Chapter 7
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
They had followed Snivellus to make sure he wasn’t brewing some evil potion to melt their faces off or practicing dark curses in the middle of the Forbidden Forest. Well— Sirius had. Moony and Prongs were only there because they’d mumbled something about not letting him go alone because they don’t trust him and oh no, what if he does something stupid? (Rude.)
So, given the actual plan, why in the name of Merlin’s left ballsack was Padfoot now standing here, reacting like this to Snivellus’s cooing?
Just a second ago, he had been growling at him! Growling! Like a proper, intimidating, scary dog! And now—
Sirius stared up at Snape, who was currently gazing down at him with a look that could only be described as fond.
What the actual fuck?
Sirius let out a low, warning growl, because that’s what a proper Animagus-dog would do to assert dominance. Assert dominance, Sirius! But then Snape tilted his head, softened his expression, and—
Oh, no.
"Aren’t you a cute little thing?" Snape murmured.
Sirius flinched.
He flinched.
Like an actual, real, domesticated dog.
Which he was not.
He was a man. A proud, powerful, and intelligent man.
And yet.
His ears twitched.
His head tilted.
No. No, no, no.
No.
Snape’s smile barely faltered, but Sirius knew —he knew —that Snape had just clocked everything. And because the universe hated him, Snape crouched down to meet Padfoot’s eyes.
Oh, Merlin please no.
"You have to be the most handsome dog I’ve ever had the pleasure of coming across," Snape purred.
Sirius's soul left his body.
He needed to run. He needed to lunge, bite Snape’s awful face, or do literally anything to break whatever unholy spell was happening.
But his traitorous, undignified, absolute bastard of a dog brain had other ideas.
His tail wagged.
Just once. Just barely. But he felt it.
And, judging by the glint of amusement in Snape’s dark eyes—he saw it too.
Sirius was going to throw himself into the Black Lake and drown.
Then came the worst part.
"Would a nice puppy like you enjoy a scratch behind the ears?"
Oh.
Oh, that was evil.
Sirius’s brain screamed run. Leave. Never look back. Fake your own death. Move to Albania.
But his dog brain, which had clearly never loved him, whispered, You know what sounds amazing? A fucking ear scratch.
And then.
To his absolute, unforgivable horror.
He nodded.
A silence stretched between them. A horrible, knowing silence.
Then, Snape smiled.
Actually smiled.
Sirius would have rather been hit by the Killing Curse.
Then, before he could recover, Snape reached out —and scratched behind his ears.
Padfoot melted.
Oh, fuck everything.
It was instant. His brain shut off. His body relaxed. His tail—his absolute traitor of a tail—wagged again. Worse, he let out a noise that was dangerously close to a contented sigh.
This was it. This was his lowest moment.
And then.
Snape stopped.
Sirius blinked. He felt light-headed, almost like he was floating. Like his body hadn't caught up with reality yet.
And before he could stop himself—before he could fight back—
He whined.
Oh, Merlin’s crusty old beard.
"Aww," Snape said, voice practically dripping with mock sympathy. "Does the handsome, good boy want even more pets?"
Padfoot almost—almost—whined again .
No. Get it together, Sirius!
He tried to jump back, shake himself off, remind himself that he was not some needy little house pet.
But then—then—Snape’s fingers returned to scratch behind his ears again.
And—
Yeah.
Sirius was going to have to move to another country.
Somewhere far, far away where no one would ever know about this moment.
Through the haze of his own shame and betrayal, he barely registered Snape saying something insulting about the Marauders—probably comparing them to trolls, or worms, or some other boring Slytherin insult. He tried to growl.
It came out strangled.
Damn his dog instincts.
"Well, take care now," Snape said, standing up and stretching like he hadn’t just destroyed Sirius’s entire existence. "I’ll probably be back tomorrow, if you want to meet again."
Meet.
Meet again?!
Sirius was never showing his face—or fur—again.
Snape turned, vanishing into the trees as if nothing had happened.
Sirius stood there for a long moment.
Then, still reeling, he shifted back into his human form and threw himself onto the forest floor.
Face-first.
He stayed there. Just… laying in the dirt. Contemplating every life choice that had led to this moment.
From behind him—
"Mate."
Oh, no.
He had not come into the forest alone.
Rustling fabric. The sound of a cloak being yanked off.
"Mate."
Sirius did not move.
And then—
Laughter.
Uncontrollable, wheezing, utterly delighted laughter.
James.
Prongs.
His best friend.
Dying of laughter behind him.
Sirius squeezed his eyes shut. Maybe if he ignored him, James would just disappear.
