot on the bed. What he had told Hester was at least partially true, if incomplete in details. Malfoy had wanted to know about Lathe's investigation and how much—if anything—the auror had discovered. Apparently, Lathe's reports to the Ministry had become cursory and infrequent.

Hester got to his feet. "That's it?" he muttered. "He didn't discuss the... the test he mentioned last time? The test for us...?"

"Don't be thick, Hester."

The other wizard straightened up, glaring across the dormitory at Severus. "Watch your back, Snape," he muttered and stole out of the room.

(December 19th, 1975)

"Tomorrow I'll be gone," Lily observed over a library book, to which she was paying very little attention. Snape looked up from the potions book he had been idly annotating. The pair sat at their usual table in the library. "I'll be home with Petunia and cars and the telly and men who bring the post."

Severus arched an eyebrow. "You don't have to go."

"I know," she replied. "But I want to. I want to see Mum and Tuney again. And the postman, of course..."

"Leaving me alone with the likes of Black and Pettigrew," muttered the Slytherin dryly, and Lily couldn't repress a smile.

"I'm sure you'll find something else to do besides hang around with a couple of Gryffindors, Sev. Some of your housemates are staying, aren't they?"

"No one in my year... except Hester." Lily nodded, clearly understanding the distaste in her friend's tone. "Still, it's better than Spinner's End."

"I know," agreed the other. "I half wish you'd come home, though... at least then I'd have something to do after the novelty of being home wears off. I'll feel a little pathetic sitting at the park by myself."

Severus pretended to read his book, while adding: "So that Harper of yours isn't going to be stopping by?"

Lily looked just a touch surprised that the question was being asked at all. "No," she replied, covering hastily. "No, I don't believe he will. He's staying at the castle."

"Because of this business with his family?"

"That's right."

Severus nodded. "So the two of you are still...?"

Sighing, Lily, too, nodded. "As far as I know. Anyway: new topic." She brightened considerably as she picked up her book bag and dropped it onto the table. "I've got your Christmas present."

Wrapped inside neat cuts of gold and green paper was a brand new, shining set of scales. "They're the extra sensitive ones," Lily explained proudly. "I remember you looking at them in the catalogue, and..." She continued her happy explanation, while Severus wondered how many allowances she had saved for a present like this.

When she had finished, he thanked her sincerely. "'Afraid I didn't get you anything this year..." he added sadly.

"Oh, it's alright, Sev, I..." She stopped, having recognized his expression. "You did, too, you prat. Hand it over."

He grinned and withdrew a package from his book bag as well. The redhead eagerly unwrapped her present, tying the blue ribbon that bound it around her wrist. "It's lovely," she said, seeing the forest green leather notebook side. "Thank-you, Sev, it really is l..."

"There's more to it," Severus explained. "I bewitched it... I've got another notebook... you can write in yours, and it will show up in mine."

"Wow, thank-you, Sev!" she marveled, duly impressed as she examined the notebook in greater detail. "Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas, Lily."

(January 1st, 1976)

Severus Snape sat alone in the Slytherin Common Room on New Years' morning. 1976. It didn't sound like a very important year to him.

"Sev?" was the word scribbled in neat, curving script on the first page of his black leather notebook. It was from Lily of course... Severus had opened the notebook half an hour ago to see if she had written anything, and she had. After the first word, more of the same lovely handwriting followed.

"Sev?

Please?

No?

Fine. You're not there. I can accept that. Really.

...

How about now?

No?

Fine.

Letter format it is... though you'd better not open up halfway through...

Ahem, pardon, the formalities:

Dear Sev,

Home just isn't the same without you. I hope you've had a nice Christmas. Petunia's here, in full Petunia form. She's got herself a fiancé, as you know, and I wish you could meet him. You would have quite a bit of fun with him... On second thought, that might not be such a good idea.

It's snowing loads and loads, just like it ought. All the neighborhood children are out playing in it, and I'm exceptionally jealous. I'm sixteen-years-old, and I have no excuse to play in the snow: who says age isn't a tragedy? Still, the mere fact that there are neighborhood children again makes everything just feel so much more Christmas-soaked. For a while, it seemed all the children in the neighborhood had grown, but at last, a new generation has sprung up, bringing with them snow ball fights and noise and expectations of cocoa.

I can't write much—Mum needs my help in the kitchen—but I was hoping you could give me a few details about what's going on at the school. I heard something about Lathe leaving, but the details were vague... if you know anything, I'm dying of curiosity.

Anyway, have a happy New Year! Give my love to the library—I suddenly feel as though I've read every book in this house, and I'm suffering from literary deprivation.

