Chapter 3 – The Spy Who Lived

The first thing Severus noticed when he stumbled out of the narrow tunnel leading back to the school was the eerie silence around him. He wheezed, struggling to catch his breath. His black eyes widened when he finally raised his head from the root-covered ground, the sight in front of him startling him into silence.

An incredulous gasp found its way past his lips, the truth of Dumbledore's words finally sinking into his soul as he looked at the castle in front of him, its tall towers standing proudly against the dark, starry sky.

He swallowed hard. Upon his awakening, the most cynical part of him had spent the following twenty minutes questioning his sanity. Indeed, he'd been tempted to disregard his encounter with Dumbledore as the mere product of a dying man's fantasy.

Severus stared at the view extending before his eyes. Everything around him seemed to confirm what Dumbledore had said, because the castle in front of him looked… untouched, undamaged…

The lawn, devoid of dead bodies and ruins, was of a dark and beautiful green, the grass moving sluggishly in the slumberous breeze. A faint trace of smoke was rising slowly from Hagrid's hut, the hooting of an owl being the only thing breaking the silence around him.

Severus turned around; his eyes veiled by dark thoughts as his gaze fell on the entrance of the hidden tunnel. He stared at it as though it had transported him into a strange world.

He blinked, tracing the gnarled bark of the young tree beside him. A confused frown formed on his face, for there was something weirdly familiar about it. Still staring at the white hand pressed against the bark, Severus raised his head. With its dangerous branches still resting motionless against the sky, there stood the Whomping Willow, only a few feet taller than he was.

He staggered back, Dumbledore's words barely helping him to deal with the physical evidence that the old Headmaster hadn't been lying. It was as though someone had removed him from a nightmare and placed him in a different and eerie world; a world where no war had ever happened.

He looked up at the castle, the thought of hundreds of people sleeping quietly inside it, unaware of the horrors of the future, making him feel like an unwelcome outsider. What right did he have to intrude upon that world? A cold shiver ran down his spine as he made his way towards it, ignoring the part of him that was cynically reminding him how that he ought not to be there, for he no longer belonged to that world. A world where she was still alive.

Severus froze for a moment, his throat suddenly dry, his chest tightening. He could not think about that now.

He paused, staring at the small entrance of a hidden passageway that he had often used to leave the castle unnoticed. Trembling slightly, he tapped the door with his wand and stepped inside it. After a good five minutes he emerged in the middle of the second-floor corridor.

He gulped, his face whitening, his black wand held tightly in his unsteady hand as he prepared himself to be attacked. The castle, however, remained silent.

He raised his wand, casting a Disillusionment Charm onto himself. He felt cold and sweaty, the effort nearly causing him to lose his footing; his fingers trembling madly. He forced himself to take a deep breath, grimacing as he looked at the blurry outlines of his body.

What a pathetic display of magic, he thought, disgust clearly etched on every line of his face. He was painfully aware that the charm would not be powerful enough to fool a fully trained wizard and Severus could not afford being discovered.

His body was tense, irrational as it might be he could not forget that mere hours earlier half the staff had been determined to kill him on sight. And why wouldn't they after he had killed their beloved Headmaster? Why, Minerva-

Severus stopped dead in his track when his ears caught a muffled sound of voices.

He pressed his side against the wall, hiding in the shadows. He could feel his heart beating fast, fear flooding his brain as he realised that he was too tired to defend himself.

He waited, struggling to keep himself focused. It was only when the voices grew nearer that he realised how young they both were. Students, he thought, an unpleasant sneer forming on his young face as he sighed with relief.

Out of bed at this untimely hour of the night to do Merlin knows what. How very typical...

Had he not been both magically and physically exhausted, he would have gladly stepped out of the shadows to bring them back to their dormitories, subtracting the House points of whichever house they belonged into negative. Were they coming back from a nightly trip to the Forbidden Forest?

He had never understood the students' willingness to yearn for an early death, as if the wild rush of adrenaline they got from breaking the rules could possibly justify endangering their own lives.

Severus grimaced, feeling positively sick at the idea of launching himself in a run to chase the stupid students half way up the castle, he was too tired and old for it. He grimaced, rubbing his eyes, his mind slow to remember that he was now no older than they were and that consequentially, he too was breaking the curfew.