"Did you just let Snape—" James had to stop to wheeze. "—Snivellus—pet you?"
Sirius, still facedown in the dirt, mumbled, "Please. Just please. Don’t."
"Oh, no, no, no," James gasped between laughs. "Because I could be wrong, but I’m pretty bloody sure you liked it."
Then—Moony.
Moony.
The one who was supposed to be the reasonable one. The merciful one.
"Why," Remus said, voice slow and full of amusement, "would your dog self—who, just to be clear, shares the same brain as you—let the one person you hate the most in the world coo at and pet you?"
Sirius finally lifted his head, ready to glare.
But Remus—his friend, his confidant, the one who was supposed to have his back—was grinning.
And then—
The traitor started laughing.
Sirius groaned, thunking his head back onto the dirt.
This was it. This was the end.
James and Remus would never let him live it down.
Peter would somehow make it even worse.
And worst of all?
Sirius Black would never be able to forget that, for one horrifying, mortifying, soul-crushing moment …
He had whined for Snape’s attention and how good it felt to have it, even for a second.
Severus had slept quite well his first night back at Hogwarts, thank you very much. Well, as well as a 40-year-old war veteran trapped in a teenager’s body could. Which meant a solid three, maybe four hours. Honestly, that was practically luxurious compared to his usual standards.
He was still riding the high of yesterday’s achievements. His dormmates were acting weird around him (probably still freaked out by his sudden personality shift), and he was fairly certain he had successfully given Sirius Black an existential crisis about where exactly the line between dog and man was. That, combined with the fact that he had been humiliated in front of his friends, made for an excellent night’s work. So yes, Severus had gone to bed feeling quite satisfied.
The fact that he was now awake at three in the morning, staring at the ceiling, did absolutely nothing to dampen his mood.
Well. That was new.
Since sleep was clearly out of the question, he figured he might as well get started on the mountain of work that had piled up during his little week-long absence. Maybe if he worked through it now, he could at least be halfway done by breakfast.
With that in mind, Severus got out of bed and went through his usual routine. Showered with his newly brewed potions, changed into a comfortable sweater and pants (because it was the weekend and he could not be bothered with the full uniform), and dried his hair with a spell. He still wasn’t used to having long hair, and tying it back was a struggle, but he managed to secure it in a low ponytail at the base of his neck. It would have to do.
Speaking of hair, he was seriously regretting letting his mother cut his bangs. ‘It’ll frame your face better,’ she had said. ‘It’ll make you look nice,’ she had said. No, what it did was make his hair fall into his eyes every five seconds, and he was beginning to suspect that she had just wanted an excuse to mess with it. But whatever.
Once he was ready, he made his way to the common room, fully expecting it to be empty—because who in their right mind would be awake at this ungodly hour?
His gamble paid off.
With the fireplace crackling nearby, he took a seat on the floor, dumped his terrifying stack of homework onto the table, and got to work.
Halfway through his Arithmancy assignment, a thought crossed his mind.
Did he actually need to do this?
It wasn’t like he planned on sticking around long enough to need any of these grades. He had no intention of reliving a future he had already suffered through once. He still wanted out of the castle.
But then again…
Despite technically being underage again, he could still use magic outside of school without the Ministry breathing down his neck. That was good. However, he didn’t want to find out what lengths Dumbledore would go to in order to drag him back if he tried to leave. No, he’d play the long game. Keep his head down. Minimize attention.
That was the plan.
So, for now, he resigned himself to finishing his damn Arithmancy work.
By 8 AM, the common room started filling with students who were studying for their OWLs, NEWTs, or whatever other academic nightmares they had coming up. Severus took this as his cue to leave. He had miraculously worked through most of his assignments—the only thing left was Transfiguration.
Ugh.
He still hated that subject with a burning passion. No matter how much he and Minerva debated it, he couldn't bring himself to care. It was like forcing himself to get excited about a mouldy sock. So he pushed it to the bottom of his to-do list and decided to deal with it later.
For now, breakfast.
Severus returned to his dorm to put away his stuff and retrieve his robe, only to be met with the sluggish, half-conscious form of Evan Rosier, who had seemingly just awakened. The remainder of the dormitory remained wonderfully silent, filled with the sound of deep, uninterrupted sleep.
No forced interactions first thing in the morning?
Bloody hell. Maybe today was going to be a good day after all.
When Severus arrived at the Great Hall, he was surprised to see more students than he had anticipated. Who in their right mind was willingly awake this early? He poured himself some tea, methodically adding his standard three spoons of sugar—because at this point, it was less about taste and more about a desperate attempt to sweeten his entire existence.