Love always,

Lily

P.S. Remember when we were little and we would write letters and carry them to each other's postboxes? At the end I would always write: "Please write back" as though you didn't know to already! Anyway, it just occurred to me...

-L.E."

That was what Lily Evans had to say—that was what tore at Severus's brain (conscience, actually, though he'd die before admitting it) and that was what had kept the Slytherin up most of the night with self-doubt. Well, that and the other thing.

"Snape,

I've just heard from Lucius. He wants to meet us next on January 15th. I think this could be what he was talking about last time: the "special trial" he mentioned. Spread the word to Hester.

-N. Mulciber"

And therein lay the dilemma.

(January 15th, 1976)

"That's it?" asked Severus, surprised. "That's all we have to do?"

"That," said Lucius Malfoy, "is what you must do to begin with the Dark Lord, yes, Severus. I assume there will be on difficulty for the four of you?"

"No, of course not," replied Mulciber, and the other two shook their heads in agreement. Snape could hardly believe it... one spell, and he would have proved himself able to join the most powerful wizard in recent history... one spell, and, well, there would be no difficulty there. Hadn't he already used that magic half a dozen times? Sure, the objects hadn't been exactly human, but even still...

"And you, Mr. Snape?" asked Lucius. "Are you prepared to do this?"

It seemed so strange to him... the simplicity... the lack of grandeur in the moment: a dingy rented room with a bed and tap in the Hogs' Head... four Slytherins and Lucius Malfoy... he had thought... he had thought the step would contain at least an element of the epic, and yet here stood Severus Snape, agreeing to a supremely simple task. It seemed so strange to him.

"Absolutely," replied the Slytherin easily.

"I don't care which Unforgivable you choose," Lucius went on, businesslike now. "But you had better stray away from the Avada Kedavra..." (How casually he spoke... it was the simplest thing in the world...) "We wouldn't want to cause panic in the school. You understand. And make certain you have a witness... one of the other three of you. Understood?"

"Of course," said Hester greedily.

"Yes," agreed Mulciber, and Avery nodded. Malfoy once again turned to Snape.

"Of course," said Severus. "I already know my target."

(January 16th, 1976)

"Bloody James Potter," Lily was muttering when she nearly collided with Severus on the stairwell between the fifth and sixth floors. She had not seen him, having been intently searching through her book bag for something, and on the collision, the Gryffindor's green eyes grew wide. "Sev! Agrippa, I'm sorry. You alright?"

"I'm fine," said Snape quickly. "Bloody James Potter?"

"Yes..." Lily waved her hand vaguely. "He was being a prat... I was looking for a book and... never mind it. What are you doing in this part of the castle?"

"I have to turn in my Transfiguration homework," he replied, holding up a scroll of parchment indicatively.

"That's right... you missed class this morning. Why was that? Feeling alright?"

"Overslept," he replied, and it was true. He hadn't felt much like getting out of bed after only a few hours sleep. Following their meeting with Lucius Malfoy, the four Slytherins had not been able to sneak back into the castle until quite late. "Where are you off to?"

"Library. Luke."

"Ah." He didn't bother keeping the sarcasm from his tone, and Lily noticed. She cocked her head to one side but said nothing. "Do you want company?" Severus quickly amended.

"If you're not in a rush to see McGonagall..."

"Please."

He changed direction, walking side by side with Lily down the stairway now. "So," Lily began presently, "have you got my birthday gift yet?"

"We're not too old for birthdays yet?"

"I should hope not. I'm only turning seventeen."

"Maybe I'll buy that bloody cat of yours a leash."

Lily crossed her arms. "Ira is very sensitive, Sev. I would never put him on a leash. He would be offended." She smiled. "Anyway, Donna gave me one for Christmas last year."

"That cat is a pain, Lily."

"Ira is not a pain. He simply knows what he wants."

"I was talking about Donna, actually..."

Lily tried to look disapproving. "Swot." The continued in the same vein until they reached the fourth floor. "This is me," said Lily lightly. "Thank you for escorting me."

"It's not as though it was completely out of my way... although it was."

Lily smirked. "It wouldn't have been very chivalrous if it wasn't completely out of the way, Severus. Now, I'm late." She glanced over her shoulder towards the library. Teasingly, she added: "Be good," before turning and walking briskly away. Severus didn't know why he felt the pleased expression slide from his face, or what that strange, uncomfortable feeling in this pit of his stomach might be.

