Chapter 9
Charity Burbage.
Once upon a time, she was nothing more than an annoying nuisance —one that had pestered him with relentless friendliness from third year all the way to fifth.
Unfortunately, she succeeded in worming her way into his life by sixth year.
How?
By dropping the sickeningly sweet act and revealing that, beneath all that bubbly energy, she was a vicious little menace who could throw a punch.
It all started when Severus got paired with Aurora Sinistra for an Astronomy assignment in sixth year.
By that time, his friendship with Lily had gone up in flames—quite literally, the way it burned whatever remained of his good mood. As a result, Severus had lost interest in talking to anyone who didn’t serve a strategic purpose.
This, of course, meant he spent most of his time with the Slytherins he sucked up to in hopes of securing a position of power.
Except for Sinistra.
She was a Ravenclaw, which should have disqualified her from his carefully curated social circle.
But she was as intelligent as he was, and academically, they were perfectly matched in almost every subject—except for Astronomy, where she was miles ahead.
After their assignment, she occasionally sat at his library table, where they coexisted in silence.
It wasn’t the worst arrangement.
But apparently, Charity saw things differently.
She was convinced there was something going on between him and Sinistra.
She was so determined to uncover the truth that she terrorized him for weeks, demanding answers as if she were some kind of muggle detective.
And then, one day, things escalated into a full-blown fistfight.
Flitwick caught them while she was mid-swing and forced them into detention together.
Which was how Severus found himself dusting a high shelf in an old room they were assigned to clean, when Charity—face bright red —finally blurted out the real reason for her investigation.
She had a crush on Sinistra.
Since third year.
And she had completely lost it when she thought Severus— of all people —had beaten her to it.
Severus had laughed.
For ten minutes straight.
Laughed so hard that he lost his balance, fell off the stupid ladder, and hit the floor, still laughing.
Looking back, it was probably the first time he had felt anything other than soul-crushing misery since fifth year.
After that?
Well… somehow, they became actual friends —though it took Severus years to admit that to himself.
He even recommended her for the Muggle Studies professor position when the old one retired.
And he regretted that decision every single day.
Because maybe if she hadn’t been at Hogwarts—
Maybe if she hadn’t been right in front of him that night—
Maybe if she hadn’t begged him for help while that noseless lunatic prepared to kill her—
Maybe she wouldn’t have died.
No.
This time, he would do better.
Charity had been trying to befriend him since third year because she wanted help studying from the smartest person in their year—all in an attempt to impress a certain Ravenclaw.
So.
All Severus had to do was capitalize on that.
Even if it meant suffering through her ridiculous overly-friendly fake persona until he annoyed her enough to snap and call him something truly creative.
It was a simple plan.
But as Severus marched toward the Hufflepuff table, he started noticing something.
People were staring.
Which… okay, fair, considering he had never voluntarily ventured to this side of the Great Hall before —not when the Gryffindor table was right next to it.
Still, he bravely pressed on.
With his back to the exit, facing the professors' table, he stopped right next to where Charity was sitting.
And took yet another deep breath.
A breath he immediately regretted.
Because when he cleared his throat, it sounded uncomfortably similar to a certain pink toad he had been forced to work under in his previous life.
Fantastic.
Even better—Charity didn’t notice.
She was too wrapped up in her conversation with her Hufflepuff friend.
But everyone else noticed.
Severus clenched his jaw.
He cleared his throat again, this time louder, and finally, she turned toward him—
And of course, her stupid blonde curls fell perfectly into place as she did.
Oh, right.
She had practiced that.
She had once confided in him that she spent months perfecting the art of the graceful head turn.
Now, she was looking up at him slightly surprised.
And Severus—
For the briefest moment—
Forgot what the hell he was doing.
Charity, bless her annoyingly perceptive soul, seemed to finally decide she’d had enough of him just standing there like an idiot.
So, in true Charity fashion, she took matters into her own hands.
With that practiced friendly smile he knew was fake but still somehow incredibly effective, she tilted her head and said,
"Hello there, Snape. Can I help you with something?"
She looked politely confused, like he was some lost first-year who had wandered too far from his common room.
That was it.
Severus decided to snap the fuck out of it before he embarrassed himself even more.
"Burbage, come with me to the Slug Club party in three weeks."
The words came out too fast, too serious, and too demanding —like he was summoning her rather than inviting her.
Charity blinked.
Then blinked again.
Then, slowly, she tilted her head even further. "What?"
Okay.
Judging by the loud guffaw from behind him—which sounded suspiciously like Black—and the not-so-subtle giggles from the surrounding Hufflepuffs, he could tell.