As he spread jam on his toast, he took the risk of actually looking around at the students he had once gone to school with. A lot of the faces were familiar—not because he had been close with them, but because he had been their childrens’ teacher. It was unsettling, seeing their younger selves again, their expressions full of life instead of… well… death. Especially those at the Gryffindor table.
Huh. It had somehow taken him until this exact moment to realize that he had outlived most of his yearmates.
Speaking of the Gryffindor table—he turned his gaze and immediately locked eyes with Sirius Black, who flinched. Flinched. And then turned pink. Interesting.
Severus watched as the other Marauders, intrigued by their friend’s odd behavior, followed his gaze. They landed on him, and from all the way across the Hall, Severus could see Lupin struggling to suppress laughter while Potter reached out to pet Black’s hair in mock comfort. Black promptly slapped his hand away, which only prompted Potter to say something that made Black turn an even deeper shade of red.
Severus decided he had seen enough of that particular table.
But just as he was looking away, he saw her.
Lily.
And she was frowning. Staring directly at him with an expression that could only be described as suspicious inquiry.
Disastrous.
Severus had yet to figure out how to talk to her again. And knowing Lily, she would absolutely want to talk to him, especially after his unexplained week-long disappearance. Severus decided he was not ready for that conversation, so he did the only logical thing: pretended he didn’t see her.
Which, in hindsight, was a terrible decision.
Having spent more time missing Lily than actually knowing her, Severus had spent years idolizing her. In the process, he had conveniently forgotten some of her less saintly qualities—like the fact that she was relentlessly nosy. If she wanted answers, she would get them. Immediately.
There was no escaping this.
As Severus casually tried to make a dignified exit from the table before she could reach him, he realized—too late—that he had completely neglected to pay attention to his own table. Which is why he failed to notice that his dormmates were sitting just to his left until Rosier decided to open his mouth.
"Why are you in such a hurry, Snape?" Rosier asked, shoveling food into his mouth as he spoke. Merlin, do purebloods not believe in table manners?
"If you're worried about Mulciber hexing you for your recent behavior, don’t be," Rosier continued, finally swallowing his food. "I don’t think he can even make eye contact with you right now." He smirked at Mulciber, who, sure enough, was staring at his plate, looking very much like he’s trying to ignore what's happening around him.
"I'm not worried about Mulciber," Severus said dismissively, finally standing up— only to come face to face with Lily.
Damn Rosier and his bloody mouth for distracting him from his escape.
For the first time since being thrown back in time, Severus completely froze.
She was right there. Right there.
It had been so long—too long. He had forgotten so many small details about her. The exact number of freckles on her cheeks, how they scrunched up when she frowned. The way her green eyes held so many emotions at once, even when she wasn’t trying to show them. The subtle drop in her voice when she was truly, deeply angry.
Shit.
"Sev, where the bloody hell did you disappear to without even telling me? Do you have any idea how worried I was?" she snapped, staring him down with all the fury of someone who would absolutely shake him by the shoulders if she could.
Severus just stared at her. His throat tightened. His vision blurred slightly.
She was here.
She was real.
Not a memory. Not a hallucination.
For two decades, she had existed only in his grief. In moments stolen from the past, replaying in his mind like a cruel, looping tape. He had imagined conversations with her so many times that for a second, his mind almost refused to believe this was real.
Lily’s anger softened just a fraction as concern crept into her eyes. She must have thought his silence meant something was wrong.
Unfortunately, his silence also made it seem like he didn’t want to talk to her— which was absolutely not the case.
So, of course, Mulciber decided to take it upon himself to speak for Severus.
"He obviously doesn’t want to talk to you. So how about you crawl back to your table, mudblood?" Mulciber sneered.
And just like that, Severus was unfrozen.
Without even thinking, he flicked his wand—which he had taken to keeping hidden in his palm at all times—and sent every bit of food on Mulciber’s plate flying directly into his face.
The entire Hall fell into a stunned, dead silence.
Severus didn’t care.
No one. No one. Was allowed to call Lily that word. Ever.
Not after he had said it to her.
Not after he had betrayed her.
Not after he had spent two decades haunted by the way it had broken her.
"Do not ever fucking call her that," Severus hissed, voice low, dark eyes fixed on Mulciber like a predator about to strike. "If you do, I will personally ensure that you never say another word again."
Mulciber, still dripping with eggs and porridge , looked equal parts stunned and horrifically insulted.
