If...

Severus' skin was clammy. He had been dragging his old trunk for twenty minutes, making his way through the crowds of Muggles coming and going at the station. Moments earlier, he had appeared near King's Cross, away from prying eyes. In a way, he was glad that his mother had waited until he was of age to leave their home. Otherwise, the teenager would have had to find other ways to get to London and beg his drunken father for money.

He got on the train when platform 9 ¾ was almost empty. And he saw her, Lily Evans. She, too, was carrying a trunk - in much better condition than his - that looked as light as a feather pillow. He hadn't seen her since July at Hogwarts, when she lived not far from him. Severus felt his heart pounding in his chest. He wanted to speak to her, but the words stuck in his throat, deep inside. They wouldn't come out. He loved her, he would never admit it, he would never say it. He just couldn't. What was the point of admitting his feelings to a girl who had nothing but contempt for him! And to think they had been best friends...

The look Lily gave him froze him. Her beautiful green eyes looked at him with hatred and contempt. Severus wished he could have died instantly, or been swept to the floor of the carriage, rather than endure those prying eyes. But he had no choice but to look away and return to his compartment.

Mulciber and Avery paid him no attention, nor did Rosier and Wilkes, who were engrossed in conversation as he opened the compartment door. Severus had known these boys since his first year at Hogwarts. These four teenagers were his only friends now. He had nothing in common with them, only a taste for dark magic. Unlike him, these Slytherin students had grown up in large, wealthy families. Severus, though gifted in many areas, was the unloved offspring of an alcoholic Muggle and a witch rejected by her own kind. 

“Finally, our last year!” rejoiced Avery. “The ordeal will soon end.”

“Yes,” added Wilkes. “In a year's time, on the same day, we'll finally be able to do what we want!”

“I can't wait to get away from this crumbling castle and this crazy old man for good!”

Severus, slumped against the door, listened with one ear to what his companions were saying.

“So, Severus, what are you going to do after Hogwarts? Brew potions and get nothing?” scoffed Mulciber. “If you like, I can give you some addresses. My father knows many beautiful people in Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley.”

The other three boys sniggered.

“Unless he finally decides to join us” mocked Avery. “Perhaps the Dark Lord will make an exception for him.”

“I don't know yet,” Severus replied in an annoyed tone.

“You'd better choose sides quickly!” replied Mulciber. “For us, it's already done!”

What did he mean by that? Had he and the others ever sworn allegiance to this wizard? Severus would be lying if he said he had never been tempted. He had been drawn to the Dark Arts ever since he was a student at Hogwarts, and the Dark Lord - as he was known in Slytherin - had worked wonders. In his house, many of his classmates were fascinated by this mysterious wizard. Sometimes Severus dreamed that he had joined him, that he had become one of his students, even the best. And Lily admired him, telling him how foolish she had been to think that such a powerful wizard was evil incarnate.

Eventually, reality snatched Severus from his sweet dreams. The Dark Lord would never take him under his wing. The young man had nothing to interest the wizard. Severus was only half-blood. His mother's blood might have been pure, but the Prince's was nothing. In Slytherin, the ruined and almost extinct family was mocked. A few decades earlier, the family had been one of the most respected in the land. But miscalculations, risky investments and unsuccessful marriages had brought the Prince family down the social ladder. His mother had dealt the fatal blow by marrying a mediocre Muggle and bearing him a son.

Eileen Snape, née Prince, had been absent from Cokeworth for months, leaving her own son without a word. Severus had questioned his father, of course, but he hadn't been much help. Sometimes, after downing a bottle of cheap whisky, Tobias Snape would say that she had probably gone off with another man, but he was unable to name him or describe him. Severus did not take it seriously. It simply wasn't his mother's style, and she rarely left the house. Nor could Severus think of any man his mother might have gone out with. She didn't socialise with anyone in the city and had no connection to the wizarding world. Her disappearance was simply inexplicable.  