(January 17th, 1976)

Severus Snape didn't know Alexa Kyle very well at all. They'd never spoken, that he could recall, and they only had a class or two together. She was a Ravenclaw—a very typical kind of Ravenclaw, with long brown hair, a button nose, and thin-framed spectacles. She was cute enough, and she tutored some of the younger students from time to time. Severus only knew this because Professor Slughorn had once asked him if he would help a third year who was struggling in Potions, and when Severus had quite dryly declined, Slughorn mentioned Alexa Kyle might do it.

Oh, and she was a half-blood.

That constituted just about everything that Severus Snape knew about Alexa Kyle right there, and yet Severus found himself alone in a drafty corridor with a sobbing Alexa Kyle, and it struck him as odd. This, he realized, must be the first time he was alone with a crying girl (except Lily—and even then, only once a long time ago). It was every bit as awkward as he might have imagined it to be.

There had been no invitation for the Ravenclaw to sit down beside him on that bench on the third floor. He had just been sitting there, reading a book on magical theory that would not have been found even in the restricted section of the school library, when she arrived, marched down the corridor with a stony expression on her pale face, and sat down beside him. Balled up but visible in one fist was a bit of parchment. A minute later, she was sobbing.

Comforting words did not even approach Severus's mind. "Can I help you?" he asked. She continued to cry, apparently as apathetic to his presence as he was annoyed by hers. Or perhaps she simply had not noticed him at all. After a while, Alexa Kyle's tears subsided, and Severus repeated his inquiry. She looked at him curiously, searching his dark eyes for something that she did not find.

"My parents are dead," she said quietly.

Oh.

He wanted to say: "And this is the only bench you could find?" but instead stared blankly at her.

"My parents were murdered." No sadness, no plea for pity: a simple, dark explanation was all she provided. "I never said goodbye."

Severus continued to stare.

Alexa Kyle stared back, brown eyes glassy and disbelieving. "Do you have parents?" the Ravenclaw whispered after a moment.

"Yes." And he wouldn't necessarily mind seeing his father dead.

Alexa looked away, down at the parchment in her hands. Then (and maybe she suddenly realized how terribly awkward this was, or maybe she had no clear idea of reality at that moment), the witch rose, leaving as unexpectedly as she had arrived.

Severus was left alone again.

He did not know Alexa Kyle... he had never spoken to her before. She must have had friends and a life, likes and habits, dislikes, talents, and quirks. She must have meant something to someone, but she meant nothing to him. How very strange...

Her parents were murdered... the parchment balled up in her hand… Severus had no doubt that it was one of the black-sealed letters from the Ministry... that it announced the cause of death... that the so-called death eaters were involved.

Severus was alone for several minutes, before he became too uncomfortable with his solitary thoughts. The Slytherin got to his feet with no clear idea of where he was headed. He moved down the lonely corridor, eyes and concentration trained on the stone floor, so that only as he rounded the corner did he notice two others in the hallway.

Potter and Black.

"What are you doing here?" Snape asked, additional anger in his voice simply because he had been taken by surprise.

"Same question, Snivellus," Black retorted.

"I have a note from Healer Holloway," Severus lied easily. An idea occurred to him. "I'm a prefect. I could dock points." He made eye contact with James Potter, hoping to see some flicker of worry there. The Slytherin was sadly disappointed.

"Will that make you feel important?"

Few words could have been so provocative to Snape just then... what was it about that git James Potter? How did he set up every situation so that it seemed every option gave him exactly what he wanted?

"You're not worth my time," replied Severus.

"Right. Of course." As predicted, Potter wore a faint smirk, like he had won. Snape waited for the next verbal assault, the verbal assault that would escalate the encounter. It occurred to Severus that this was the chance he had been waiting for... Potter and Black. Of course, there were no witnesses—he was supposed to bring one of the others for a witness... but never mind it: they could sift through his memories later, if they doubted. Then, Potter spoke to Black: "Let's go, yeah?"

"Your call, old man," Sirius Black responded casually.

Severus watched them turn to leave, confused though he didn't show it. They were walking—strutting, really—away. There seemed to be no thought in either idiot's mind that Snape could still act, and as he realized this, Severus realized that he might not. His hand felt the wand in his pocket, wondering briefly if he was going to attack.

The two Gryffindors were chatting cheerfully about something or other.

Hester's face appeared in Snape's mind—mocking and distrusting. Then there was Lily—Lily sitting besides Potter in the Great Hall all those months ago, Lily reverently cursing his name... then, Lily looking at Severus with shining green eyes, with admiration and awe, as he showed how superior he was to that giant prat James Potter... how everyone in school was proved wrong in their hero-worship of the Gryffindor, shocked to learn that he, that Severus Snape, truly possessed the power.

