Chapter 1
Sixth year was going great for James Potter. And why wouldn't it be absolute perfection?
He was finally appointed Gryffindor’s Quidditch Captain -a title he had long deserved, might he add. The Marauders were happy and well, even Padfoot, who had fully embraced his disownment and spent the whole summer at James’s house, raiding the pantry like some well-groomed stray. And, most importantly, Lily Evans - the Lily Evans- had finally seen the light and ditched Snivellus for good. No more looking back. No more nasty Slytherin shadows darkening her every step.
Life was perfect.
Well… it was perfect.
Until a minor problem arose.
A problem in the shape of Vivian Selpie.
At first, she seemed fine. A new sixth-year transfer from Beauxbatons, Sorted into Gryffindor, which should have made her automatically cool in his book. But no. Because Selpie, for reasons completely beyond James’s understanding, was obsessed with Snivellus.
Not in a normal way, either.
The Marauders couldn’t even sneeze in Snivellus’s direction without her deflecting their hexes like some kind of overly dramatic hero in a bad wizarding soap opera. She had a glare too -one that felt oddly familiar but James couldn’t quite place. And worst of all? Snivellus didn’t even seem to notice!
How was James supposed to properly kick off the school year if he couldn’t put that greasy git in his place? Every time he so much as looked in Snivellus’s direction, Selpie was right there. Lurking. Hovering. Stalking.
So yes, she was clearly obsessed with the Slytherin. Obviously.
Now, James could still try to sneak in a hex while she was watching -he wasn’t scared of her or anything. He was no coward. But there was one tiny issue.
What if she told Lily?
James knew Lily wasn’t daft enough to still defend that wannabe Death Eater, but what if Selpie exposed the maturity he was still very much in the process of acquiring? What if she made it look like he was still the same old James, hexing Snivellus just for the fun of it? That would completely ruin his plan to show Lily how much he had matured.
He couldn’t risk that.
Of course, for Selpie to actually rat him out , she’d first have to get over whatever bizarre problem she had with nervously ignoring Lily every time they were in the same room. Which was weird. Suspicious, even. But James wasn’t about to push his luck.
So, for now, he’d just… lay low. Yes. That was the plan. Lay low.
He was perfectly capable of that.
Right?
“Brilliant idea, Prongs! Absolutely brilliant!” Padfoot whispered under the Invisibility Cloak, which he, James, and Remus were currently crammed under.
Peter would have joined too if he weren’t already drowning in an endless stream of detentions -impressive, really, considering the school year had just started. The Marauders never wasted time when it came to mischief.
“Are we sure this is a great idea?” Remus muttered, sighing. “Selpie hasn’t done anything wrong.”
“She’s hiding something, Moony, I know it,” James insisted, eyes locked on the new girl as they trailed behind her. “And can you imagine how great it’d be if you, Gryffindor’s prefect , caught her up to no good before she cost us any house points?”
Remus gave him a flat look. “You mean the points you two already lost?”
Padfoot elbowed him and shushed them both as Selpie suddenly stopped in the middle of a deserted corridor.
Then, she turned directly toward them.
“You do realize that cloak doesn’t have a silencing spell, right?” she said in a bored tone, arms crossed. “You actually have to be quiet when stalking someone if you don’t want them to notice.”
Well.
Shite.
They got caught a lot faster than expected.
James, never one to admit defeat gracefully, straightened up and dramatically threw off the cloak, exposing the trio like some sort of theatrical reveal.
“How did you know about the cloak?” he demanded, pointing an accusatory finger at her.
Selpie just stared at him like he was the suspicious one here. Which was ridiculous. He wasn’t the one lurking around in empty hallways like a cryptid.
“Would you believe me if I said I was psychic?” she deadpanned.
“No.”
“Good. Because I’m not.”
Padfoot, never one to let a situation go without adding his own dramatic flair, narrowed his eyes. “Then how did you know?”
Selpie sighed, looking thoroughly unimpressed, as if she had already exceeded her daily limit for dealing with nonsense. “I’ve seen my fair share of immature kids. I can smell trouble from a mile away. And your lot positively reeks of it.”
Padfoot grinned, clearly taking that as a compliment. “Flattered, really.”
James, however, wasn’t convinced. “You’re still hiding something.”