Severus scowled at the wall. What if it was Potter? That would surely complicated things for he wasn't sure he could successfully perform an Obliviate Charm in his current condition. He was both magically and physically exhausted as well as quite defenceless, but his Disillusionment Charm, though weak, should have been enough to keep him relatively hidden. Indeed, unless Potter had his stupid map, it would be powerful enough to fool both him and his friends.

Leaning against one of the pillars, Severus sighed, waiting for those insufferable curfew-breakers to pass him and subsequently get out of his way. Merlin knew how badly he needed a good night sleep and a few Blood-Replenishing Potions. Indeed, it was a miracle he had not fainted again; he thought, mildly embarrassed.

He felt sick at the idea of climbing all the way up to the Hospital Wing to access the Mediwitch's personal stocks. The only other option was Slughorn's office. Severus shivered. He felt cold, he rubbed his arms against his bony shoulders, his pathetic excuse for a uniform failing to offer any kind of comfort.

He looked up at the large windows on the opposite wall. It was still dark. Was it still May? With the ridiculous blood loss he had just suffered it was impossible for him to trust his perception of temperature. Another shiver ran down the length of his spine. How much he longed for the moment in which he would finally reach his personal quarters, placing himself in his favourite armchair, only a few inches from a warm, roaring fire.

His eyes closed, the shivers no longer shaking him as he anticipated that glorious moment, that was until his brain reminded him that in this time, he didn't have personal quarters. His lips twisted into a grimace. The castle, the Whomping Willow, the blood on the floor, his newfound health and youth… he would be a fool to deny the reality of it; but what about his encounter with Dumbledore? Had it been nothing but a wild dream?

No, the information shared between them had been oddly abstruse and specific, he thought, frowning again as he remembered that word…

Horcruxes

No, snake venom or not Severus did not believe this to be a product of delirium; but what about the other things Dumbledore had wanted him to acknowledge?

Lily alive and well? To hell with Dumbledore and his inane blabbering about the transcendent power of love, he would have to see it with his own eyes in order to believe it. He knew he wouldn't survive the disappointment. Severus swallowed, both hopeful and quite frankly terrified at the prospect of seeing her once again.

He flinched when the muffled sound of voices he had heard before became not only nearer, but also loud enough to be discernible.

'Come on, I don't believe you don't fancy him, everyone does, he's so gorgeous and you are so lucky! He… he likes you!'

'Good for him Loretta, because I don't! He's just an arrogant toerag and a bully'

Severus froze, his legs going numb as he stood there, suddenly unable to breathe. He physically recoiled, his face draining of all colour.

Lily…

He shivered, painfully glued to the cold stone, his knees buckling as he pressed a hand against the wall, desperate for support, the sound of his heartbeat deafening him. Was he hallucinating? What… what was she doing there? How could she be there?

'Oh, come on Lily, are you blind? He's the most popular boy in school and he fancies you!' the girl continued.

Their footsteps were growing louder. Severus froze, terrified at the prospect she might catch a glimpse of him.

'Does he? Well, he certainly has a funny way of showing it!' Lily argued, her voice heavy with dislike.

Severus' eyes narrowed in pain. He swallowed, unable to understand a word of what she was saying; the physical impossibility of hearing her voice again and after almost two decades too much for him to bear. He let out a strangled sound, feeling slightly nauseous as two girls emerged from the darkness of the corridor, their long shadows shifting lazily on the opposite wall.

Severus could not move, he could only stare, barely breathing and clinging to her figure like a drowning man. He looked at her through a haze of pain as she stopped right in front him, leaning against the opposite wall. Never in all his life had he thought he would see her again. He vaguely noticed the light frown on her face, her beautiful eyes bright and full of life.

Despite all he had done, she was standing there, leaning against the wall right in front of him, breathing and speaking as none of it had ever happened. Before he knew it, tears were streaming down his eyes, washing the blood away from his cheeks. His legs were trembling, his chest heaving, the shock and guilt making it hard to breath. Unable to support his weight anymore, he slid against the wall. He closed his eyes, a choked sob escaping his lips as he lost what little control he had left.

He didn't see Lily turning with her wand at the ready; what he heard was a scream. His eyes snapped open as a deafening clatter filled the air, the dismantled pieces of a suit of armour scattering all over the floor.