His wand was out in half a second. "Pulsevette!" Snape cursed in his mind, wanted pointed at Sirius Black... he hated Black, of course, but right now it was Potter that he wanted.

Black flew forward, hitting a wall and flopping to the floor like a dummy. Then, before Potter had time to even register that anything had happened to his friend, Snape had murmured: "Levicorpus!"

James flipped over, levitated in the air upside-down.

The Unforgivable Curses running frantically through his mind, Snape found himself briefly distracted. He forgot to disarm Potter.

Snape felt his legs swept out from under him and a pain in his arm; he flew backward from the force of Potter's hex and lost control of his own spell. The Gryffindor crashed to the ground, just as Snape hit the ground some distance away. He landed luckily, however, and was getting to his feet in a matter of seconds. Potter recovered quicker, however. A disarming spell not only ripped his wand from Severus's hand, but tossed him backwards as well.

Severus groaned—what was wrong with him? That was twice now he'd been caught off guard. Potter was mending his legs, and this time, it was Snape who recovered quicker.

He got to his feet, limped over to his wand, and disarmed Potter—who had just finished fixing his legs and remained on the floor.

The Gryffindor wore a defiant expression as his opponent approached, wand pointed at his heart. Severus barely recognized this fact. He suddenly found himself caught up in what was about to happen...

This was it.

This was the chance to prove himself... to prove himself to Potter and to Lucius Malfoy and to Hester and to everyone. One word, Crucio, and then it would all begin. Merlin knew he had had enough hatred for James Potter inside of him... it would be so easy... so beautifully simple (and gratifying) to do an Unforgivable Curse.

Unforgivable.

The word brought Lily's face to mind once again, but it was not shining with admiration this time... it was just Lily... "Be good," she'd said...

Unforgivable.

Severus hesitated.

He hesitated a moment to long—pain in his legs, unsteadiness, and then his body tumbling backwards... he had stepped too close to Potter, and the Gryffindor had kicked his kneecap. Snape might have fallen to the ground, but James was up in a moment, grabbing his wrist, which—while disarming him—gave the Slytherin a moment to steady himself... only a moment.

Rage burned in Potter's eyes. No one seemed to have control of the scene—James powerless against his anger and Severus powerless without his wand. Potter threw a punch. Severus hit the ground.

Pain.

Severus had experienced more than his share of punches—this wasn't the most painful, but it ranked. However, as he straightened up, bleeding but trying to ignore it, Severus fixed his expression to apathy. He saw that the violence had not diminished James Potter's anger at all. This was the sort of rage that was not released in a solitary sock. This was the sort of rage that did not bode well for Snape.

Two wands posed on the Slytherin, Potter stared hatefully down at him. Any second now, a hex, a jinx... something. And yet...

"What the hell is your problem?" Potter demanded. Severus made certain not to show the confusion that such question caused him... his problem? Had there ever needed to be a problem before? This was just them—what they did. Why did Potter seem to be taken by surprise?

Severus was waiting for the hex meant to pay him back for silence and uncooperativeness, and his bewilderment only heightened as James did not raise either wand (his own or Snape's) in attack. Rather, he raised on arm over his head and threw Severus's wand as far as he could. James did not look at Snape, but the unexercised anger on his face remained. Still, the Gryffindor turned on his heel as the wand clattered to the ground far beyond Snape. He jogged towards where Black was beginning to recover.

Snape wasted no time getting to his feet. He practically sprinted to where his wand had fallen (ignoring the throbbing pain in his right cheekbone) and had fled the scene before either Gryffindor noticed he was gone.

(January 18th, 1977)

"I've had no opportunity," Severus lied easily. Among the five others, only Hester looked disbelieving.

"We were alone in the corridor with Mary Macdonald last week," Hester pointed out coldly—he was uncharacteristically vocal that evening, Severus noted. Usually Hester shied away from speaking (unless spoken to) when Lucius Malfoy met with them.

"I have a specific target in mind," said Severus, wondering why oh why he had not performed the Unforgivable on Potter when he'd had the chance. "I'm not going to waste an opportunity."

"There is a certain elegance to a planned target," Malfoy agreed. For once, he had not come alone to the Hogs' Head that evening. A tall, slim man with salt-and-pepper facial hair and a narrow, angular face sat beside Malfoy. He was much older than his cohort, and remained something of a silent observer throughout. The wizard had not been introduced or, indeed, mentioned at all since their arrival some twenty minutes prior. At Lucius' words, the wizard inclined his head slightly, as if in agreement.