Severus straightened, exhaling slowly before glancing back at Lily, whose expression was a mix of shock and… something else.
"Would we be able to talk about my disappearance outside the Hall, Lily?" he asked, his voice quieter now.
She blinked, eyes flicking from him to Mulciber before finally nodding. "Yeah," she said, still sounding slightly dazed.
Severus wasted no time turning on his heel and leaving.
Behind him, there was a wet, squelching sound as Mulciber abruptly stood up, sending food sliding off his robes and onto the floor with an unceremonious splat.
"You can't keep treating me like this, Snape! I'll make you pay! " he bellowed.
Severus didn’t even bother looking back.
He had faced far worse things than a privileged teenager prat throwing a tantrum.
The only thing that even remotely unsettled him right now was the conversation he was about to have with Lily.
How was he supposed to get through this like a normal person?
Merlin, save him.
They walked in silence—the most painfully awkward silence Severus had ever experienced. And yes, that included every time he’d been left alone with Voldemort. How was it that a teenage girl had him more on edge than the most powerful Dark wizard of all time?
He led them to an abandoned classroom, one he knew hadn’t been used in centuries. With a deep breath, he pushed open the door and motioned for Lily to go in first. She did—but not before shooting him a suspicious glare.
Severus steeled himself, wishing he had a smoke before bracing for what was about to be the single most agonizing conversation of his second life. But there was no time for stalling, so he walked in, head held high, and closed the door behind him. His hands may or may not have been trembling. But no, they absolutely were not.
Before he could even turn to face her, Lily, already glaring, wasted no time.
“What the hell was that?”
Severus blinked. “My disappearance?”
“No, you dunce . What just happened with Mulciber.” She rolled her eyes. “You know damn well I can handle myself. And I’m a prefect now—I could’ve taken points off him for saying that.”
“I know you can.” He said it softly, still just looking at her, admiring how fearless she had always been.
Lily crossed her arms. “Then why did you do that? Didn’t you just tell me last month that dealing with him isn’t worth the trouble and to just ignore him?”
Ah. Right. Past-him was such an arsehole .
“I was wrong about that,” he admitted. “I apologize. Vermin like him need to be put in their place before they start thinking they can get away with worse.” He was already thinking of what Mulciber would do to Mary Macdonald later this year—how no one would really do anything about it.
Lily’s anger momentarily faltered. “I—you’re sorry?”
“I am.”
She looked… stunned.
“I didn’t realize how much that word hurt you,” he went on. “I assumed everyone was like me—able to ignore it as long as it didn’t cause any immediate harm. But that was wrong of me.” He had spent years letting slurs and taunts roll off his back, thinking it was normal. It took seeing the hurt on Lily’s face—and later, on the faces of his Muggle-born and half-blood students—to realize just how deep words could cut.
Lily just stared at him. Really, truly looked at him.
“Sev… are you okay?”
That confused him.
“I’m perfectly fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Lily huffed. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you disappeared without a trace for a week—no letter, no warning. Then you come back looking like you belong in a shampoo ad on the telly, and you’ve been ignoring me since yesterday. And don’t you dare say you weren’t—I saw you try to flee the Great Hall the second I started walking toward you.” She jabbed a finger at his chest. “And now you’re apologizing. Over something I’ve been complaining about since first year. And let’s not forget you just stood up to Mulciber—you told me you couldn’t stand up to him because he’d make your life here even more hellish. So, tell me, Severus—what the hell is going on with you?”
Severus, for the second time that evening, was frozen. He could tell her, sure, but she’d either think he was insane or—worse—she’d believe him and realize exactly what kind of person he had been.
But he also couldn’t lie to her.
Taking a deep breath, he decided to tell her what little he could.
“I just realized I’ve been going about things all wrong,” he admitted. “I thought that if I kept my head down, played along with my housemates, and followed the right people, I’d get what I wanted—power. Enough to stop being the scared, scrawny kid everyone either ignored or tormented. Enough to protect the people I care about.” He swallowed. “But I realized that they can’t give me that. They won’t spare the same people they condemn just for my sake. I realized I should use my brains for something more than just… following.”
He hesitated.
“I disappeared for a week because I needed to get away. I went home. I needed to see my mum—to make sure she was okay.” He exhaled sharply. “And in that week, I had time to think. To really think. And I realized I have so many faults, Lily. So many . I’ve hurt you in ways I didn’t even recognize before. I was a coward. I was selfish. I wanted to fit in with my housemates so badly that I neglected how it made you feel.” He met her eyes, his voice barely above a whisper. “Lily, you’re not just my closest friend. You’re the closest thing I have to a family. And I’m truly, deeply sorry that I never told you that before.”
