1971-1972: A Chat Over Tea

In the few weeks that followed, Snape more or less learnt how to avoid his housemates. It was impossible to avoid them completely, but he was spending as little time as possible around them. Unsurprisingly, neither of them approved of his friendship with Lily and had decided that beating it out of him was the best course of action. What was more interesting, however, was the fact that Potter and Black held similar opinions about said friendship and had come up with a similar solution to the 'problem'. It hadn't taken much time for Snape to decide who Peeves' unlucky victim would be. Except McGonagall, of course.

In those cold November days, the Hogwarts students preferred the castle's relative warmth to the freezing cold outside. The snow hadn't yet covered the ground, but everyone could tell from the chilly air that winter was fast approaching these northern parts of Britain. The few dozens of hearths lit around the castle were a blessing for all. Even the Slytherins (who lived in the cold dungeons anyway) chose to stay in their warm common room, the Great Hall or the Library, and tried to avoid spending too much time in the cool corridors.

Severus couldn't say he liked the cold. Truth be told, he actually detested it, but over the last few years, deprived of a warm house to escape the chilly winters, he'd grown accustomed to it. And in any case, he much preferred it over having to spend his time in a place with fifty other noisy students. And so, he'd picked an unused room on the fourth floor, dumped his school bag on the floor and spread his books on one of the desks.

He could say with utmost certainty that Transfiguration was his weakest subject. Which was not ideal at all, since it was not Sev's thing either and in fact, they'd both deemed that Severus was the better of the two when it came to this particular branch of magic. Perhaps the worst part about it were McGonagall's thrice damned essays. The Snapes may not be good at Transfiguration when it came to the practical part, but if something was written on paper, sooner or later both twins would have it engraved in their memory. Still, nothing could justify the blasted witch's requirements for an essay long at least a foot and a half. It didn't help that Black and Potter were reportedly (by Lily) doing great in this class. So it was with great reluctance that Severus sat down, and pulled a quill and a roll of parchment.

Schoolwork was something he, in contrast to many others, didn't mind. It included reading, which he loved, and writing, which — and this may come as a surprise to some — he enjoyed as well. And when it came to magic, he most likely would've done the same research even without someone expecting it of him. He realised he acted like a little child sometimes, but magic was something he'd been denied practically his whole life and now that he had access to it without having to constantly worry that his parents might find his wand, he simply couldn't get enough of it. He wanted to learn as much about magic as was humanly possible.

An embarrassingly long time after he'd started writing the bloody essay, Severus finally got to put his things back in his bag and stretch his stiff limbs. He'd been so engrossed in his work that he'd lost track of time and when he glanced up at the clock hanging on one of the walls, he found it was well past curfew.

Careful to keep silent now, he slowly opened the door and stepped into the hallway. He could probably afford to be a bit louder, it was unlikely that anyone would set foot in this part of the castle, but he decided to play it safe, and crept close to the wall, doing his best to make as little noise as possible. One useful thing he'd learnt while living under one roof along with his father.

Severus had made it to the second floor when he spotted a dim light wobbling at the end of the corridor. Thankfully, an alcove nearby made for a good hiding spot and he probably would've stayed unnoticed if it weren't for a shabby grey cat whose yellow eyes glistered in the dark as though looking for prey. A loud hiss echoed through the corridor when it spotted a small boy curled up in one of the many alcoves spread around the castle.

Uneven steps followed, slowly getting closer and closer to where Severus was currently weighing his options. There was no doubt the ugly man (not that Severus was one to talk, but he liked to ignore that fact) approaching was Filch, the caretaker. He'd heard some pretty nasty things about the man. Apparently, Filch rejoiced in watching students suffer and had been very vocal against the order prohibiting corporal punishment from 1969 when Dumbledore had been appointed as Headmaster. The poor caretaker had only been able to have 'fun' for a single year after taking the job from his predecessor Apollyon Pringle.

Try as he might, Severus couldn't find a single thing he might gain by staying rooted in his spot, so he chose his only other option and sprinted toward the other end of the hallway. He'd never actually met Filch before, so there was practically no chance the man would recognize him, meaning he only had to get out of sight and he'd be safe.