He had completely botched this.
But who could blame him, really?
Even in his previous lifetime, he had never asked anyone to go anywhere with him.
Severus could either let the embarrassment swallow him whole, or he could do what he used to do best —suppress all human emotion and pretend everything was perfectly fine.
So, he cleared his throat yet again, doubled down, and reached into his bag, pulling out the slightly crumpled invitation that Slughorn had shoved at him earlier.
With as much professorial dignity as he could muster, he held it out to her and, in a voice far too formal for a teenage boy, tried again.
"Apologies. What I meant to say was—would you like to accompany me to the Yule party that Slughorn is hosting for Slug Club members in three weeks? There will be many individuals of great importance within the wizarding world in attendance. You do not have to say yes or answer immediately if you require time to consider. I apologize for placing you on the spot with this request."
There.
Professional.
Mature.
Straightforward.
And yet—
The giggling only intensified.
Charity, saint that she was, at least tried to keep a straight face, but her eyebrows shot up like he had just asked her to sign a legally binding contract rather than attend a party.
"What?" she asked again.
Severus considered running straight into the Forbidden Forest and never returning.
He was so close to either ripping out his own hair or hers just to escape the situation.
Maybe —and this was just a theory—if they got into another fistfight, they could skip ahead to being friends again, just like in his previous life.
Maybe that's how their friendship was supposed to work.
But no.
He had already dug this hole.
Now, he had to lie in it.
“Burbage, I’m asking if you’d like to come to this party with me.”
Severus repeated, his patience rapidly deteriorating.
Maybe he should have just used one of the school owls to send her a note. That way, he wouldn’t have to stand here like an absolute moron in front of the entire Hufflepuff table.
“Oh, no, I got that,” Charity said, nodding. “I’m just confused why you’re asking me.” Then, with the innocence of a kneazle before it pounces, she added, “Last time I spoke with you, you told me to shut up and leave you alone.”
…Okay, so, that did sound like something he would have said.
And just when Severus thought this interaction couldn’t get any worse, she kept going.
“You do realize that if I say yes, we’d have to interact more, right? Like, on purpose? You do know that?”
She was still smiling, but there was a slight twitch in her eye, like she was trying very, very hard to suppress her righteous irritation at his sudden dumbassery.
Merlin, was he ever going to go a full minute without being reminded that he had been an unbearable teenage bastard?
Severus took a deep breath, swallowed his pride, and forced himself to answer.
“I… apologize for that as well.”
Charity raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it yet.
He pressed on.
“I have no specific reason for asking you, if that helps.”
A lie. A blatant, bold-faced lie.
“I just realized that I… have never been to a wizarding party like this before, and I assumed you hadn’t either. So, if we went together, maybe it wouldn’t be so overwhelming.”
Another lie. Though technically true. He had been to wizarding parties before—just the kind that involved masked psychopaths pledging eternal servitude to a homicidal megalomaniac, so… not quite the same thing.
Charity narrowed her eyes at him like a highly suspicious badger, but her tone remained deceptively cheerful.
“That’s… a unique thought process.” Then, tilting her head, she asked, “So, you’re asking me to help you feel less overwhelmed in a new situation… not because you’re asking me as a date?”
… What fresh hell was this?
At what point was he allowed to question reality?
Was it too early to accept that this was not actually a second chance at life but rather the personalized hellscape he had originally suspected it to be?
Severus took another deep breath, gripping his crumpling invitation like it had personally wronged him.
“The less overwhelmed part,” he said, forcing his voice to stay even. “I didn’t ask you to be my date, because this is not going to be a date.”
Charity nodded, far too seriously, as if this was an incredibly complicated legal contract she needed to clarify.
“Right. Just to be sure. Not a date?”
Severus’ eye twitched.
Charity, demon that she was, was smirking. But only slightly, still keeping up her perfect, practiced nice-girl act for everyone else.
And that’s when it hit him.
He had been remembering Charity the way he had once remembered Lily—through rose-tinted nostalgia.
He had only focused on the good qualities—her loyalty, her unwavering friendship, her ability to match his sarcasm blow for blow.
He had somehow forgotten how incredibly, insufferably annoying she was.
He had no idea how that was even possible.
So, with his last remaining ounce of patience disintegrating into dust, he blurted out—“It’s not a date. It will never be a date. I’m as gay as a rainbow, so you truly have nothing to worry about.”
Silence.
Not just from Charity, but it seemed the ongoing giggling that had been ongoing since he first opened his mouth had ceased.
Even Black was silent. Which was a welcoming observation.