"I agree," Hester said at once. "I am simply afraid that Severus is having second thoughts." He shot a nasty look in Snape's direction. Avery looked uncomfortable, and Mulciber glared at Hester. Severus found himself unexpectedly grateful for that.

"How sweet," he deadpanned. "But if we're to be working at Hogwarts, as Lucius wants, we might do better not to get ourselves thrown out before seventh year."

Malfoy cleared his throat. "That brings me to something else," he said smoothly. "As some of you know, this is Alec Rosier." The death eater indicated to his companion. "The... Master..." (in a somewhat quieter tone), "has asked that Rosier aid me in my communications with the group at Hogwarts." That meant the four of them—Mulciber, Avery, Hester, and Snape—as they were all quite aware.

"Aid?" asked Snape sharply. "With the four of us?"

Rosier smiled slightly at Malfoy. "He is quick," the former murmured, before continuing, this time to Severus, "The four of you are the beginning. We hope to expand sympathies to the cause within Hogwarts. Once you all have proved your loyalty, this will become your task."

"Recruiting?" Mulciber clarified. Rosier nodded.

"There are plenty of others who would want to join," said Hester quickly. "I know there are."

"You haven't spoken to them about these meetings, have you?" snapped Malfoy. Hester shook his head quickly, and Severus was pleased to see fear in his narrow eyes.

"Of course not, no!"

Malfoy still looked distrustful as Rosier continued: "Over the next few weeks, the four of you will put together a list of names of those you think may be compatible for this sort of job. You are not to directly mention the real possibility of joining us, however. If a lead turns sour, you will want deniability. You will need deniability."

The four students nodded.

"We will meet again on the thirty-first," said Malfoy coolly. "I will owl you the specifications, Mulciber." Mulciber nodded. "Until then, Severus, I expect you to be working on your... assignment."

"Naturally."

"And," Malfoy continued, "while I appreciate the need for caution, we must be moving forward with this. Hester, you may also begin your assignment. Is that understood?" It was. "You might be wise to take an example from Mr. Snape and his caution, Hester. Do not make a scene."

(January 21st, 1976)

It was a Hufflepuff girl—a fifth year, with pale blond hair, blue eyes, and a soft, curvaceous figure. She was a prefect, and the fact that she was quite pretty had guaranteed the girl her share of boyfriends over the year. Still, despite the fairly extensive list of boys who could claim having taken this girl to Hogsmeade, she did not possess what one might call a "reputation." She was a "good girl." Except, now, that meant nothing, because, as it happened, Saul Hester did not make that list of boys... and not for lack of offering.

The girl—her name was Maggie—was still under the spell when she slipped out of the Slytherin Common Room an hour later. The expression on her lovely face was as blank as before, for which Severus found himself grateful. His knowing what had happened made him ill enough, without having to see it spelled across her face... how fearful she had looked when Hester disarmed her in the corridor... how odd it had been to see all sentiency disappear with the wave of a wand, the muttering of a simple word...

Imperio.

Hester did not appear for some time; Mulciber, Avery, and Snape all sat in the Common Room with the unspoken expectation that the fourth member of the strangely formed group would return from the dormitory soon. Mulciber and Avery played chess by the fire—a relatively pointless endeavor, as Avery never stood a chance. Severus had book.

"Pretty clever of him, wasn't it?" Avery mused while Mulciber momentarily deliberated over a move. To Severus's surprise, Mulciber made a disgusted sort of sound.

"Pathetic is more accurate," he corrected coldly. Mulciber sounded neither remorseful nor worried—simply annoyed, as if Hester's vices were an inconsiderate waste of time.

"At least he did his Unforgivable," murmured Avery, with a suspicious sidelong glance at Snape. Mulciber took his knight.

"Careful, Avery."

Severus, meanwhile, ignored Avery's unsubtle hint and pretended to concentrate on his book until Hester arrived from the boys' dormitory a few minutes later.

"Good evening," he said, clearly pleased with himself. Snape rolled his eyes. "Is something wrong, Severus?"

"Nothing's wrong with me," replied the other.

Hester scowled, but made no argument on the matter. "It's such a relief," he continued instead, "knowing that I have what it takes."

"Apparently," said Severus to Mulciber, "'what it takes' for Saul here to bed a girl is the Imperius." Mulciber smirked.

"What I meant," snapped Hester, "is that I have what it takes to join the cause. I had no difficulty following Malfoy's orders."