The girls started to argue, but Severus was unable to wrench his eyes from her. He stared at her flushed cheeks, taking in every single detail of her beautiful face. It was almost unbearable, to have her here and know he'd been the reason he killed her. For a man that often thought of his crimes as unredeemable, Severus wouldn't have put it past him to beg for forgiveness now that she was here. He'd often wondered whether it would make any difference.

Fuck, he thought, the sudden proximity of the voices pushing him back to reality.

'It came from there, Loretta, you heard it too, you can't possibly think we both imagined it' Lily said, frowning at her friend and looking worried.

'And why's that? No one's there!' the girl snapped, pointing at the shadows and sounding almost hysterical.

'Well, they're probably gone by now. Oh, Loretta, why did you have to be so clumsy…'

The girl pouted, kicking one of the pieces of armour on the floor and managing to hit him. He bit down on his tongue to stop himself from hissing a curse, pain bursting in his knee as he forced himself to take a deep breath. He glowered at the stupid girl, seething, his anger quickly fading into nothingness when Lily's eyes fixed on him.

Severus froze, his mouth suddenly dry. He could barely think straight, grimacing as he pressed himself harder against the cold stone walls, his eyes widening as she stepped closer. He gripped his wand, gritting his teeth, the idea of Obliviating Lily making him physically ill. He found himself praying that the ground would swallow him whole as she drew nearer, her fingers stretching towards him.

Indeed, as much as a part of him craved her touch, Severus did not dare to think what she'd say if she saw him like this. She must've been close enough to smell him because all of a sudden, she drew back ever so slightly, her mouth twisting in a grimace as she covered her nose with the back of her hand, frowning.

Severus' face whitened. Blood. It wasn't as strong as it had been in the Shack, but it was enough for her to notice and recoil.

'Lily, what you doing?! Come back here, don't leave me alone!' shrieked Loretta, her voice trembling with fear.

But Lily was barely listening, her eyes still fixed on him. Severus adjusted his grip on his black wand, feeling his unruly heartbeat in his sweaty cold fingers as with a quick movement of his wrist he caused the blood on his body to disappear into thin air. He felt suddenly lightheaded, his wand arm shaking.

Lily blinked, the worried look in her eyes suddenly becoming one of uncertainty. Her face setting in a light frown.

'Lily, please, can we go now? No one's there and… and I really don't like patrolling the castle at this hour of the night. It's dark and scary and what if…' she stopped, apparently unable to finish.

Severus held his breath, but after a moment or two Lily sighed and her gaze finally shifted back to her friend. She looked both worried and disappointed.

'It's just… I just thought I saw something' she said, her voice heavy with uncertainty.

Loretta shifted uneasily on her feet, her eyes flickering anxiously between her friend and the dark shadows.

'Yeah, well, it must've been a trick of the lights' she said with a nervous nod, giving Lily a reproachful look. Severus did not need Legilimency to know that she was most likely cursing her and all the members of her imprudent House.

Lily's lips stretched in an apologetic smile. She looked one last time in his direction, then forced herself to reach her friend; despite all a dark look still clouding her eyes.

It was only then that Severus let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. He averted his eyes, using the back of his hand to wipe away the tears.


Severus leaned against Slughorn's desk, staring at the deserted room, five empty vials lying scattered at his feet. He wetted his dry lips, the metallic taste of the Blood-Replenishing Potion strangely comforting as he closed down his eyes.

He ran a hand over his face, his encounter with Lily still shaking him to the very core. He waited a minute before downing another potion, torn between gratefulness and scornful disapproval. He had feared he'd be too weak to get past Slughorn's wards, but to his greatest disapproval a simple Alohomora had done the trick. He had never been so careless, never failing to be wary of students. Why, Potter and his friends had relished at the idea of stealing from his personal stores.

Slughorn had always put too much faith in his students, that was until one of his best students had become a murderous dark lord. After the second war he had also been wary of Severus, slowly relaxing in his presence when Dumbledore had silently reassured him. Not that such a thing had worked in his favour when Severus had murdered the old Headmaster. As far as the staff was concerned, Severus had been nothing but a monster.

He grimaced, vanishing the empty vials and making a mental note to brew back what he had taken. Not that he would have any money to pay for the ingredients.

