1998, September 1st & 2nd
The Gryffindor dormitory was scarcely decorated and vastly different from Slytherins. Where Slytherin was dark, Gryffindor was bright, where Slytherin was cool, Gryffindor was warm. The Slytherin common room had large windows from ceiling to floor with the view of the underside of the lake. He remembered the ambience being quiet yet somehow hostile. Elegant, yet damp. The walls in the dungeons have always had that moisture, they seemed to sweat. Gryffindors was almost cozy with a large hearth with a blazing fire and windows that overlooked the grounds.
The shape of each dormitory as well, differed from Slytherin, a hexagon, with the head of a twin sized bed at each wall. Five beds in total. What a nightmare, he thought. Three of the five had already been claimed, as he could see personal items scattered about each living space haphazardly. One of the three spaces that had been claimed, was surprisingly neat for a 17 year old boy.
"Trevor!" A boy said, then his head popped up at the side of the bed. He spotted him at the door instantly, and his eyes bulged from his head in a similar fashion that Grangers did when she saw him this evening. "Professor?"
"Not anymore, Longbottom," Severus sneered, gesturing to his person, "As you can clearly see."
"Oh, um, yea." Longbottom said, pushing himself up with the help of his bed, "I guess that's your stuff then."
Severus' eyes followed his finger, noticing his things had indeed arrived ahead of him, at the back of the dormitory, sitting neatly beside one of the unclaimed beds.
"Yes." He said, then he strode past Longbottom and began unpacking. The heat still rising on the back of his neck. He chose this. He keeps having to remind himself that. A part of him had wanted this on some level if the hat sorted him here. It didn't change the fact that he most definitely did not feel as if he belonged, but it helped. It helped knowing that it wasn't completely against his will. Deep inside he tried to pull his childhood positivity up, but it was buried so deeply under the mountain of uncertainty and disappointment he couldn't get it up far enough to actually feel it. He remembered vividly how positive he had been as a child, before his father became an alcoholic and his mother stopped defending him. Though even after, he felt it. Through the mental and emotional abuse, through the harsh realities of what his life was becoming. He felt it.
Green eyes flashed in his mind, smiling. Lily.
With her it was easy, it was easy to forget, it was easy to pretend, if only for a second. Perhaps if this was what she wanted, he could endure it. It was only one school year afterall.
After several minutes of quiet, Longbottom inevitably broke it, "You know you were my boggart in third year."
"I- what?" Severus said, turning his head to look at the boy who was sitting cross legged on top of his bedsheets with a large toad in his hands, petting its beatie little head with a finger.
"Yea, I imagine you were for a while after that year as well but it went away with time." Longbottom said, without looking at him.
"Your boggart?" Severus pondered, and turned more towards the boy, "Was I truly that horrible?"
Longbottom smiled up at him nervously, "Yea."
"Right." Snape felt uncomfortable for a moment, and quickly turned away. The thought of him as someone's boggart brought a strange feeling over him, even though he'd always been quite proud of being able to bring fear to the hearts of all his students. But to know that he haunted the boy's nightmares. Made him think that perhaps he had been a bit too harsh to some students.
"For what it's worth, my boggart in third year was my own father." Severus said over his shoulder, twisting his hands in front of him.
Longbottom looked up at Severus, surprised by the sudden confession. The boy seemed to think for a moment before speaking.
"I suppose everyone has their own battles to face," Longbottom said softly.
Severus nodded silently in agreement. There was a moment of unspoken understanding between them. Perhaps they had more in common than just a tumultuous past.
The moment of silence that followed was tense. Even the room felt awkward, and Longbottom fidgeted on his bed, clearly uncomfortable. Severus, on the other hand, finished unpacking his belongings and sat on the edge of the bed, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of the year ahead. He couldn't help but wonder if he had made the right decision in returning.
Severus' thoughts were abruptly interrupted as the door to the dormitory swung open, and Harry Potter and Ron Weasley entered, their voices carrying through the room.
"Ron, I'm telling you, the Holyhead Harpies have a chance this year!" Potter said enthusiastically, a grin on his face.
"You're barmy." Weasley replied, grabbing the back of his sweater collar and pulling it over his head to remove it. "Don't allow my sister to fill your head with nonsense."
"Ginny liking them has nothing to do with it, their chasers are insane, have you not seen their ratings in the Daily Prophet?" Potter said with a laugh, rubbing the scratched lenses of his glasses with his t-shirt.
But their joyful conversation came to an abrupt halt when they noticed Severus sitting on the edge of his bed, surrounded by his belongings.
