Friends
He probably should have known it was going to happen. After all, that whole day, Dahlia couldn’t meet his gaze without freezing and trying to brush it off.
That night, right after Severus had finished brewing the newest potions for her and emerged from the shower, his hair still dripping wet, he found nearly the entire Order waiting for him in his and Dahlia’s little living room.
Molly had been promising a party, although Severus never quite truly thought that she would fulfill it.
And when he did limp out of the shower, in the soft, green pajamas Dahlia had provided him with, ones that were gentle against his sensitive skin, Severus completely froze as he saw many pairs of eyes looking back at him.
In that moment, he’d thought that they were here for him again, to capture him. He’d thought that they were Death Eaters, but then Molly ran forward and gave him a gentle hug, one that he knew no one could give but her.
They hid their surprise well, given that his appearance resembled a ghost.
Severus had always been pale, nearly white, and after his years of torture, his skin was white, nearly translucent. His hair hung in lanky, dull strands, slightly unhealthier than the last time he’d seen him, but not as oily. And the horrendous, ugly wound gaping red on his neck was ten times worse than Bill’s, which covered his entire face. The scar ripped open the bottom of his cheek, messed with his lips, and ended horribly at the base.
Molly turned positively green as she saw how it was still red and slightly inflamed.
It was really lucky for him that he’d already met Granger, Potter, Lovegood, Longbottom, and the youngest Weasley boy, because the five didn’t look quite as shocked as the rest of them did.
Severus’s skin was brighter than the last time they saw him, but his eyes still had that haunted, dead look, and the way that he stumbled forwards even with his cane concerned Hermione.
He was supposed to be fine now, wasn’t he? After all, hadn’t it been…three months or so? She’d been healed by then, at least physically.
But then, she reminded herself, Snape had been in Azkaban for three years, not the few hours she was tortured. And Kingsley did say something about him being tortured by multiple wizards around the world, didn’t he?
“Oh, Severus,” Molly exclaimed, tears in her eyes. She went forward and wrapped Severus into yet another hug.
“You don’t know how distraught I was when I found out… you were on our side all along! I felt awful, leaving you out, calling you so many things behind your back, you were our hero, after all! We couldn’t have won the war without you. I don’t know how hard it must have been for you, all alone! And the fact that we held a funeral, and even grieved for you when they said you were gone! I’m so sorry, Severus!
“You should’ve let us visit you earlier!” Molly continued, looking up with tears brimming in her eyes.
Severus patiently waited for her to finish.
“I was disgusted about what that horrid man did to you! If only he were captured-”
Severus cut her off gently
“Thank you, Molly, I appreciate that. There really was no way that you could’ve known that I was in Azkaban and alive…”
Hermione felt a rush of pride for her professor- his words were clear, if not raspy, but not as contorted as before. And Ron looked shocked, as well, but probably for another reason, as if he hadn’t thought that Severus Snape had the capacity to be nice.
“We’ve got presents,” Molly said.
Severus shook his head, “Really, you shouldn’t have.”
“Don’t be silly, it’s your birthday! And it isn’t a birthday party- we’re too old to have that, but a-”
She gestured madly to Ginerva, Ronald, and George Weasley, who all rolled their eyes, waved their wands, and held out a large banner that spanned across the entire living room:
“HAPPY WELCOME BACK FROM AZKABAN AND HAPPY, HAPPY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY PARTY” covered in bright pink glitter.
“George!” Molly gasped, horrified. “George, it was supposed to say, ‘Welcome back, Severus Snape’! Not whatever that is! And look at all of that glitter!”
The twin snickered, and then pointed to his sister.
“Mum, she’s the one that did all of the glitter.”
After a few seconds of quiet fuming, Dahlia steered Molly away from her children so that she could continue fussing over Severus.
Finally, ten minutes later, she rushed away after shouting about forgetting the cake. Severus, leaning quite heavily on the wall, then shook hands with many Order members, who were expressing their “deepest apologies” and whatnot about everything that had happened in the past few years.
The “Golden” Trio was there, including Lovegood- Luna, he corrected himself- Longbottom, all do the Weasleys, Minerva, Lupin and his son, Kingsley, Fleur Delacour, and, to his extreme jumpiness and anger, Mundungus Fletcher as well.
“Hagrid wanted to wish you a happy birthday, as well, but, you know.” Minerva gestured around them. “He’s just simply too big.”
“Sit down, sit down,” Molly then said eagerly, having returned from the Burrow after retrieving the cake.
They sat where they could, but Dahlia firmly put her hands on his shoulders to guide him so that he could sit on a chair and not the ground, which was probably wise, because the last time he’d sat on the ground, with his right leg extended (which was the only way for him to sit on the floor), Teddy stepped on it and it resulted in a sobbing toddler and a pained, spasming ex-Death Eater.
“Hullo, Professor Snape,” Potter said happily, thudding down onto the chair next to him.
Molly beamed at them and hurried into the kitchen. Severus watched her go with gritted teeth, not wanting to start the conversation with the boy at all.
He didn’t mind Potter as much as he used to, but conversations still weren’t his cup of tea.
“How’ve you been?”
Severus swallowed a sigh.
“Just dandy,” he rasped sarcastically. He watched the door; Molly came back with a giant cake in her arms.
“Er- good.”
Severus eyed the scene around him, desperate for them to leave although the party had barely started…
He felt a jolt of guilt as he looked at George Weasley’s cut ear, but at least it was a clean slice, wasn’t it? Severus wished the horrid bite cheek was as smooth.