“Oh, absolutely,” she said, without hesitation. “Loads of things. Maybe I secretly hate croissants. Maybe I don’t actually know French. Maybe I killed a man in my past life.”
“Did you?” Remus asked, half amused, half wary.
Selpie just smiled.
James narrowed his eyes. “You’re deflecting.”
“I am,” she agreed, tilting her head slightly before leveling him with a sharp look that sent an odd chill down his spine. “Why are you following me, Potter?”
James barely opened his mouth before Padfoot, who had a talent for both timing and provocation, jumped in. “Why are you following and defending that greasy bat Snivellus?”
Selpie’s entire demeanor changed. Her glare snapped to Sirius with the force of a well-aimed Bludger. “ Don’t call him that, Black.”
Sirius blinked, clearly surprised at her venomous tone.
Selpie wasn’t done. “I thought Gryffindor was supposed to be the house of justice and chivalry, yet the prefect himself doesn’t seem to care about bullying happening right in front of him.” She turned to Remus now, her glare just as sharp. “You were obviously an excellent choice for the job, Lupin.”
Remus stiffened, looking both taken aback and guilty.
James, however, bristled. “Don’t talk to him that way!” he shot back, stepping between them. “We just want to know why you’re lurking around Snivellus like a lost puppy -because right now, you’re the one acting suspicious to everyone around you.” He narrowed his eyes. “Are you conspiring with the Death Eaters?”
The moment the words left his mouth, he realized he had massively miscalculated.
Selpie’s entire expression darkened, her body going rigid. Then, very slowly, she took a step forward. Her voice dropped to a dangerously quiet level.
“What,” she said, each word dripping with venom, “did you just say to me, you fucking prat?”
James suddenly had the distinct feeling that he had just unlocked something -something deeply unhinged and very willing to hex him into next week.
Sirius, to his credit, immediately recognized that this was no longer fun and took a wise step back. Remus looked like he was calculating the exact odds of this ending with James in the Hospital Wing.
James, meanwhile, had two options; Apologize and attempt diplomacy or stick to his Gryffindor instincts and double down like an idiot.
Naturally, he chose the latter.
James, in all his infinite wisdom , squared his shoulders and refused to back down. “You heard me,” he said, folding his arms. “Unless you’ve suddenly gone deaf along with being mysteriously obsessed with Sniv-”
“I said do not call him that!” Selpie bellowed, her wand shaking in her grip -not just from fury but as if her magic itself was slipping beyond her control.
Before anyone could react, a burst of white light exploded from her wand, swirling through the now-silent corridor. It twisted and flickered, taking form until-
“Oh, bloody hell,” Selpie muttered. “No, no, stop-”
But it was too late. Her emotions only seemed to fuel the mirage, making it sharper, clearer. The figures solidified -a man with long hair, sitting cross-legged on the floor, brushing the hair of a small girl, no older than seven or eight, who sat in his lap.
“What the…” Sirius trailed off, his usual ability to produce snark utterly failing him.
James stared, his brain short-circuiting. “Shite. ”
Remus, the most articulate of the group, simply blinked.
Selpie desperately flicked her wand, but nothing stopped the scene from unfolding before them. The little girl in the vision looked suspiciously like a younger version of Selpie herself, but it was the man that sent a shiver down their spines.
Because, despite the lack of grease, the absence of his usual scowl, and the alarming presence of a smile -there was no mistaking him.
It was Snape.
An older Snape. A cleaner Snape. And, Merlin help them all, a soft Snape.
Then he spoke, and if there had been any lingering doubts, they evaporated in an instant.
“Darling, please stop moving -I can’t do your hair properly if you keep swaying like that.” His voice was unmistakable, but warmer, tinged with amusement.
“But Papa!” the little girl whined. “If you’d just used magic, you’d be done by now, and we could be at the park already!”
“You can’t always rely on magic, Vivian,” Snape chided, his tone betraying a smile. “What if I used the wrong spell by mistake and made your beautiful hair fall right off your head?” He gasped dramatically, adding flair to his words.
The girl let out an exaggerated gasp of her own. “You wouldn’t do that to me!” she accused, hands on her hips. “You said you liked my hair because it reminds you of Grandmother’s!”