His throat was tight. His vision blurred.
Oh.
Oh, he was crying.
Well. That was embarrassing.
Not that it mattered much—because the next thing he knew, Lily was sobbing too.
She moved in for a hug, and after a brief hesitation, Severus reciprocated.
Lily wiped her face on his robe, sniffling as she tried to pull herself together. It wasn’t working. “Damn it, Sev,” she mumbled, her voice thick. “Now your robe is all gross because you decided that now was the perfect time to have some grand revelation.”
Severus let out a breathy, wet chuckle, rubbing at his own eyes as discreetly as possible—not that it helped. He’d already been caught crying. The damage was done.
“It’s fine. After everything I’ve put you through, the least you can do is take revenge by smearing snot all over my robe.”
Lily, never one to waste an opportunity, rubbed her face even more aggressively against his chest out of pure pettiness.
“Alright, that’s enough revenge,” Severus said, attempting to pull away.
She only clung on tighter, practically grinding her face into his robes at this point.
“Just making sure,” she said innocently before finally stepping back.
Severus sighed, looking down at the mess she left behind and pulled out his wand to clean it.
Lily smirked. “Least you deserve.” Then, her expression softened. “Since you apologized, I feel like I should too.”
Severus frowned. “For what? Giving my robes an unwanted bath?”
She rolled her eyes. “No, idiot. For not seeing things from your point of view. I know how bad things are at home, and when things got worse here with the Gryffindor boys, I tried to step in, but… maybe not as much as I could have. Maybe because I started to believe what people were saying about you.”
Severus tilted his head.
Lily winced. “that you were heading down the wrong path. And I guess I started to see it too.”
Severus shrugged. “Don’t apologize for that. Honestly, don’t even think about it. I gave as good as I got when dealing with those arseholes. And, truthfully? They weren’t completely wrong. But from now on, I don’t think dark or light really matters to me anymore.”
Lily gave him a long, scrutinizing look. “Alright. I can work with that. As long as I have my best friend back.”
Then, a slow, mischievous grin spread across her face. “I can’t believe you actually cried after giving me that heartfelt speech. Are you sure you’re not a Hufflepuff now? Grand speeches? Teary-eyed declarations? Very un-Slytherin of you.”
Severus scoffed. “That insult doesn’t really work considering the absolute mess you made of your own face thanks to my grand speech.”
Lily gasped in mock offense. “Excuse you—”
“And for the record, Hufflepuffs aren’t that bad,” Severus interrupted. “It’s just their house colors that ruin them. Yellow is a truly dreadful color.” He shook his head dramatically.
Lily let out an exaggerated sigh. “Alright, Hufflepuff sympathizer. I assume you have tons of work to catch up on since your little escapade happened during the school term? You do realize we’re months away from our OWLs, right? Idiot.”
“Oh, believe me, I am painfully aware.” Severus groaned. “Actually, could you help me with Transfiguration? It’s been absolutely kicking my ass.” He added, not because he really needed the help, but now that the conversation he'd been dreading was over, he wanted to spend more time with Lily.
“Yeah, sure. Library?”
He nodded and pulled open the door—only to find four very familiar figures stumbling away from it in a poorly executed attempt to act natural.
Severus sighed. Of course. The Marauders.
It was probably Potter’s idea—he’d been pulling this stunt since fourth year, convinced Severus was up to no good whenever he spoke to Lily alone.
The four of them leaned against the opposite wall, trying and failing to look casual but kept glancing at him as if he were some confusing puzzle. Even Potter, which was impressive, considering Lily was standing right next to Severus.
Lily crossed her arms, unimpressed. “Subtle as ever, I see.”
Severus barely even acknowledged them, turning to Lily instead. “Library’s good. Just need to grab my bag from the dorm first.”
Lily let out a long-suffering sigh, as if the Marauders weren’t worth the effort it would take to scold them. “Yeah, me too. I’ll meet you there.”
They walked together until they reached the stairwell. Just as they were about to part ways, Lily tilted her head, eyes narrowing.
“By the way, how did you get that scar on your neck?”
Severus barely paused. “Some stag attacked me with its antlers while I was gathering ingredients in the forest.” He shrugged like it was the most normal thing in the world and kept walking.
Behind him, there was an audible, very Potter-esque guffaw coming from where the Marauders were watching them.
Lily, however, was not laughing. “What the hell, Sev?! You don’t just say something like that and walk away! You know we’re talking about this in the library!”
Severus just kept on walking.