He could think more clearly; now the freezing cold he'd been feeling was starting to leave his tired limbs. He ran a hand through his hair as the Strengthening solution worked through his body. He felt his eyelids growing heavy, but forced himself to stay awake.

He let out a humourless laugh when he realised he'd have to head to the Slytherin dormitory. He got up, swaying slightly and left the office that had been his for fifteen years.

Casting another quick, but this time quite powerful Tergeo on himself, he silently walked towards the dormitory. The blood on his clothes and skin was completely gone, but he was too tired to shower. Alas, he had no desire whatever of breaking his neck in order to look completely clean. Besides, he would also need to guess the bloody password before he would be able to enter the dormitory.

Yes, the shower would have to wait.


Severus woke up with a startle, untangling himself from the bunch of sheets of his four-poster bed, his eyes frantically moving around. He clutched his neck, his fingers feeling sticky with blood. He turned around, only there was no blood, his hands covered in cold sweat.

He sat up, wiping the sweat away from his forehead, his chest heaving as he came to the realisation that he was still alive and no longer on that floor. He shuddered, trying to shake off the sickening memory of having Nagini's fangs still buried in his throat.

Blasted snake, he thought, rubbing his scarred neck, the swollen scars throbbing painfully under his fingers. That was a feeling that would likely haunt him for many nights to come.

He sighed, allowing himself to fall back on the mattress, an annoyed expression plastered on his face as he rolled to the side, meeting the end of the bed. Letting out a frustrated sound, Severus returned to his previous position. He stared at the green curtains of the four posters bed, Mulciber's loud snoring causing him to sneer.

For fuck's sake, he thought. For a moment he had almost forgotten where he was… in a stupid dormitory surrounded by equally stupid and misguided teenagers. He scowled as he caught a glimpse of his body, the visual reminder of being in that body again most unwelcome. His mouth thinned, his hand reaching out for the wand he had placed under his pillow.

He pointed it at the drawn curtains and started to murmur under his breath, undoing the complicated wards he had, perhaps unnecessarily, placed around his bed. He had known with certainty that not one of his roommates would be able to get past those spells, but the mere knowledge that he would have to sleep in a dormitory full of other people had disturbed his sleep.

He shut his eyes; he felt… ill. His neck hurt, the lack of sleep and empty stomach making him nauseous. Severus rubbed his eyes with a heavy sigh. That was not good. Lately he had rarely slept more than five hours a night and he had been just fine. Why couldn't this stupid body cope? Either way, at least he would no longer have to patrol the corridors at night for fear that one of his Deputies would accidentally kill a student.

Regardless, the nightmares were going to become a serious problem. This body was not addicted to Dreamless Sleep, but his mind…

He grimaced. He was very much aware that, over the past year, he had only been functioning thanks to his extensive knowledge in potions. He had been aware of the side effects. He had barely eaten, the increasing paranoia during his waking hours causing his health to quickly deteriorate. Severus had looked and felt old. Merlin knew even now, an Invigoration Draught would not have gone amiss, he thought.

He sighed, thinking of his private stores, all his precious ingredients and formulas stuck in a faraway future. He had never been a materialistic man, but he had valued his books. It suddenly struck him that he had nothing. Indeed, he remembered quite clearly that the ragged school robes he had been wearing had been his best piece of clothing.

No house, no clothes, no books. Everything he had ever owned was now gone forever. Had it all been destroyed during the Battle of Hogwarts? Minerva had hated him to such an extent that Severus had no doubt she would have taken upon herself to banish every reminder of his presence from the castle. As for his private lab and stores, he could imagine all too well in whose hands his possessions might now be.

Slughorn had never been shy when it came to taking advantage of unpleasant situations. Indeed, while he was sure no one else would've looked twice at his personal stores, he had no doubt that for the Old Potions Master his death would be an occasion too good to be wasted.

He still remembered how Hagrid had informed Dumbledore of Slughorn's decision to pay his respects to his abhorrent pet.

"Touching… such a lovely funeral, he would've loved it", he had said, his dark eyes welling up with huge tears, his large face turning into a mawkish mess. Severus had just stared at him, torn between utter disbelief and an increasing urge to sneer. The half-giant had had no concept of pride or dignity, that much had been clear from the very beginning, but it was his ingenuity that Severus could neither stand nor understand.

A lovely funeral indeed.