Severus groaned. “Are you going to answer anytime soon, or should I just stand here longer so you can make me regret coming over here even more? I should have just asked with a note” He muttered that last sentence mostly to himself.
“What are you wearing to the party?” Charity asked, sounding genuinely curious.
Severus blinked. “What?”
“Well, I figured if we’re going together, we might as well match.” She shrugged. Then, with a smirk, she added, “Even if it’s not a date.”
Severus ignored the bait this time. “So, you’re coming with me?” He asked, unsure whether this was actually happening or if she was just toying with him like the habit she had in his past life.
“Yeah, sure. As you’ve said before, I’ve never been to a wizarding party, so might as well grab the opportunity when it presents itself, right?” she said. Then, as if remembering something critically important, she asked, “So, what are you wearing?”
“Alright, good. I’m glad.” Severus said, a genuine smile forming on his face.
Charity froze.
…Which was fair, honestly. He only ever scowled at her. Smiling was very out of character.
She seemed momentarily stunned, so he continued, “Oh, I think I’m just going to wear this.”
He gestured down at his uniform.
That seemed to snap her out of her existential crisis.
“You’re wearing your school uniform to the party?” she asked, looking horrified.
“Yeah, I haven’t got anything else, and I don’t have the money to buy anything.” He shrugged, because it really wasn’t a big deal to him.
Teenage Severus would have rather died than admit he was broke, but current Severus had been a war veteran by 21 and dead by 38 by the same war, so honestly? He couldn’t be bothered to care anymore.
“But you can wear whatever you want,” he added. “I don’t care if we match. Go as fancy as you like.”
“Unacceptable.”
Severus barely had a second to register this before Charity dramatically shot up from her seat, lunch completely forgotten.
“Listen,” she said, as if she were about to launch into a speech. “This is my first wizarding party, and I want everything I can control to be perfect. That means we both have to look good, because we’re going together. So, I’ll get us outfits.”
Severus opened his mouth to protest, but she plowed on.
“You don’t have to pay me back,” she added, “since it’ll be a one-time thing. But you could… I don’t know… give me some tutoring lessons? Especially in Astronomy.”
At this, her cheeks went a little pink, and she shrugged as casually as humanly possible.
Severus raised an eyebrow.
If he were still his original teenage self, he would have responded to this situation by hexing her for correctly assuming that he couldn’t afford to pay her back.
But then again, if he were still his original teenage self, he wouldn’t be here in the first place.
And anyway, past Severus had taken an embarrassingly long time to figure out a very simple lesson: having people know you’re poor isn’t the end of the world.
Well, okay, it was a big deal—just not to him anymore.
Not after fighting in a war, spying on a literal magical cult, and dying before he even hit forty.
Now, he honestly didn’t care.
If Charity wanted to micromanage her first wizarding party down to their coordinated outfits, then fine. He wasn’t about to stand in the way of her obsessive need for aesthetic excellence.
“I don’t mind that,” he said at last. “But you really don’t have to buy me anything. I’d tutor you even without it.”
Then, after a pause, he added, “Also, I’m second place in Astronomy. No idea why you wouldn’t ask the person who’s first, but sure, I’ll tutor you.”
Her slight blush darkened.
“You’ll do for now,” she muttered, suspiciously avoiding eye contact.
Then, clapping her hands together, she declared, “Now, come on—we have so much to do, and only three weeks to do it.”
And just like that, she grabbed him by the arm and started dragging him off somewhere.
Severus barely had time to process this turn of events before reality hit him like a rogue Bludger.
“Wait. Right now? I haven’t eaten yet—I’m hungry.”
Charity didn’t even slow down. “No time to eat. Much to do.”
Severus turned a desperate look towards Lily, silently begging her for assistance.
Lily and the Marauders—who, for some reason, were still standing at the door just staring at him.
Then, with zero hesitation, Lily grabbed a green apple from the nearest table and chucked it at him.
Severus barely managed to catch it in his free hand.
“Have fun!” she called out, grinning and waving at him as if she were deeply proud that he had finally made another friend that's not a blood supremacist.
Severus shot her the filthiest glare imaginable as he took a resigned bite of the apple.
Charity dragged him into an abandoned classroom in the dungeons—because of course she did. Since the Hufflepuff dorms were also down here, she clearly knew her way around the dungeons.
Severus, meanwhile, was beginning to rethink his decision of redeeming a friendship he treasured if involved her manhandling him like this.
Charity then proceeded to take over the rest of the lunch period, bombarding him with an exhausting questioning about how he wanted their outfits to look.
“Alright, so what colors do you like?” she asked, quill poised over parchment.
Severus shrugged. “Don’t care.”
“Pattern or no pattern?”