Severus stiffened as Potter and Weasley entered the room, his eyes narrowing as he quickly returned his attention to his bath bag. He could feel their gazes on him, their shock palpable.
Magnificent, he thought. Merlin, help me.
With the weight of Potter and Weasley's gazes heavy upon him, Severus took a deep breath and stood up, slowly turning to face them. He noticed Longbottom watching him, a look of apprehension on his face.
Severus straightened his back, drawing himself to his full height and locked eyes with them. He took pride in knowing he still stood several inches taller than them both. He had always been tall, lean, or rather skinny. He thought maybe with the extra time he had this year since he was only taking the core classes, he could focus on his physical health, perhaps even his appearance. It would more than likely aid him in the inevitability of finding that soul tie Lily spoke of. The room held a tense silence for several moments. Finally, Severus broke the silence with a stiff and formal greeting.
"Potter. Weasley." He said, his voice devoid of any warmth.
"Snape." Potter nodded and moved to his bed across from Longbottoms, he plopped down and opened a Quidditch Weekly magazine without so much as another glance in his direction.
Weasley stood there gaping for a few more moments before he followed Potter's lead and tentatively moved to his bed in between Potters and Severus', tossing his sweater towards the chest at the end of his bed, which instead slid to the floor.
Stiffly, Severus threw his bath bag over his shoulder, which was only a small leather double zip, with a long leather strap. He was not leaving his belongings in the common showers, Merlin only knew what they would do to it if he did.
"Oh, Snape, here." Longbottom said, placing his toad in a small carrier at the foot of his bed before rummaging through the drawer of his bedside table. Severus stopped, making sure to keep his eyes on Longbottoms movements so as to not accidentally meet either of the two others' eyes.
Pulling out a small parchment from his drawer, Longbottom whirled around his bed post and held it out to him, with an awkward tighten of his lips. "It's the showering schedule."
Weasley groaned, "Not this again"
"Neville again with the schedule. It never worked in the past, it won't work now." Potter said, flipping lazily through the magazine in front of him.
Severus curled a brow at Longbottom, "A showering schedule."
Longbottom blushed under his scrutiny, "Hermione insisted on it back in fourth year, though no one ever listens."
"Shocking." Severus said, taking the small parchment from Longbottoms grasp before peering down at it. It was a small schedule, Potter, Weasley, Longbottom, Finnigan, and Thomas' names all next to a certain time with an empty space next to the slot of first shower each night. Typical. "And does Granger usually command things of you?"
"Yes." Weasley said at the same time both Potter and Longbottom mutually agreed, "No."
"Usually no, but when she found out Ron only showered once a week she insisted." Longbottom said, glaring at the other boy.
Potter snickered, which granted him a pillow to the head via Weasley.
"I showered more than once a week." Weasley whined.
Somehow, Severus doubted that.
"Very well." Severus said, jotting his name down with the quill that was offered to him. "I'll take the first shower then."
He must commend her for trying, however futile her efforts may be. Though he didn't like that it felt as if he was being ordered about by someone who was now meant to be his equal.
"Rather you than me." Weasley said under his breath, earning a deep scowl in return.
Without another word, Severus exited the dormitory and walked the short distance down the hall past several open doors, which housed other Gryffindor male students, all obnoxiously loud, which he anticipated. They paused as he passed them. He didn't know whether it was because of his predicament, his presence, or his past authority, but he didn't want to speculate too deeply. He didn't like to think about it. Didn't like the way it made him feel as if he were constantly under the scrutiny of people he had considered beneath him in his youth.
Mercifully the lavatory was clear of any unwanted company. The Gryffindor boys' lavatories were very similar to Slytherins, except with pearl colored tiles, where Slytherins were obsidian. Much like the Prefects bathroom, which he intended to use given he was well within his rights to with his newfound title as Gryffindor Prefect, the boys lavatory was large, with several showers separated by thin stone walls and hidden behind wooden doors with a large gap beneath them. Though unlike the Prefect's lavatory, this room had a long stone bench at its center. He took comfort in knowing this would be his first and last time visiting this particular section of the tower. Quidditch season was beginning in only a few weeks and he prayed it would be of more use to his new house mates especially being that he now lived amongst two quidditch players. He understood Granger's insistence on a showering schedule.
Severus sat down on the bench, pulling the small leather bag from his shoulder and gently unzipping it. Inside, he found several vials, each labeled meticulously with his neat handwriting. He withdrew one of them and studied the dark silver liquid contained within.