Gretchen Bulstrode opened the door to their compartment with a bang and sat down on Evan Rosier's lap. Severus had noticed that the two of them had been circling each other for months. What Severus didn't understand was what Rosier could see in a sixth year who looked like a large watchdog.

“Gretchen how was the prefects' meeting?” asked Rosier.

“Pitiful!” exclaimed the Slytherin prefect.

“Dumbledore has chosen the Mudblood Evans to be the new Head Girl!”

Severus' heart leapt in his chest. He loathed that insult, the one that had sounded the death knell of his friendship with Lily.

“Pitiful indeed,” repeated Rosier. “And what happened next?”

“You'll never believe me,” she replied.

“Keep talking!” Wilkes encouraged her.

“That little prick Potter has been appointed Head Boy!”

Severus felt a dull rage and his eyes even seemed to pop out of their sockets. Potter, the bully, the one who didn't give a damn about the rules, had been chosen by Dumbledore.

“At least he's a pureblood,” Avery laughed. “Which is more than can be said for his classmate. Isn't that right, Severus? I seem to remember you two getting on quite well a few years ago. You've come to realise that scum isn't worth much.”

He ignored him. Lily was anything but a scumbag.

“Dumbledore, lover of riffraff!” laughed Rosier. “A few more years and we'll be powerful enough to clean up this school! And who's coming with us now?”

“That sissy Crouch,” giggled Gretchen Bulstrode.

“I suppose his father's position at the Ministry convinced Dumbledore to use him as a bulwark,” Mulciber replied. “What an idiot!”

“What do you mean?” asked Severus, puzzled.

“Crouch knows who his superiors are,” Mulciber replied. “He'll be smart enough not to get us into trouble, and maybe he'll be tempted. After all, isn't that our mission this year? To lure lost sheep into our nets!”

The four boys and Gretchen giggled as Severus hesitated which way to go.

*

Severus awoke early. He had spent most of the night rehearsing his conversation with Lily the night before. His friend had had no trouble recognising the kind of teacher he was in front of his students: a cold, authoritarian man who frightened children. There was nothing to say, it was pathetic. What had he done to deserve this, the boy from Cokeworth? At St. Melchior's, Severus had been the butt of Mr. Lowood's bullying and cruelty. For a year, the Snape boy had endured almost daily strokes of the ruler on his fingers and head, insults and the dripping contempt of the sadist. Why was that? Severus had never been a normal child, being a wizard, but Mr Lowood had always ignored him. He'd been a strange child, attracting strange phenomena and trouble. To Mr Lowood, Severus was just a poor brat who would turn out to be as bad as his father, a miserable worker and a liar. Of course, it hadn't been just Mr Lowood, the other teachers hadn't been particularly kind to him either. But this one had been the worst of all.

The teachers at Hogwarts were generally decent, though none of them had ever taken up his cause, not even Slughorn. Pupil-on-pupil bullying was not considered a matter of concern in those days. However, he had to admit that Minerva McGonagall, the Head of Gryffindor, had always been fair and strict with every student, whether they were from her house or not. Potter and his gang had often received detentions from her. 

Severus had never wanted to be a teacher. It had never been his dream. Yet it was a great way up for someone like him, who had grown up in the most despicable of neighbourhoods. Hogwarts was considered one of the finest wizarding schools in the world. Great wizards had shared their knowledge with the future of the magical world. Severus' salary was not inconsiderable either, as he had just been hired. Severus also knew that when Horace Slughorn retired, he would take over all Potions teaching and become the Head of Slytherin House. Dumbledore had promised him this after negotiating his future position within the castle.

Teaching at Hogwarts at the age of twenty-one was quite an achievement. Severus was the youngest Potions Master in the history of the castle, and perhaps the youngest teacher ever recruited. What would his mother have thought if she had known? Severus struggled to know; Eileen Snape had always been a mystery. As for his father, there was no point in scratching his head. Tobias Snape would certainly have said that his son now belonged among his kind of deranged. Those were the words he had spoken just before he left for Scotland as an eleven-year-old boy.