“Whatever you like.”
“Jewelry?”
“I don't mind.”
“Hats?”
“I swear on Merlin’s tits, if you put a hat on me, I will rip it to shreds.”
The last time he had been seen in a hat was thanks to that Longbottom prat and Lupin’s stupid Boggart lesson. To this day, he still hadn’t recovered from the trauma of being publicly humiliated in full ridiculous grandmotherly attire.
Though, if he was being completely honest… he was a little proud that he had scared his students enough for one of them to fear him that intensely.
The cost of that realization, however, had been far too great.
She tapped the quill against her chin, thoughtfully. “Got it. We’ll start with hats.”
Severus groaned and slumped against the desk, dying inside.
But she wasn’t done. Oh no.
She squinted at his hands. “Wait—are you wearing nail polish?”
Severus glanced at his nails, which were coated in a dark, potion-made polish.
“Yes.”
“What brand? Every brand I have doesn't have that shine and yours looks unchipped!”
“It’s not a brand—it’s a potion I made.”
Her eyes lit up like a Lumos spell. “You made it? Can you make other colours?”
Severus hesitated. Then, grudgingly answered, “Yes.”
“Make me some.”
Severus blinked. “Excuse me?”
“I want five colours, if you can.” she said, as if this were the most normal request in the world.
Severus stared at her. Then, slowly, he said, “Of course I can, but you do realize potion-making takes time, right?”
Charity shrugged. “Can’t you just teach me so I can do it myself?”
Oh. A reasonable compromise. That would make things easier—
“Never mind, I don’t actually care to learn a potion —even halfass— unless I’m getting graded for it,” she added quickly.
Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. “You are… infuriating.”
“And yet, here we are.”
With a long-suffering sigh, Severus muttered, “Fine. I’ll make the damn polishes.”
Charity beamed. “You’re the best.”
Severus physically recoiled at the compliment. “Stop that.”
At long last, when Charity finally declared that she had all the information she needed and had to get to class, Severus took his golden opportunity.
He ran.
Well, okay, he walked briskly—but emotionally, he was sprinting for his life.
He decided that he deserved a little break.
He decided to skip his History of Magic lesson and take a walk outside. It wasn’t like his ghost of a professor would even notice he was missing.
Severus had many flaws—but stupidity was not one of them.
If he was going to commit the crime of skipping class, it was going to be the one class where the professor was too out of touch to snitch to Dumbledore.
As Severus walked outside, he made a noble attempt at blending in with the students already there—some skipping class, others on a free period. He spotted an empty bench and immediately collapsed onto it, sinking into the wood, closing his eyes in the process.
This was fine. He was fine. Completely relaxed and definitely not spiraling over how ridiculously complicated his life had become.
It had all started with good intentions. Fix things, he had told himself. Make life better. That was the whole point, wasn’t it? And yet, somehow, his so-called improvements had led to him publicly humiliating Mulciber in a way that even he had to admit was pretty funny. Asking a Muggleborn to a party hosted by the Slytherin Head of House —an event that would be crawling with his snake-infested housemates. Absolutely guaranteed that, at some point in the near future, he was going to have a very tedious and exhausting confrontation with said housemates.
Not that he feared them—Merlin, no. He could handle them just fine. He just… really didn’t have the energy for it.
Honestly, he should’ve treated this whole second chance at life situation like a retirement rather than whatever the hell he was currently doing.
He sighed, letting his head roll back against the bench, wondering if he had the willpower to just disappear into the shadows forever, when—
"What are you doing lately?"
Severus blinked.
Had he just said his thoughts out loud? Was this where he was now? Spilling his internal monologue into the world for all to hear? It would explain a lot, considering his recent behaviour.
But no, he hadn’t spoken.
And then, just as he was processing that, the voice came again—this time, much more grating.
"Snivellus, I asked what the fuck you’ve been doing lately. At least have the bollocks to tell us to leave instead of just ignoring us."
Ah. Of course.
Severus cracked open an eye, immediately groaned when he saw them, and promptly shut his eyes again, pretending they didn’t exist.
"Hey! You already saw us! Just answer the question, you greasy bat!" Black’s voice rang out, loud and insufferable as always.
Was it truly too much to ask for one moment of peace?
"Snape, they’re not going to leave until you answer them, so why don’t you just acknowledge—" Lupin started, ever the rational one, but Severus cut him off by finally turning his head toward them, expression flat and unamused.
"And why can’t they? Why can’t you just leave me alone? Why have you never been able to leave me alone? Since the train ride to first year—was that not enough for you?"
The Marauders blinked.