Severus made a pretense of surprise. "You didn't know you 'had what it takes' before? That's odd... you spent all that time brown-nosing to Malfoy, and you didn't even know if you could go through with it until now..."

Nothing seemed to be getting on Hester's nerves just now. "I wonder, Severus, that you haven't tried the Imperio by now. My approach might mean you actually make some progress with that Mudblood of yours."

It was all that Severus could do not to kill Hester on the spot. He felt his hand shaking, hoping that Snape would give in to the urge to draw his wand and practice a completely different Unforgivable Curse on Saul Hester. And yet, the thought of all that such an action would cost him, gave Snape just enough pause to resist.

"Severus has a nobler subject in mind," said Mulciber, lazily putting Avery's King in check. "And more powerful magic, too, isn't that correct, Snape?" Severus bowed his head. "The crucio on James Potter..." Mulciber continued, touching his jaw gingerly, undoubtedly recalling the number said Gryffindor had done to it back in September. "I hope I'm there to see it. It will be extremely gratifying."

Mulciber grinned as he check-mated Avery; Severus glared at Hester, who, inexplicably, still looked self-satisfied. The certainty of Hester's expression did not put Snape in any kind of ease.

(January 30th, 1976)

Outside the library well after supper that day, Severus struggled with normal breathing, as the memory of Hester's innuendo lodged itself in his mind. The Slytherin forced his mind to other thoughts—a talent he had developed well over the years. Then, fixing a casual expression in his face, Snape stepped into the library, returning to the table he had deserted fifteen minutes prior.

"Sorry," he said briskly to the redhead who sat there, "Mulciber needed to talk to me. It wasn't important—just homework rubbish... that pokey third year needn't have looked so frantic." Snape took a seat: his story was only very slightly true. Mulciber had wanted to speak to him, but the subject matter was not homework. Mulciber had sent the "pokey third year" to bring Snape to the Common Room so that he could tell him the time Malfoy had assigned for their meeting the next evening. Mulciber had also, unsubtly, alluded to the Unforgivable Curse that Snape had yet to perform. "So, did you figure out the answer to number four? I think it might have to do with..." Snape broke off, noting the expression on Lily's face. Her eyes were wide, staring with frightened disbelief up at him. "What's wrong?"

Lily was lost for words, however. She pointed to something on their table, as Severus returned to his seat. A dead spider lay near the corner of Severus's potions book.

"It's only a spider," Snape pointed out, bewildered. Lily looked up at him.

"Is it dead?" she whispered. "I thought it was."

"Yes, it's dead," said Snape, still confused. "What's the matter, Lily?"

"I didn't mean to," Lily went on, "I just... I didn't know..."

"Lily, what in God's name is wrong with you?" demanded Snape impatiently. "It's a spider! What's gotten into you?"

Lily's frightened expression shifted quickly; she looked from the spider to Snape, fury in her green eyes. "What the hell is your problem?" she asked, perhaps a bit too loudly, as the librarian, Mrs. Sevoy, glared in their direction. "How could you, Sev?" Lily pressed, slightly quieter.

"I didn't do anything!" Severus insisted. "What are you on about?"

Lily grabbed the copy of Advanced Potion-Making that Severus had left on the table. She shoved it in his face, and Severus saw the page that Lily must have been reading while he was gone to see Mulciber. In one corner, scribbled in Severus's unmistakable handwriting, were the words: "Sectumsempra—for enemies."

"You were looking through my things?" Snape demanded, hoping to distract Lily enough that he might come up with some kind of excuse.

"You invented a horrible spell," retorted Lily furiously. "And don't deny that it's one of yours—you always write the spells that you make up in the margins of your books... I've seen it a dozen times! I didn't—I didn't know what the spell... thought I'd test it out and... the spider, it... it just ripped open... tore like silk!" It was, Severus reflected, the most poetic way such a thing could have been phrased. "What does this mean 'for enemies?" Lily demanded, eyes quite narrow now.

"It was... it was a joke," lied Severus, lethargically defensive. "I didn't make it up, I swear. I was reading and it came up—I didn't have any parchment, so I scribbled it in the book... I wanted to look it up, and when I did, the description was... well, you know how those old books are... grandiose, dramatic language, even when they're talking about something a bit sick... it was almost comical, so I wrote the 'for enemies' bit..."

"This is funny to you?" Lily snapped.

"'Course not," said Severus. "But the effects are much more dramatic on a little spider like that... I'm sure if you used it on a person, they wouldn't... y'know..."

"Die?"

"Yes."

Lily didn't look satisfied.

"Listen, Lily, I'm sorry. But, c'mon, you shouldn't just use spells when you don't know what they do. And why were you looking through my Potions book?"