He took a left turn and leaned on the wall to take a few breaths, then took the marble staircase to the ground floor, and was about to turn right to the Slytherin dungeons, when he was met by the stern look of one Professor McGonagall.

"Mr Snape." Severus gulped and scanned his surroundings, but there was no getting out of this one. "And what exactly are you doing here—" She glanced at her watch. "—two hours after curfew?"

"Sorry, Professor. I was doing my Transfiguration homework and lost track of time."

McGonagall raised both her eyebrows and stared at him disbelievingly.

"Don't take me for a fool, Mr Snape. Neither the Great Hall, nor the Library, are in the direction you came from. Now try again, with the truth this time, if you will."

Severus had to admit the truth didn't sound the least bit truthful. Had he tried to lie, this would've been the last thing he'd have said.

"It's the truth! I was in a classroom on the fourth floor. There were too many people in the Library."

McGonagall stared at him sceptically for a long second, then turned toward the staircase leading down to the dungeons.

"Ten points from Slytherin, and I'll watch you get into your House."

With that, she descended the stairs, the pale boy trailing behind her. They were just getting past the second door when Severus caught a glimpse of the Bloody Baron's misty grey figure. That ghost had given him quite the scare the first time he'd seen him, but now he gave him something else. An idea, or more precisely - a reminder of a debt he owed to a certain other spirit.

And now came the problem with the whole singing part. He didn't even know how loud he'd have to sing so that the man could hear him, not to mention his questionable singing abilities. Would it be enough if he just whispered it or would he have to actually sing in front of his teacher?

After miserably failing to summon the annoying poltergeist by whispering so low that he himself couldn't tell if it was a whisper or just the whistling sound of his robes, Severus settled on muttering the words, more reciting than singing, and prayed that whatever spirit had always been against him would close their eyes today and let him have this one happy moment.

And then, for some unfathomable reason, it did. Just as McGonagall was turning to him (perhaps to ask the obvious question of what the hell was wrong with him!?), the poltergeist appeared right in front of her and Severus could swear he'd seen the woman jump at least five inches up into the air.

"Lil old Professor McAroni and my dear friend Snapey Stagioni! Out for a romantic walk, I see... They've messed up the dungeons for the night sky, maybe?"

Both Severus and McGonagall stood stunned in their places, not sure how they were supposed to reply to that. They weren't given much time to do so either, because Peeves moved to the next step of his plan (if he even had one) almost immediately, snatching McGonagall's pointed hat, and waiving it high in the air. As high as the dungeon's low ceiling would allow, anyway. Severus pressed his lips together to keep the grin from his face.

"Peeves! Stop this mummery right this second!" When the poltergeist continued flying around with her hat, McGonagall added, "I saw the Bloody Baron pass through here a few minutes ago. He can't have gone far."

This time Peeves appeared more apprehensive of her words and retreated to the wall, legs first and still waiving the hat until his hand too disappeared behind the stones. Picking the hat up from the ground, McGonagall placed it back on her head and gestured for Severus to follow her. Neither commented on what had occurred, and the awkward silence seemed to drag forever until the boy finally reached his dorm and climbed into his bed.

Saturday, November 13th, 1971

The chilly weather was put on hold today. From time to time, one could even catch a glimpse of the sun before it disappeared again behind the thick wall of grey clouds. Perhaps this was the reason hundreds of students were currently seated around the Quidditch Pitch, waiting for Madam Hooch to announce the start of the first game for the season.

Between sitting squashed in a crowd of Slytherins and sitting squashed in a crowd of Gryffindors, Seuthes had chosen neither. He thought Quidditch to be the wizarding equivalent of muggle football, which meant he wasn't the least bit interested in it. And so, he now found himself wandering about in the deserted corridors of the castle. It was there that he almost bumped into the tall Headmaster, who had just appeared from around the corner.

"Uh- Sorry, sir," Seuthes mumbled and tried to walk past, but stopped when Dumbledore addressed him.