It certainly had been lovely for Slughorn, for Severus could imagine all too well how Slughorn's must've paid his respect to Hagrid's first friend; his eyes gleaming greedily as he loomed over the Acromantula's body, a multitude of vials of the spider's venom tinkling cheerfully under his large cloak as he scuttled back to his quarters, a smug expression plastered on his round face as he ran away with a fortune.

Severus sneered, yes, what a touching scene, indeed.

Not a single vial had been shared with him, with Slughorn letting out an awkward cough when Hagrid had mentioned the whole ordeal during dinner. Needless to say, Severus had not been pleased; whereas Dumbledore had conveniently turned a deaf ear.

He scowled, shuddering as his bare feet touched the floor, his body feeling all wrong and unbalanced as he stood. He steadied himself, his brain slowly registering that he must've lost at least four inches in height. He grimaced.

After checking than no one was awake, he headed out of the dormitory.

He stopped for a moment, looking at the Slytherin Common room, his eyes moving to the corridor leading to the bathrooms. The thought of sharing a bathroom with teenage boys made him feel mildly ill. He had done his utmost to avoid other students when he had been one of them; the last thing he had needed was a Pureblood noticing the scars on his back.

Severus would have been reduced to a laughing stock; for what sort of wizard would have allowed a Muggle to reduce his body in such a state? They would have laughed, as they had all laughed when they had caught a glimpse of his underwear and of how ugly and pathetic Severus Snape was.

Severus sneered. The last thing he needed was to have them ogling at him. Merlin help him, he had no intension of sharing a bathroom with a bunch of teenage boys again.


Turning the shower handle unceremoniously, Severus placed his head under the gelid stream of water. He gritted his teeth, closing his eyes, both hands placed on the wall as the water warmed up. A simple time keeping spell had told him everything he had needed to know. Day and month had not changed, but he had been right in assuming he could not have been older than sixteen.

1976…

As the tepid water streamed over his body, washing away the disturbing memory of his horrible death, the events of the previous night started to sink in.

Lily…

He squeezed his eyes shut as the water became warm. His chest tightened, his eyes prickling with shameful tears at the memory of her. He took a deep breath, clinging desperately to the blurry images of the previous night, fearing they might soon fade like a long-forgotten dream. Good Merlin, he was pathetic.

It stood to reason that he would see her again, probably that very day. After all, it wasn't as though she would suddenly drop dead, his mind supplied scathingly. The thought inevitably caused him to wince, guilt rearing its head like an ugly beast. He really should not be allowed in the same room as her, not after what he'd done.

Severus grabbed the soap with trembling hands, burying his fingers in his greasy hair and scraping his scalp quite vehemently, the memory of the blood that had been dripping from it a few hours before causing him to grimace.

He stiffened when his hand met the bony jags of his spine, his hands lingering on his protruding ribs; the scars on his back, courtesy of his father, more sensitive than he remembered. Merlin, this body was even thinner than the one he'd been in. He hissed as trail of soap slid down, pain radiating through his body until he was left gasping for breath. His eyes watered.

Fuck…

He shouldn't have been alive.

Severus closed his eyes, gritting his teeth as he scrubbed the rest of his body, his protruding hipbones and lankiness of his limbs causing a new rush of self-loathing. He was left with the uncomfortably feeling of washing someone else's body. Merlin helps him, with the pathetic state of this body and recent injury perhaps he should be worrying about dropping dead, he thought, scathingly.

Turning the slippery handles harshly, Severus's hand reached out instinctively to his right. He scowled when he found no towel, striding towards a nearby cupboard and dripping all over the floor. His eyes fluttered to the cupboards doors, silently pleased when he found what he was looking for.

He sat on a stone bench, crossing his legs at his ankles. He ran a hand on his face, feeling physically exhausted. He took in the deserted bathroom, his body slowly abandoning all the tension he had previously experienced in sleeping in a crowded dormitory, his discomfort partially Occluded.

Letting out a deep breath, he rested his back against the stone wall. He could consider himself lucky that no one had thought of changing the password for that particular bathroom in the last twenty years; he thought, the faint glimmer of the lake shimmering through the windows.

With a flick of his wrist, Severus performed the time keeping spell again.

Half past six.

He frowned, getting up and glowering at the tattered school robes neatly folded on the stone bench. His lips curled in displeasure as he lifted them in the air, holding them with the tip of his fingers as though he was dealing with a particularly nasty potion ingredient.