Lily's expression softened considerably, and she blushed faintly. "I was—I was seeing if you drew in the margins... the cartoons, like you used to."

"In third year?"

She shrugged. "I liked them." They were a quiet, before Lily straightened up in her seat and cleared her throat. "All right. New topic."

Relieved, Severus cast his mind about for a more cheerful subject. "Are you having a good birthday?"

Lily smiled. "I am, actually. I mean, the thing at breakfast was a little awkward..."

"I had no idea Cam Burkhart was in love with you," Severus agreed, wondering if he sounded jealous. Lily didn't seem to notice.

"And now everyone in the school is well-aware of that fact," she said, frowning. "But over all, it's been nice. Mary and Marlene felt so rotten about forgetting they swore they'd throw me a half-birthday party in the summer..."

"I thought you spent your half-birthday with your mother every year?" Severus pointed out. It was an easy detail to remember: every July 30th, Lily closed herself off from just about everyone, and she celebrated her birthday on its sixth month mark, just her and her mum. It was "their day," as Lily put it.

"Right," said the redhead. "My mate's will just have to throw me a half-birthday-and-one-day party. If they remember this time..." She seemed sufficiently distracted, returning to her Potions homework. Severus did so as well. At length, however, the Gryffindor looked up from her book, propping her chin up on her hand. "Hey, Sev?"

"Mhm?"

"Did you see Maggie Snow at the prefect meeting?"

Snape swore his heart stopped beating for a moment, but showed no such shock. Maggie Snow—Hester's Hufflepuff friend. "Er... yeah. She was there. Longbottom put her and Lupin on patrols for next week, right?"

Lily nodded. "She looked ill, don't you think? Pale, right? And like she was about to start crying..."

"I didn't notice anything," Snape lied casually.

"I spoke to her after the meeting," Lily went on. Snape felt suddenly cold, not because he thought Maggie Snow would divulge what she had done (what had happened to her), and not because he feared any kind of discovery—even if Hester was thick enough to allow Maggie to retain the memory of the casting of the Imperius Curse, she only ever caught sight of Hester... Snape would be in no way implicated. It was simply the association of Lily with Maggie—Lily with what had occurred to Maggie, and what Hester had implied ought to be done with Lily herself... Snape almost shuddered.

"Did she say anything?" He kept apprehension out of his voice.

Lily shook her head. "She was skiddish... didn't make eye contact. I'm worried about her."

"Why? Are you two mates?" It was a stupid question. Lily worried about everyone. Far too much, if you asked Snape...

"Not particularly... I used to help her out in potions... she's just such a cheerful person typically, and... it's odd. Maybe she's had some trouble with her family... like Alexa Kyle."

That was a whole new topic that Severus did not want to explore. "Listen, Lily, I've really got to finish this homework..."

"Oh, right." Awoken from a thoughtful trance, Lily dipped her quill in the inkwell and concentrated on her own homework. Severus breathed deeply, but not freely, and attempted to do the same.

(January 31st, 1976)

"Is this all?" Alec Rosier demanded, eying the short list of names that Mulciber had handed over. Even in the dim lighting of the Hogs' Head room, Severus could see irritation etched in every line of Rosier's aging face. "Five names? And all of them from Slytherin? These are the only people you think might be interested in joining?"

"You wouldn't want anyone else, would you?" asked Hester, surprised. "I mean—from outside of Slytherin?"

"It might be useful," Malfoy noted, more calm than Rosier by far. "Don't worry, Alec. They'll have more names the next time we meet. Won't you, Severus?"

Snape nodded. Hester scowled. It was clear he could not stand how much attention Snape seemed to be receiving at these meetings. Mulciber was already recognized as the "leader" of the four, and Avery wisely never expected to be anything more than muscle, and so Hester found himself fading into the background, an idea he did not particularly relish.

"I performed my Imperius Curse," he said, rather smugly. "The others will witness to it." Mulciber nodded.

"Very good," said Malfoy, pleased. "Everything went smoothly? No questions have been asked."

"No," said Hester.

"That's not quite true," Snape interjected, suddenly inspired. "Questions have been asked. The girl does not seem to be suffering in silence, and people have noticed."

"What do you mean?" asked Mulciber quickly. "The Hufflepuff's been talking?"

"No..."

"And nor will she," Hester defended himself at once. "I made sure of that."

"People have begun to notice that the girl looks... ill," said Severus. "She was jumpy and skiddish at the prefect's meeting, and some of the others were asking questions..."