He had prepared the potion before the start of the school year, using ingredients harvested from his own personal garden hidden in the dungeons. It was a complex brew that had taken him many hours to perfect and yet he couldn't feel more thankful for it at this moment. With a small sigh, he unscrewed the cap.
Severus lifted the vial of the potion to his nose and inhaled deeply. Its scent was a mixture of herbs and something metallic. It was not unpleasant, but not exactly pleasing either. However, he knew that the taste would be far more unpleasant than the smell. Without hesitating, Severus brought the vial to his lips and drank its contents. The potion was thick and bitter, burning his throat as it slid down, and he couldn't help but grimace at the taste. Despite the unpleasantness, the sense of familiarity brought some comfort as the potion worked its magic, slowly his nerves calmed. He felt the weight of the day slide off his shoulders. He closed the vial and stood, shoving both the vial and the bag back. It was a simple remedy, a calming draught meant to allow its user to stay awake after its use. He would need large batches of it if he had any hope of surviving the year. Though he doubted the board of governors would allow him access to his old rooms on the record. He would have to find a way and the time to brew in secrecy.
Severus stood in the shower as the scalding water slid down his spine. He hadn't dared to look at himself naked in years and didn't plan to start here. He didn't want to look at himself. At who he was and what he had become. Not that he used to look like anything amazing. He'd always been thin, too thin. There was a time when he wanted to gain more weight, and wanted more meat on his bones. He'd been called many names when he was a child. Stringy, bony, ugly.
He lathered himself, starting with his arms and moving down to the rest of his body. When he reached his chest, his eyes involuntarily flickered down. Sure enough, he found the skin marred with various small circular scars, still slightly pink and angry, as if no time had passed from when they were inflicted upon him. He had always been self-conscious of them and tried his best to hide them for years. Even now they still manage to be repulsive to look at. Given to him one dark night after his father had caught him smoking. It did little to sway him from the habit, indeed it made his nicotine and tobacco addiction that much stronger. He could still remember the sound of his skin sizzling beneath the lit cigarette as his father pressed it into his flesh.
By the time he made it back to the dormitory, Longbottom, Weasley, Thomas, and Finnigan were fast asleep. Only Potter remained awake, his wand lit to offer some light as he read through what looked to be a seventh year spell book. The room was dark, so taking advantage of the light Potter's wand produced, Severus walked quietly to his bed, giving his wand a light wave to draw the curtains closed around it while he situated himself for the night. He could feel Potter's eyes on him for several minutes, though he didn't comment. The last thing he needed was attention for mouthing off to the precious chosen one, savior of the wizarding world.
Once he had finally arranged himself beneath the covers, his curtain drawn tightly shut and warded against unwanted intrusion, he closed his eyes and let out a breath of relief. That's when the snoring started.
"Bloody hell." Potter whispered harshly, followed by a thump and a groan, "Use a silencing charm, Ron."
"Okay." Weasley grumbled before whispering the proper spell. That was the last sound he heard, thankfully.
It was the early hours of the morning that found Severus Snape stirring from his sleep. His eyes flickered open, staring blankly up at the ceiling above as he tried to make sense of his surroundings, his mind slowly coming into focus.
Pulling his wand from beneath his pillow, he gave it a gentle flick and his curtains opened softly, the morning light cascading around him in a warm embrace.
His gaze shifted across the room, taking in the scattered beds of the other boys. The majority of them were still fast asleep, their snores and soft breaths filling the air. Some of them lay sprawled out on their backs with their mouths agape while others slept on their sides, curled up like pups. Only Potter's bed was empty, the sheets tangled up in a makeshift messy pile that indicated he had hastily dressed and slipped away without any care.
Severus pushed himself up into a sitting position, a frown settling on his face as he observed the disheveled sheets and pillow on Potter's bed. What could possibly have the boy up so early? He doesn't remember one time he had ever seen Potter at the breakfast table before 7:45 a.m.
As Severus contemplated this thought, a nagging feeling crept up to him. The boy was infamous for stirring up trouble, and he wouldn't put it past him to wander about before curfew ended in an attempt to find something to get into. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he pushed himself to his feet, his toes sinking into the plush rug. The first day will always be the worst. Somehow it felt like a Monday rather than a Tuesday. He never understood the need to have the Welcoming Feast on the first every year, it almost always fell on a weekday, which completely threw the first few days of the school year off balance. Monday was the only appropriate day to start anything.
He descended the stairs leading to the common room, not five minutes later, taking in its blissfully empty state. The fire that had once blazed in its hearth the previous night had long since died, leaving barely a single lit ember in its wake. With a quick swish of his wand, it heated once more, filling the room with flickering light.
"Don't you think it's too early for a fire?"