Lily was convinced that he could be a teacher who would be appreciated and respected by his pupils. But being kind, patient and gentle was not in his nature. He wasn't warm like Lily, or even kind.

*

Severus buttoned the last buttons of his robes as he thought about his day. It was going to start badly, as he would be forced to meet Sirius Black and welcome him to his house. The young professor would have preferred not to cross paths with his long-time enemy, but Lily and Black had to become friends. Worse still, the bastard was the godfather of the boy Severus had promised to protect. He couldn't remember the boy's name. It was a very simple and common name. But to say the two syllables was to carve in stone the boy's existence and his relationship to James Potter. Severus had to see him first and foremost as Lily's son. After all, the boy was far from unpleasant. Severus had expected a shrill, stubborn brat, but the boy was quite the opposite. Worse, he seemed to like him. He clamoured for his arms and loved to hear him read from Potions Today.

Severus, on the other hand, had mixed feelings. Before meeting Lily's son, he had never been confronted with such a young child. For a long time, the Potter offspring had been nothing more than a target for the Dark Lord, an unfortunate obstacle, a name, a detail. Severus bitterly regretted his earlier thoughts. How could he have condoned, for a brief moment, the murder of a baby in its cradle? The child he had taken from its cot had looked up at him with green eyes, the most beautiful he had ever seen, Lily's eyes. Of course, he looked terribly like that despicable James Potter, handsome and charismatic. He could have hated the boy for that crime alone, but Severus was incapable of that. Quite the opposite, in fact. Despite himself, he was beginning to like the boy, and Lily had noticed. And yet the boy's name still hadn't crossed his lips.

Severus waited patiently for Sirius Black to arrive in his sitting room. He had promised Lily that he would do his best. The witch was sitting on the sofa, mechanically twirling her long red hair. Was she anxious? Was she doubting his goodwill? Severus knew that if Black caused even the slightest spark, the wick would ignite and burn itself out. Severus did not consider himself a violent man. He had never started a fight of his own accord at St Melchior's, for example. He had taken blows, both at Cokeworth and at Hogwarts. And he had returned them in self-defence, often in a very pathetic way. His father had once spat in his face that boxing lessons were an unnecessary expense. Severus - who disliked the sport - knew full well that his father preferred to spend his money on bottles of booze, and perhaps blessed God that he hadn't had a son who was good at fighting. Otherwise, he would have had to advance him the money for his weekly boxing lessons. It wouldn't have cost a fortune, just a few pints less beer.

Black appeared shortly after. He glared at Severus with laughing eyes but greeted him with all the friendliness of a wizard of his rank, steeped in aristocratic manners. Severus kept his cool and returned the greeting. Lily relaxed and Severus surprised himself. He had been polite to the man he hated most in the world. No... Black was second only to the Dark Lord. Should he put all the Death Eaters between his former master and his pet hate? Perhaps... But he felt a sincere repulsion when he was in Black's presence, whereas he didn't feel that unpleasant sensation when he was with any other Death Eater. 

“No warnings? No instructions to obey?” sneered Black as Severus prepared to leave.

“No, I don't. I think you know what you can and can't do,” he replied in a distant tone.

He wouldn't play his game.

“Lily, I'm off. Have a nice day. I won't be late.”

“Have a nice day too, Sev,” she said with a smile.

He was about to cross the hearth when an amusing thought occurred to him. He wanted to annoy Black, make him jealous and prove that he was an excellent host.

“I'll read the rest of Potions Today to the boy when I get back. Harry is fascinated by mandrakes and their use in potions.”

Lily froze and Severus thought for a moment that he had said something stupid or made some terrible mistake. Then a smile played across the beautiful redhead's pink lips.

“Of course! You can read to Harry when you get back. He loves to hear you read.”

Without realising it, he had said the boy's name, breaking the taboo. Harry, Harry, Harry and Harry. He'd finally said the stupid name!

“Yes, I know... Harry likes to be... read to,” he stammered, completely confused.