"Don't worry, Mr... Snape, was it?" the man said, smiling. Taken aback by the fact that the Headmaster recognized him, Seuthes stared, but after a moment collected himself and nodded. Dumbledore looked at him curiously. "Are you not interested in the match today, then? I hear it will be quite the tight game."

"I don't really like Quidditch, Professor."

"I see." Dumbledore stroked his long beard pensively, looking at him with that weird curiosity Seuthes had noticed earlier. "Well, why don't you accompany me on my little walk around the grounds?" Seuthes' eyebrows shot into his forehead, making the man in front of him chuckle. "If you want, of course."

Not really sure if that last part actually meant he could decline the invitation, the boy nodded.

"Very well. What do you say I show you a little exit just over here to the left? Now, don't go telling everyone where it is, or it will become a bit too overpopulated. I'm afraid I've made the same mistake in the past."

Dumbledore chuckled again and his twinkling blue eyes met Seuthes' black ones for a second, before the boy averted his gaze.

"I'd be honoured, sir."

To his surprise, the Headmaster led him up a flight of stairs, and the two came to a stop in front of a solid stone wall. Dumbledore studied it for a moment and appeared to be counting something.

"There it is! It should be this one." He tapped his wand against one of the stones. The wall quivered slightly before an archway appeared in it. The opening greatly resembled the entrance to Diagon Alley, down to the way it had formed, though one could hardly miss the difference in size. Seuthes peaked through the hole and jumped backwards as soon as he saw where it led. This time he did bump into the Headmaster behind him. The wall had opened on the second floor of the castle, and over the cliff no less, about twenty metres above the Lake, with no stairs or a balcony whatsoever.

"Ah, no need to hurry, Mr Snape. Though I admit, jumping might save us a minute or two," Dumbledore said.

With a flick of his wand, the exterior wall extended outwards, forming a nice wide staircase and a tall railing that somewhat lessened the boy's anxiety. Seemingly pleased with his bit of work, the Headmaster then stepped onto the newly formed steps outside. He had to practically bend in two to preserve his head while going through the little archway, and even Seuthes, with his impressive height of just over 130 cm, ducked just in case.

Keeping one hand firmly planted on the wall, the Slytherin finally managed to get to the ground and release the nervous breath he'd been holding the whole time he had been on the stairs. Why he had agreed to this... whatever it was... Seuthes didn't know. Behind him, the staircase retracted back into the wall.

The pathway Dumbledore chose was long and winding, but much less steep and definitely more relaxing than the other ones around the Lake. Even with the Headmaster's presence next to him, Seuthes found the walk quite enjoyable. He hadn't spent much time outside in these past few weeks and with the fug inside of the trunk, he'd actually missed some fresh air. That Dumbledore didn't insist on talking made it only better.

They had walked in silence for some time, when the path curved more toward the water and Seuthes noticed the other man slow his pace.

"I'm afraid Hagrid has asked me to give a treat to the Giant Squid," Dumbledore gestured toward the Lake. "You can stay here if you don't want to come near it."

With that, the man stepped on the shore and extracted a bag of fish from somewhere inside his robes. He waved a hand in the air and the water around him rippled, the waves slowly moving toward the middle of the Lake. A moment later Seuthes noticed one of the creature's tentacles rise above the surface and move toward the path until it was close enough that Dumbledore could touch it. Emptying the bag at the edge of the water, the man waited until the Squid had taken the fish and retreated back into the Lake, then turned to his student, who was still standing a few metres back.

Seuthes was staring at him with a mixture of shock and awe. He knew about the Squid, of course, but he'd imagined it was a beast, not a... pet. The sight of Albus Dumbledore feeding it was not something he'd expected to experience in his lifetime.

"The Giant Squid has an unfairly bad reputation," the Headmaster explained, once they had resumed their walk. Seuthes couldn't recall saying more than a sentence the whole time they'd been together, but the man was yet to address that fact. He didn't seem to mind being the only one talking. "People often confuse one's exterior for their interior." Seuthes hummed his agreement. "And you, Mr Snape? Do you?"