The thought of having to wear them after they had been covered in soil and blood only a few hours prior caused his skin to prickle. No matter how irrational it might have been, he would have gladly set them on fire. And Severus would have likely burnt them had he had anything more than two pairs of old trousers and Tobias' old t-shirts in his trunk.

Severus felt his face flush, his fingers twitching as he touched the offending rags with the tip of his wand, washing them to the best of his abilities and at the same time repairing a few holes. He stared at them with narrowed eyes. It wasn't much, but pitiful as it was, he supposed that the tattered robes did not look that different from your average hand-me-downs now.

He pulled the robes over his head, the fabric worn down and itchy against his bare skin. A muscle in his jaw twitched. And to think that that pitiful excuse for a uniform was his best piece of clothing. Not that, at the present moment, Severus could not have worn his teacher robes without looking utterly ridiculous. Without some tailoring spells he would have looked more or less like a child in adult clothing.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

Not bothering to dry his hair, Severus headed towards the door, stopping dead in his track when he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. His heart skipped a beat, his reaction similar to that of people startled by the glimpse of a reflection they initially thought belonged to a stranger. He gulped, unnerved, the morning light making that face all the more disturbing.

He could hear the small drop of water sliding down his drenched strands, dripping on his collar, soaking it. He did not know why, but he slowly walked towards the mirror.

Removing a wet strand from his eyes, he stared at that unlined face; not even the dark shadows under his eyes managed to make him look much older than he was. His eyes were as dark as they'd been, but apart from that it was almost like staring at someone else's reflection.

His face was thinner and less defined than it had been as an adult. He could no longer spot the beginning of wrinkles starting from the corner of his eyes. Gone were the deep lines around his mouth and between his eyebrows and without them, Severus could barely recognise himself.

He stared at the emancipated boy in front of him, his face sallow. It was a pitiful sight, really, he considered, staring at his gaunt cheeks, his cheekbones doing nothing to improve the sight of a nose that was clearly too big for that thin face. Severus sneered. While none of his features had definitely improved with age, he had long forgotten how comically ill-fitting that nose used to look on the face of a gangly teenager.

Still sneering, he looked at his mouth. His thin lips were curled, revealing a set of uneven white teeth, yet to become yellow and stained. He knew it would not last long if he started again to abuse at least five different kinds of Potions per day, which, added with the occasional neglect, had done little to improve his appearance.

He stared at his reflection, growing more uncomfortable by the minute. A small strand of hair escaped from behind his ear, his face paling as he slowly brushed it away from the left side of his neck. His stomach churned. It wasn't a pretty sight, the collar of his black robes unable to hide the blatant fact that he should not be standing there alive.

His insides squirmed, his face whitening as he pulled down the collar, the sight causing him to feel mildly sick. Had it not been for the slight rising and falling of his chest, the boy reflected in the mirror could have been easily mistaken for a corpse. And indeed, Severus certainly felt like one; the ghastly marks of Nagini's fangs were running from just below his ear to his collarbone, looking angry and swollen.

He grimaced, hissing in pain as his fingers brushed against the swollen tissue, the phantom feeling of the Dark Lord's magic and the snake venom under his fingers causing a sudden surge to throw up. He closed his eyes for a second, his fingers trembling.

It looked and felt as though something had taken a bite off him, but as sickening as it was, he supposed it could have still been worse, he thought as he was suddenly reminded of Mad-eye Moody.

And yet, he had a problem, for he did not dare consider what kind of questions the sight of those scars would evoke, he thought with a grimace. The Dark Magic still lingering under the skin even the dumbest of healers would've been unable to explain why such life-threatening wound already displayed such advanced level of scarring or why, for that matter, Severus was still breathing.

Severus averted his eyes; a powerful charm should be able to hide it. Not that his parents would have cared to see their son disfigured. From a young age his father had taken upon himself to remind him he was an ugly and twisted thing. As for his mother, she had always cared very little of what happened to him, his father's beatings making her numb to most things.

Severus sighed, feeling strangely vain as he twisted the black wand between his fingers. It looked as though there would be no escaping his past, he thought sneering, the Dark Lord's parting gift serving as a reminder of the man he had been. Of the fact that his body hadn't been truly his since the day he'd taken that mark.