"Is it because I’m a Slytherin? Because that’s honestly quite pathetic if you think your so-called house rivalry justifies four of you constantly targeting the only Slytherin you can safely pick on without consequences. Not very brave of you, is it?"
Silence. Which was honestly the most enjoyable part of this conversation so far.
He didn’t care about their response. He already knew the answer. They bullied him because he was the only Slytherin they could bully without worrying about retaliation.
If they pulled this nonsense with any other Slytherin, their families would get involved. Because most of them were either Purebloods or Half-bloods from respectable families that actually cared about their offspring’s reputations. That would mean that the Marauders would get actual consequences, and they simply couldn't have that.
The only one who had a slightly different reason for bothering him was Potter—obsessed with his weird fixation on Lily, acting like tormenting her closest friend would somehow be a good romantic strategy.
A lesson Potter would finally learn in sixth year, when he decided that maybe he should act mature and stop picking fights with Severus in front of her, even though they were not friends anymore.
Which, of course, meant Lily thought he had become a better person and promptly started dating him and eventually even married the git.
“Oh, come off it, it’s not like you don’t give as much as you get,” was the only response Black could muster, glaring at Severus like he was the one being inconvenienced.
Severus sighed, rubbing his temples. “I don’t want to keep talking to you. I came out here to relax —which, if you haven’t noticed, you are clearly interrupting right now. Don’t you have class?”
“Don’t you ?” Black shot back.
Severus exhaled through his nose, resisting the urge to curse him on the spot. “You know I do. You’ve spent the last five years practically stalking me, so I would assume you have my schedule memorized by now.”
Black immediately turned red, opening his mouth to fire back, only to be cut off by Potter.
“Why did you lie to that Hufflepuff?” he asked abruptly.
Severus blinked. “What?”
Potter crossed his arms. “About you being gay.”
Severus stared at him, unimpressed. “I did not lie. I am gay, you dolt.”
“You’re lying,” Potter scoffed. “If you were really gay, then why are you always around Evans like that?”
Severus rolled his eyes so hard he nearly saw the back of his skull. “Because she’s been my friend since we were eight, you absolute moron. Why the hell would I lie about that?” He tilted his head, then smirked. “I mean, really—did you think I was following Malfoy around like a lost puppy for the first three years of Hogwarts because of dark affiliations?”
“Malfoy!?” Black practically screeched. “It’s obviously because you and him had some kind of shady, Death Eater nonsense going on!”
Severus snorted. “No, it’s because I thought he was quite pretty. Beautiful, actually.”
The Marauders blinked. Again.
Severus sighed wistfully, momentarily lost in thought. He wasn’t lying. He had always known he was different from other boys growing up—not just because of his magic, but something else. It hadn’t fully clicked until he met Lucius Malfoy, a Fifth-Year Prefect when Severus was a First-Year.
That mortifying crush had haunted him for years.
He was still embarrassed about the time Narcissa had casually mentioned his infatuation to Lucius himself over lunch after they’d all graduated. Lucius, the smug bastard, had been so flattered, calling it an honor to have been Severus’ first love.
Severus had immediately shut him up by threatening to de-feather every peacock on the Malfoy estate.
He forgave Narcissa the same day, mostly because she asked him to be their son’s godfather.
Merlin, he missed his Malfoy group. He was friendly with Lucius and Narcissa now, during his Fifth Year, but it wasn’t the same closeness they had after he graduated. He wondered if he’d have that friendship in this lifetime, too. He hoped so.
So long as Voldemort had nothing to do with it.
“Wait,” Lupin cut in, eyes narrowing in thought. “Why would you actually admit that? Doesn’t the wizarding world mind it, like the Muggle world does?”
Severus let out a dry laugh. “Lupin, this is the wizarding world. We can literally do anything with a wave of a wand. Who in their right mind would judge a man for liking to take it up the arse?”
He stretched, standing up with a huff. “Now look what you’ve done. You’ve turned my relaxing time into a disturbance.”
They all looked deeply uncomfortable, faces redder than a Weasley’s hair. Lupin, for whatever reason, looked the most flustered.
Severus rolled his eyes, turned on his heel, and started walking away. They didn’t even have the audacity to apologize for being the disturbance in question.
He took a few steps, paused, then turned back to them. They were still standing there, staring at him, which irritated him for no particular reason.
So, naturally, he pulled out his wand and cast a Jelly-Legs Jinx at them.
All four of them hit the ground in a flurry of limbs and incoherent yelling.
Severus smirked, tucked his wand back into his robes, and strode toward the castle. He still had enough time on his self-assigned break to go to the kitchens and get something to eat.
That apple was not enough.