"Some of the others?" demanded Hester. "I know what you mean, Snape. Lily Evans was asking questions, is that right?"

Snape shrugged. "I don't remember who said what, to be honest."

Hester turned furiously to Malfoy. It was like a scene from a dream, Snape realized. He knew what was about to happen—he could feel it, and yet he was powerless to stop it. "Snape hasn't performed his Unforgivable Curse, yet," said Hester loudly. "I don't think he's sincere. I don't trust him coming here... not with all that time he's been spending with the Mudblood Evans..."

"Calm down, Hester," ordered Malfoy coldly. "That's a serious accusation."

"Then why hasn't he done what you've asked him yet?" Hester practically shouted. "Why does he keep putting off the Unforgivable Curse?" Even Snape did not have the answer to that.

Malfoy looked at Severus. "Well?"

"No opportunity," was all Snape said.

"Bullshit," roared Hester. "If he had wanted to..."

"Quiet, boy," interrupted Rosier. Hester fell silent. "We meet again in two weeks—is that correct?" Malfoy nodded. "Why don't we give Mr. Snape until then... February the fourteenth... to pass his test? If he fails, we shall review whether or not he is fit to continue with us?" There was a threat in Rosier's tone—if Severus failed to do this, they would not simply allow him to bow out. There would be consequences... quite likely fatal ones.

"I agree," said Malfoy. Snape breathed. Two weeks—plenty of time. He could do it the very next morning—all he had to do was ignore that strange feeling in his stomach and that irritating voice in his head... the Lily-sounding one... That could be done. He'd done it before, after all. "But I'm afraid an unforgivable curse is not enough anymore."

Snape grew cold.

"Severus," Malfoy continued, like a teacher speaking to a favorite pupil. "Hester no longer trusts you. I do, but... we cannot have lingering questions about your loyalties."

"Of course not," Snape tried to interrupt, but Malfoy did not allow him to continue.

"Your test is no longer simply to judge if you can perform this kind of magic," the older wizard went on. "Your very dedication to the cause must now be proved. Is that understood?" Severus nodded. "Which is why I think it prudent that you resolve your friends' doubts about your relationship with Lily Evans."

"I am not sure I understand you," said Severus, the apathy in his voice in complete opposition to the panic he felt.

"Your Unforgivable Curse," said Malfoy, "you will perform it on Lily Evans."

A/N: I don't think any of the Chapter 13 teasers were fulfilled in this chapter... but there's some serious teaser-fulfillment in the next chapter, which is the Valentine's Day chapter :-). That should be interesting.

And, for your own information, because it's way too much bother to research: Nov 2: Snape's first proto-Death-Eater meeting, just after Lily and James have the "smoking-slash-let's-be-friends" conversation (Ch. 7). Nov 13: random potions class, sometime before Severus gives Lily the "him or me" ultimatum. Dec 5: Snape-Lucius interaction... sometime after Sev gives Lily the "him or me" ultimatum. Dec 12: When Sev is "sick" during Ch. 10 "The Connection," during the course of which Sirius, Lily, and James investigate the suicides-ish. Dec 20: Just before Lily goes home for Xmas, between Chapters 10 and 11. Jan 15: Lucius gives the Slytherins their "task" just before Chapter 14. Jan 16-17: during Chapter 14. The rest is "new" time.

Much, much love to the anonymous reviewers: untitled 1494 (happy to oblige on the James-quitting front! I know a lot of people were looking forward to that. This was a Snape-centric chapter, but we'll have plenty of Lily-centric chapters in the future... no fear, inner angst abounds!), anniefollowsthemusic (thanks for the lovely, lengthy review! It is always appreciated! I'm really glad you're enjoying the story, and I hope this answers your "what is up with Snape?" question. Hope you liked the chapter!), helene (thanks for the review! Ya, I like doing the romantic angle subtly, because I really suck at fluff... really, really suck at it. In fact, for me, this is 'laying it on thick,' lol. James didn't tell Lily how he felt because she was so sad about how complicated her life was just then, and he didn't want to add to that. And he did quit, at least partially, because of her... mostly he quit because he wants to change himself a bit), and LEJP (wow, I'm honored that you chose to review me, lol! Thank you for everything you said—it's very encouraging, and I'm really happy that you're enjoying the story! I hadn't even thought of that scene in Ben Button, but you're right: they're similar. I never understood how Benjamin could know all of those details... he wasn't even there! Lol, anyway, thanks again! Hope you enjoyed this chapter!)

Reviews are LESS THAN THREE WEEKS TILL CHRISTMAS!

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Jewels