He scowled: what a bothersome nuisance… As though being hideous wasn't enough, he considered, rubbing his mangled throat, an ugly snarl plastered on his face. It did not help that, the sight of it, his thoughts had been immediately drawn to another boy who had survived the Dark Lord's fury with a cursed scar. And at what cost? Lily's life had been a high price to pay.

The Boy Who Lived, he mused, the bile quicky rising to his throat as it often did at the mere thought of him. He supposed that after everything he had done, he too might deserve some form of recognition. And what would they call him? The Spy Who Lived? Severus sneered, the appellative just as ridiculous, for he was sure they would have locked him in Azkaban without a second thought had he survived.

Be that as it may, it was beyond him how anyone could find any fascination with such disfigurements. Famous Harry Potter certainly never lost a chance to make a show out of it, showing it to the whole school whenever someone asked him to. Strutting around the castle like his father before him...

The boy had relished in the attention. Severus could not honestly bring himself to understand how Lily could have given birth to such cretin. Or maybe he could. He supposed Potter's genes had just been too obnoxiously disruptive to justify any hope for a different outcome.

He shuddered, thinking of how such boy had come to be. He did not want to linger on the fact that he only had a few years before Harry Potter would once again come into existence, making his life miserable.

He exhaled deeply, his drenched hair plastered to his skull and giving him impression to be staring at some sort of revolting marine creature.

Merlin, he was ugly. There was no denying it; and he had the misfortune of knowing that age would only worsen that disgraceful picture.

He stared mockingly at his reflection. A second chance at life. A second chance given to him for his unique capacity to love. Albus must've been insane to believe that Lily would see him as anything but her ugly friend, that this time she would choose him…

He stared at the scrawny boy in front of him, his young face and gangly body making him look downright pathetic. What could he even offer to her?

He had thought that once he'd have power no one would care for his appearance, but he was no longer as oblivious as to think looks didn't matter. And he was no longer just an ugly boy now. He was an ex-Death Eater and a murderer, a broken shell of a man who had done unforgivable things; not to mention how much older than her he was.

A cold shiver ran down the length of his spine. Yes, what would she think of that? And what would she think of who he was? He let out a choked laugh, his throat hurting. Yes, Lily would be thrilled to know what sort of man he had become, he thought, half sneering, his crimes likely to make her sick to her stomach.

He rolled up his left sleeve, staring at his forearm, its skin ghastly white, but yet to be tarnished by the wretched mark. He sighed, the ghostly feeling of it seemingly prickling under his skin. He covered his arm in shame.

And to think that Lily had had such good hopes for him. She had told him how brilliant he was. He could remember sitting with her next to that dirty river, a red headed girl telling him that it did not matter what Petunia and the rest of the world thought, he would make something out of himself. She had kept telling him that until Lupin had almost killed him and Severus' hateful resentment had turned him into everything she despised. And after that, it had become all too clear what he really wanted to do with his life.

How could he have ever believed that being a Death Eater would impress her? He closed his eyes shut. What a worthless idiot, he thought, flinching when his eyes met his reflection once again.

He hadn't noticed before, but it was strangely disturbing to see his eyes on the face of a teenager. Those dark, haunted eyes didn't belong to a sixteen-year-old boy. They were the eyes of a man who had lived through hell, a man followed by the stench of death. And as to Lily, what was he to do?

Would she notice? He could not tell her the truth. Certainly, he could not throw himself at her feet and beg for her forgiveness. And even if he did, what would she think of him? The mere knowledge of who he truly was would put a target on her back. A murderer and a Death Eater. She certainly would not want Severus to protect her, that much was certain.

Was he to play the teenager? He grimaced. He did not want to lie to Lily, but it was undeniable that the truth would place her into mortal danger. Similarly to her blasted son, Severus knew she had no talent for Occlumency. He had spent more than half his life lying, why should this be any different? Severus took a deep breath. He'd do anything in his power to make sure she lived a long and happy life.

And then… if he survived the task, he would… tell her who he truly was. She would not want him in her life after that, to be sure, but Severus had long since come to terms with that; he could only hope she would, if not forgive him, at least understand…

With his hands trembling slightly, Severus glared one last time at the mirror and headed towards the Great Hall, his heart beating loudly in anticipation.