A strike of lightning struck his nerves, sending a shock wave over his skin. He jumped, his wand drawn directly in the face of the voice who descended the stairs behind him. Granger froze, holding her hands up, her wand placed behind her thumb in her right hand.
"It's only me."
He sighed, his shoulders dropping along with his wand.
"It's never too early to be warm, Miss Granger, and never sneak up on me like that again." He hissed, making his way towards the tea caddy in the corner of the common room.
"Granger." She said with a sigh, "Have you seen Harry, he was down here an hour ago."
"If you'll remember, Granger," He said with emphasis, "I'm no longer responsible for that boy's coming and going."
Thankfully the tea was still warm, though a little old. Whoever cast the stasis charm did well. He poured himself a healthful portion, added two sugars and a large pour of cream.
Granger eyed his movements, a journal tucked beneath her arm, a quill sticking from the tightly placed bun on the top of her head.
"If you'll remember, Snape, you are a Prefect, so him being out of the Tower before curfew ends is indeed your responsibility." She took a deep breath.
"You have no way of knowing that he didn't return to his dormitory." He sipped his tea, moving to sit at the table next to the caddy. Not having access to a house elf was incredibly annoying. He craved crepes.
"Yes but you do, you share a dorm with him, was he up there when you got up this morning?" Granger asked, forgoing any cream or sugar from her tea, before moving to sit in a chair next to the fire.
"Why is it any of your concern, leave the boy alone, do you always have to be so controlling." He paused, "A showering schedule, really?"
"You wouldn't be so ungrateful if you had shared a tent with two of them for over a year." She said simply, then pulled the journal out and opened it to an empty page.
He didn't comment further, instead he watched as her quill began its dance as she wrote, nibbling the feather every so often when she stopped to think.
"Is it always this quiet in the morning, or do I have more to look forward to?" He asked, blowing lightly on his tea.
She turned her head, considering him for a moment. "No one usually gets up until an hour before breakfast. It's usually only me and Harry in the morning."
"Potter is an early riser?" His brows raised, disappearing into the hair that fell over his forehead.
"You sound shocked."
"I admit to not having expected it," He replied truthfully.
He wasn't one for small talk, but Granger's silent and studious company was more palatable than most he'd found at Hogwarts. He would much rather speak to her than endure the raucous chatter of the other students.
Severus took a sip of his tea, letting its warmth fill him from the inside. He watched as Granger's quill continued to fly across the page, creating words and notes he couldn't decipher. He wondered what she was writing, what thoughts she had in her mind that required such focus.
"What are you working on?" He asked quietly, not wanting to disturb her concentration too greatly.
Granger looked up from her scribbling, a polite strained smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Oh, nothing." Her words were spoken softly, her voice tinged with a thoughtful quality. She paused for a moment, staring dreamily into the fire before shaking her head.
"I see." Severus took another sip, staring down into swirling brown liquid. He could tell from her expression that she was lying, but he wasn't going to press her. Instead he allowed them to fall into a comfortable silence. He glanced back down at his tea, watching as the steam curled and wound its way upwards, rising towards the ceiling. The heat from the fire warmed his feet and he relished the feeling, enjoying the peaceful solitude.
As they sat in silence, the crackling of the fire filled the air as the flames danced and leapt in the grate. Severus' gaze drifted to Granger, taking in her appearance. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, her tongue peeking out of the corner of her mouth as she wrote. Her hair was pulled back into a neat bun, though there were strands framing her face that escaped, brushing against her flushed cheeks.
Severus' expression softened as he observed her.
Severus shook himself from his thoughts, his face reddening slightly. "Bloody hell," he muttered under his breath. He couldn't believe he had just been thinking such things. Quickly he rose to his feet, ignoring Granger's quizzical look. He muttered something incoherent as he quickly walked towards the stairs leading to the boy's dormitories.
As he climbed the spiral stairs back towards his dormitory, Severus cursed himself for his momentary lapse in judgment. He had just been sitting there, admiring Granger like a simpleton. What was wrong with him? He had watched her grow up. Merlin, help him. As if that wasn't enough, her sheer lack of self control and incessant need for attention and approval as a student should be enough to deter him.
Severus' face heated even more, his cheeks turning a deep shade of crimson. He blamed his momentary lapse in judgment on his newly renewed teenage hormones. It was a natural response to all the changing emotions and new sensations that came with being a teen. He shook his head, annoyed at himself for letting his hormones get the best of him. How silly he had been, letting himself be swayed by a pretty face and a clever mind. He vowed he would never let himself fall prey to such whims again.