He hurried into the fireplace without a glance at Black, without even savouring his little revenge.

Severus stumbled and hit his head on a table as he reached his flat. The table was definitely in the wrong place. He promised himself that he would move it as soon as he had the

had the chance. The apartment he had been given was different from his home. It was tastefully furnished, but it lacked the warmth that Lily was beginning to bring to Spinner's End. Severus - who had very few possessions - had changed almost nothing about the layout. When he had arrived in September, he had brought a single trunk in which he had stored a few items of clothing and books on the art of potions and black magic.

He rubbed his aching forehead. He might have a lump. He could hardly believe he had finally said the name of the little boy who lived with him.

“Harry,” he said to convince himself. “Harry, Harry, Harry.”

In his eyes, the boy was no longer the offspring of the terrible Potter, he was just Harry. How could he repeat a prophecy about a baby's life? Severus began to realise the horror of what he had done. His own cowardice, his own blindness. He had made the cruel mistake of burying his feelings and emotions for years. The young man who had joined the Dark Lord shortly after leaving Hogwarts was a numbed, apathetic being. Only disgust, hatred and anger animated him. It was only when Lily's life was threatened that everything became clear again, or almost.

He had no intention of changing sides by meeting Dumbledore in secret, for no Death Eater had ever betrayed the Dark Lord and come out alive. Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater. The Dark Lord had marked him for life with fire and dark arts. That mark, embedded in his flesh, had made him proud and given him a sense of omnipotence. Now he was ashamed of it.

Severus arrived at his classroom early. He had to teach the first years, who were divided between Gryffindor and Slytherin. He had never shown the slightest sympathy for the Gryffindors and had even taken some pleasure in bullying them. But persecuting students who had the misfortune to be in the same house as Potter, Black, Petigrow and Lupin now seemed utterly pointless, even stupid. He no longer wanted to be immature and tyrannical with children over the age of eleven.

Severus sat at his desk, contemplating how he would deal with his students in a few minutes' time. He had no wish to become a double of Slughorn, who loved flattery and fancy names above all else. Severus was not that kind of man; he valued merit and hard work above all else. Lily had been right to remind him that Minerva McGonagall, Pomona Sprout and Filius Flitwick had always been respected teachers. They had never needed to be feared in order to gain the respect of their students. Severus had to find his own mark, his own way of being.

When the hour struck, the young teacher called the students to order. The Gryffindors gave him looks of both hostility and fear, while the Slytherins, whom he favoured all too often, entered his classroom on conquered ground. The two houses had never got on. Severus had learned this the hard way as a student. Long before he arrived at Hogwarts, he had harboured prejudices against Gryffindor. And from his first trip on the Hogwarts Express, Potter and Black had proved him right. Lily, assigned to the Lions, could have put an end to his dislike for the red and gold house. She was not a hothead and valued intellect over biceps. But Severus was a fool in those days.

“Open your books to page fifteen,” he ordered his pupils. “And get to work.”

The students obeyed in silence. Severus had planned to have them make an herbicide, a potion that was very easy to make and very useful.

He passed through the ranks and saw a Gryffindor crushing the lionfish spines very roughly.

“What are you doing, Mr Perrot? You won't get anywhere with that!”

“Um... Well... I thought I read that we'd have to get a rough powder, sir.”

“Let me see that,” Severus replied, taking the book from the student's desk.

Severus read that the student was telling the truth. Over the years, Severus had improved every potion in the two textbooks used at Hogwarts, but he had forgotten that no one knew about it and continued to obediently follow what Arsenius Jigger recommended.

“Sir, we mustn't crush roughly?” a Gryffindor asked timidly.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, not wanting to lose his temper. It wasn't the children's fault. Looking around the classroom, he could see that even the Slytherin mortars were far from flawless. He had to seize this opportunity to impose his style and demonstrate his talents.

“Close your books. They will be of no use to you. Don't bring them here again.”

Naturally, the students' eyes widened. In the past, Severus had docked points from anyone who forgot their textbook.