Kingsley was laughing heartily with Arthur, but Severus felt a stab of annoyance at the Minister. Surely, if he had enough time to come to the party, then Macmillan would already be captured?
Dahlia, his heart gave a jolt when he saw her, was talking animatedly with Molly, helping her with the gigantic green frosted cake. Severus’s stomach squirmed unpleasantly; he’d never liked sweets that much, but if he didn’t eat it, it would only come out as rude.
Mundungus Fletcher, however, wasn’t talking to anyone, instead eyeing at the people around him jumpily.
“He’s got a cold,” Potter explained as he followed Severus’s gaze. “Poor bloke, not feeling too well.”
“But well enough to come?” Severus rasped shrewdly. He knew that he probably shouldn’t judge, but years as a spy made him untrustful of people.
He was feeling alright that day, so his tongue was a tad sharper than usual, his mind sharper and clearer than it had been in days.
“He looks off,” Severus muttered. Something was different about how he looked, but Severus couldn’t quite grasp what it was.
“Does he?”
“Perhaps it's because you haven’t seen him in three years, Severus,” Minerva said amusedly from the couch.
“Maybe.” Severus squinted closer at Mundungus, trying desperately to find out why the mental alarm in his head was going off so loudly.
Two minutes later, Molly shrieked as the cake was nearly dropped and forced everyone to sit down as food was passed along, although that’s what they’ve been doing all along.
“Thanks for this, Molly,” Severus said to the Weasley matriarch, who beamed back tearfully. Was he really thankful? Maybe not, but he liked Molly, he sincerely did.
“It was nothing, really, with everything that you’ve done for us…”
Ronald Weasley rolled his eyes at his mum.
“‘Nothing’?” He exclaimed. “Mum, you fussed about it for days!”
“Be quiet, Ronald,” she snapped, and then forced a smile again.
Dahlia was sitting to Severus’s right; Harry was still sitting on the seat to his left.
Molly placed the cake down in the middle, Slytherin’s serpent frosted on the side. Severus involuntarily flinched, hisses starting to sound in his mind.
The Weasley matriarch cut the cake and distributed it. The cake was alright, he supposed, but he couldn’t really say anything, for he was never that much into sweets.
As a child, he’d never known the comfort of others baking him a cake with his name written in frosting, or the clash of multiple voices wishing him a good birthday. He’d never had the love of a mother’s hug, or really any love at all. This day would’ve been a dream come true for an eight-year-old Severus, even if he’d gotten a picture of a snake instead of his name.
“I wanna go first,” Potter said eagerly, slamming his gift down onto the table. Severus jumped; he’d forgotten about those and was secretly wishing for the party to leave, granting him quiet from the headache that was already forming and the anxiety threatening to spill.
He thrusted it into Severus’s hands, and Severus shakily unraveled the ribbon- his hands had become increasingly steadier over time.
Severus’s eyes widened- inside, neatly labeled and stacked, were jars of rare and valuable potions ingredients, ingredients that you couldn’t get just in your local apothecary store.
“People send over stuff, with me being the Boy-Who-Lived-Twice, and this guy sent me these… I never brew, and I heard that you were thinking about helping Dahlia on brewing her medicine, so, yeah.”
“Thank you, Potter,” Severus said weakly, trembling happily as he eyed the bottle of acromantula venom.
“Sure,” he replied, looking pleased. “And you can call me Harry, professor, everyone does.”
Granger went next, shoving a massive dictionary into his arms.
“For really big words,” she said importantly.
“Or for working out,” Ronald Weasley added. “That thing weighs the same as me.”
He looked like he had regretted even opening his mouth, though, when Granger smacked him on his head with the book.
Ronald and George Weasley, who were both working at that shop in Diagon Alley, gifted him with a box full of the most popular items there, though why Severus needed a nose-bleeding pill, he did not know.
He wanted to apologize to the twin, but throughout the entire party, the man never met his gaze.
Luna gave him the second book to her father’s series, this time, though, it was filled with Completely Nonfiction Muggle Tales, one story including a rant that “Cinderella”’s “fairy godmother” was not actually a fairy at all but a witch. Severus didn’t want to admit it, but during hard nights, he still had Dahlia read the old stories to him.
Molly gave him more fudge. Lupin gave him chocolate. Teddy gave a hand drawn picture to “Uncle Sev”, which, admittedly, made his cold heart melt. Minerva gave him an old picture book stamped with photographs through the ages, including a large collection of photos of the House Cup with “Gryffindor” on them, as if reminding Severus of his multiple losses. Longbottom gave him yet another plant, although Severus wondered why Longbottom or Luna was here at all. Bill and Fleur gave him special products and sweets from France.
Mundungus… well, Mundungus gave him stolen artifacts from the Black House, which he promptly returned to Potter.
And when Kingsley held out his gift to Severus on behalf of the Ministry, he almost cried.
There it was, in all its former glory, his faithful wand. Severus never thought he’d see it again. He thanked Kingsley profusely. He’d thought that it had been snapped, or stolen, or just simply vanished. He needed help casting with his right hand, of course, but his wand meant so much to him.
And there it was, sparkling and elegant and neat. The Order of Merlin, First Class, presented to Severus Tobias Snape. The evidence of his hard work. But Severus found that he didn’t treasure it as much as he thought he would. Maybe it was because he knew, finally, that he was worth a lot more than a slab of gold and a title could give.
Because when he looked at the faces of each of the people that he'd known for so long, even Mundungus, Severus felt at home. However much he hated parties, or disliked annoying ex-students, the fact that people actually put time into making sure that he was happy healed a tiny crack in his heart.