The Slytherin startled a bit at being asked to speak for the first time in at least half an hour. He pondered the question for some time until he came up with an agreeable response.

"I guess. I've found most people have an ugly interior regardless of their exterior."

Dumbledore looked at him for a second, then moved his gaze back to the trail before him, and nodded.

"But that is seldom true amongst your peers, Mr Snape. Your souls haven't yet had the chance to get tainted." Seuthes huffed almost inaudibly but it didn't escape the Headmaster's notice. "I believe you can trust me on that. The Sorting Hat is rarely wrong in its assessment of character."

The boy stiffened at that and though it went unnoticed by his student, a small smile crept on Dumbledore's lips.

"What did the Hat say about me, then?"

If the man himself had brought the topic, Seuthes might as well try to learn if the blasted thing had shared anything harmful.

"Ah, I can't say I didn't anticipate this question. You will find, however, that the Hat is rarely forthcoming when it comes to its knowledge. As far as I know, there have only been a handful of times when it has warned the faculty about a potentially dangerous student. None of them are at the school now."

That wasn't exactly reassuring, but it suggested the Hat hadn't actually shared the Snapes' secret. After all, if one were to believe the curse, they were potentially dangerous.

Silence settled again between them as they reached the other side of the Black Lake and turned to another path up the hill. It didn't take long for Seuthes to realise they weren't headed for the castle.

"Erm, sir?" He waited until Dumbledore had turned his head to him. "Where are we going?"

"I thought you might want to meet Hagrid," the other smiled and continued without further explanation. An explanation the boy wouldn't have minded, seeing as the one he'd received only raised more questions.

Soon enough, the Headmaster was knocking on the door of a wooden cabin near the Forbidden Forest.

"Afternoon, Professor Dumbledore!" the enormous man, who apparently lived in the hut, greeted as soon as he opened the door.

"Good to see you, Hagrid," Dumbledore returned and gently pushed Seuthes toward the door. "This is young Mr Snape. He has been kind enough to accompany me to the Black Lake this morning."

"Pleasure to meet yeh, Mr Snape. Well, come in both o' yeh!" Hagrid pushed the door wider and ushered them in.

The inside of the house was not much different than the outside. One could easily confuse the exterior for the interior, the boy noted snidely to himself. Not that he had any right to judge, of course, but this visit was not one he was particularly interested in, and he wasn't inclined to put too much effort in trying to appear likeable.

The hut consisted of a single room with a lit fireplace with a copper kettle boiling on top of it. A massive bed was placed opposite the fire. The large wooden table looked weirdly unused next to the other furniture, which prompted Seuthes to think it must be relatively new. A small sofa was placed on one side of it next to the wall (though, judging by Hagrid's size, he might well be using it more like an armchair than a sofa) and two big chairs were on the opposite side. The sofa was where Hagrid positioned his guests while he himself went to the fireplace to get the kettle and three mugs.

"Tea?"

Without waiting for their responses, he filled both cups to the brim and dropped on one of the wooden chairs.

Though Dumbledore thanked him, Seuthes noted he didn't go for his mug and instead pushed it a bit to the side.

"Well, erm..." the host struggled for words. "Haven' seen yeh, Mr Snape. A firs' year, I suppose?"

"Yes," said Seuthes and felt unbelievably uncomfortable for not being able to add anything else.

Aside from the miserable state of the room he was currently in, everything else was alien to him. A chat over tea with the Headmaster and a man thrice his height had not been on the list for things to do today. Nor ever, for that matter. In an attempt to hide his discomfort, the boy lifted his cup from the table and took a sip. He almost gagged at the taste and had to close his eyes before he swallowed the liquid. Whatever was in that mug, it was not tea. Pushing it across the table, Seuthes caught again that twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes he'd first seen back in the castle. A smile was playing on his lips, a smile that would've easily been considered a smirk, had it been on anyone but Albus Dumbledore's face.

"How is Spike doing, Hagrid?"