“You’re right,” Snape conceded, chuckling. “I do like your hair. Which is why I want to do it properly -by hand- so I can make sure it’s perfect.” With a final tug, he secured the style, then summoned a mirror. “Which, by the way, I did. Look.”
The little girl squealed in delight. “I love it! Thank you, Papa! I love you!” she declared before throwing herself into his arms.
Snape chuckled, ruffling her hair before standing up. “Alright, alright. We should get going -you’ve got monkey bars to conquer.”
“Exactly!” the little girl cheered before dashing off, leaving Snape to shake his head fondly as he followed.
And then, as suddenly as it had begun, the vision faded, leaving only silence in its wake.
A long, stunned silence.
Selpie stared at the floor, looking anywhere but at them, her face red with mortification.
The Marauders, on the other hand, looked like they had just witnessed a Dementor break into song and dance.
Sirius was the first to break the silence, which was impressive, considering James looked like his entire worldview had just been drop-kicked off the Astronomy Tower.
“What the fuck was that?” Sirius finally said, voice laced with equal parts horror and disbelief. He blinked rapidly, as if hoping the mirage had just been a particularly vivid hallucination. “Did -did we just see Snivellus-”
“Do not -” Selpie started, her wand sparking dangerously.
“- Smiling?” Sirius finished, ignoring her entirely. “And - hold on - was he… brushing hair? Like, willingly? With his hands?” He turned to Remus as if needing an outside source to confirm that reality hadn’t just imploded. “Moony, what are the stages of grief? Because I think I just went through all of them simultaneously.”
Remus, for once, looked just as stunned. He opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. “I… I genuinely have no idea how to process what I just saw.”
James, meanwhile, was stuck on one crucial detail. “Papa?” he echoed blankly, staring at Selpie like she had just sprouted three heads. “Did -did she just call Snape -”
Selpie groaned, dragging a hand down her face like she was being forced to endure an unreasonable amount of stupidity. “Yes, obviously,” she snapped. “Congratulations, Potter, you’ve cracked the mystery. You should be an Auror.”
James still hadn’t recovered. “But - Papa?” he repeated, louder, like saying it again would somehow make it less true.
Sirius choked. “Oh, Merlin’s saggy left-”
“Do not finish that sentence,” Remus warned.
“But, Moony, this is critical information!” Sirius exclaimed, wildly gesturing toward Selpie. “You’re telling me we’ve had a Snape offspring in Gryffindor this whole time and no one thought to mention it?”
“First of all,” Selpie said sharply, “I’m a transfer student , so no, I have not been here the ‘whole time.’ Second” she turned her glare to James, “I specifically came here to stop my father from having the absolute miserable existence you helped make worse.”
James flinched, which was new , because he never flinched when it came to Snape. Usually, it was immediate defensiveness, an automatic he deserved it. But this? This was different.
There was something about hearing father instead of Snivellus that made it feel less like an insult and more like a callout.
Sirius, however, was still too busy short-circuiting to process anything beyond the immediate crisis. “But how-? When-? WHO-? What poor, unfortunate soul actually looked at Snivellus and thought, ‘Yes, let’s reproduce’?”
Selpie’s wand twitched.
James grabbed Sirius by the back of his robes and yanked him back before she could turn him into something unpleasant. “Not the priority, Pads.”
Sirius huffed, muttering something about misplaced priorities, but wisely shut his mouth.
Remus, still recovering, rubbed his temples like this conversation alone had aged him five years. “Look,” he said, sighing, “clearly, there’s a lot to unpack here. But maybe -just maybe - we shouldn’t do it in the middle of a corridor where literally anyone could walk by and hear about our very real Snape-related existential crisis.”
Selpie exhaled sharply, her grip on her wand loosening slightly. “Finally, some common sense.” She straightened up, flicking her wand to dispel the last lingering remnants of the mirage. “We’ll talk. But not here.”
James hesitated, still processing, still not entirely sure whether he was awake or trapped in some deeply unfortunate fever dream. “Fine,” he said reluctantly. “But I swear , if you try to tell me Snape is actually a secretly great guy -”
Selpie rolled her eyes. “Oh, no. He was a horrible professor.”
Sirius brightened instantly. “Well, at least there’s that.”
James still had a bad feeling about this.