"Given me quite the scare yesterday. Didn' want teh move. Had to poke 'im, so he could eat." Seuthes' confusion must have been visible on his face because a moment later Hagrid added, "Hold on there, Professor. Gotta show Mr Snape me Spike."

The man stood and went out the back door. Next to Seuthes, Dumbledore shifted in his seat, so he could face his student.

"I can assure you, the tea is not spiked," he chuckled. "But if you promise to keep it a secret, I will tell you I can understand why you wouldn't want to drink it."

A mischievous grin almost made its way to the boy's face for the first time today. Almost, because he tried his best not to act too openly around the Headmaster.

A loud growl made both of them turn to the door.

"Easy now! Don' want teh scare the lad."

In the middle of the door frame Hagrid was standing in his full height with a large... creature... the size of a dog in his hands. The thing had four furry legs, a head that greatly resembled that of a frog with two red glowing eyes scowling at the room, and a long tail. The few horns on its head made its otherwise laughable appearance a bit more menacing.

Hagrid stepped into the room, holding the creature tightly and petting it with one hand as though it were no different than a cat. And for a moment Seuthes might have even believed that to be the case, had Spike not launched forward, revealing a large set of long, sharp teeth. In a flash, the boy jumped to the furthest part of the couch, body pressed firmly against the wall. With the corner of his eye, he caught Dumbledore placing a reassuring hand on the surface between them.

"What is that!?" breathed Seuthes. He'd straightened a bit and locked his eyes on the thing, ready to run at the first sign of danger.

"Hodag," Hagrid announced proudly and petted Spike again. He'd somehow managed to keep him in his hands. "Found 'im in the Forest few days back. Haven' seen a beautiful one like him an' he was injured, so I took 'im in."

Seuthes decided not to question the man's beauty standards. He made a mental note to check on this hodag thing in the Library.

Twenty minutes later, he was walking up the hill toward the castle. What had transpired was the last thing the boy had expected to do today. Perhaps a walk to some far part of Hogwarts, a stop at the Library and a chat with Russ. He had to write an essay for Monday Charms still, but had decided that that could wait until tomorrow. After all, there weren't many things one could do in a room the size of a bathroom. But no. All that had been replaced by a walk around the grounds and a talk with Hagrid. The last of which confused Seuthes even more than the first part. The man was... weird even without taking into account his size. Maybe Dumbledore thought this weirdness was a trait the two of them shared? But even if Seuthes was a bit strange, his weirdness was different to that of the gamekeeper. He didn't share his love for beasts, nor his endless need for chatter. The young Slytherin much preferred the quiet of deserted places, away from live beings, be it humans or animals. Why the Headmaster had insisted on this meeting was a mystery.

A mystery currently being solved in the place he'd just vacated.

"Well? How did you find the boy, Hagrid?" asked Dumbledore as he vanished the substance in his mug and replaced it with his own tea. His friend was too busy following the Slytherin's retreat with his eyes to notice.

"Bit gloomy if yeh ask me. Closed up."

Dumbledore took a sip from his drink. His own eyes followed Hagrid's out the window. Snape was just reaching the gates.

"This is what worries me," he admitted. "It appears Mr Snape has already faced the morbid side of our world. I fear not many people have shown him kindness. And a man without love is a man destined to go down a dark path."

Hagrid didn't reply. By now, he'd torn his gaze from the window and had fixed it on the table instead. His large hands were holding his hot cup on both sides. Whether it was because of the cold or because he didn't know what else to do with them, Dumbledore could only guess.

"His father is a muggle," the Headmaster said after a moment. "I doubt his housemates greeted him with open arms. I was hoping you would. He needs a person he can rely on."

"Tha's why you brought 'im here? Well, I s'ppose it wouldn' hurt nobody teh try. That boy didn't seem half bad. Don' think we have a lot in common teh talk about, though."

"Ah. Thank you, Hagrid. I am sure you will find something," Dumbledore said as he clapped his hands on his legs and stood to leave. "Don't let me bother you more than is necessary. I will see you at supper."

Hagrid, too, stood from his chair. "Yeh should come by again when yeh're not busy, Headmaster."

"Of course."