“Listen carefully and pay attention. I won't repeat myself.”

He went to the blackboard and wrote down the protocol for the herbicide he had improved as a student.

“You will need to grind the four lionfish spines into a powder. I want a very fine powder, as light and fluid as flour.”

“What difference does it make? It says in the book that the result must be rough,” a Gryffindor interjected.

“In my class, we raise our hands when we speak, Mr Cole. And I would appreciate it if you would address me as sir.”

The student shrivelled up on his stool.

“But I'll give you an answer. By reducing your ingredients to a very fine powder, you'll reduce the workload on your cauldron. What's more, the active effects of lionfish and Standard Ingredient will increase tenfold. Your herbicide will be even more effective. Any other questions?”

The students fell silent.

“Right, follow the instructions on the board.”

Throughout the lesson, Severus passed through the rows, watching the movements of his students. He even came to the aid of a Gryffindor who was struggling to grind the Standard Ingredient in her mortar. She didn't have the right technique and was tiring herself out by pounding her mortar with the pestle.

“No, not like that, Miss Byrd. Watch me do it. Just a few strokes will do. Now it's your turn.”

The student applied herself and in turn obtained a very fine powder.

“Mix with the other powder. Good.”

A quiet, studious atmosphere gradually settled over the classroom. Severus did not even have to raise his voice, and some did not hesitate to ask his advice.

“Yes, we're getting close to green, Mr Rivers. One more drop of Flobberworm Mucus and it'll be perfect. Yes, Miss Sharp?”

At the end of the lesson, each of his students presented him with a vial of their work. Severus could see that the mixtures they had prepared were, on the whole, very satisfactory. None of them had given him a blue, pink or orange potion, unlike the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins the day before. The Gryffindor and Slytherin potions were a lovely shade of green.

When his pupils had left the room, Severus felt a sense of pride and relief. There had been no incidents, no disobedience, no insolence. These children had listened to him, they had asked for his help, and they had done the day's work brilliantly. He hadn't even had to dock a single mark. That had never happened to him before. The Gryffindors had even behaved respectfully towards him and none of them had had to suffer his wrath.

Severus applied the same method to his other classes and was impressed by the changes his new attitude had brought about.

Shortly after two o'clock, he went to his flat to return to Cokeworth, where Lily and Harry were waiting for him. But a house-elf standing by the fire told him that Dumbledore wanted to see him in his study. Reluctantly, he went. He was so looking forward to telling Lily about his day and seeing the admiration and pride in her eyes. 

Near the gargoyle that gave access to the Headmaster's office, Severus passed Horace Slughorn coming down the stairs that led to Dumbledore. His former teacher and new colleague seemed agitated. 

“Ah! Mr Snape,” he said, forcing a smile. “Er... I mean, Severus. Forgive me, my dear boy. I hardly realised we were colleagues, even though you were my pupil three years ago. You... you're going to see Dumbledore?”

“I do, Horace.”

“Per…  Perfect! My dear boy! I won't keep you any longer... I'm... I'm very... very busy.”

Slughorn didn't look him in the eye, in fact he avoided his gaze. His walrus moustache was sweating profusely. 

“I'll leave you to it then,” he said before hurrying off.

Severus climbed the spiral staircase and found the Headmaster sitting at his desk.

“You sent for me, Dumbledore?”

“Yes, sit down, Severus.”

The young teacher took a seat opposite the old man and waited to find out why he had been summoned. No doubt the headmaster wanted to talk to him about the escaped Death Eaters and inform him of a possible arrest.

“You saw Horace before you came here, I presume.”

Severus nodded.

“How did you find him?”

“Excited, a bit strange,” he replied. “Does it affect you?”

Dumbledore smiled and stroked his beard.

“I have another favour to ask of you, Severus.”

“Wha... What?”

The Headmaster wasted no time in telling Severus what he thought. According to the Headmaster, Horace Slughorn had information of the utmost importance, but refused to share it with him.

“I'm afraid that Horace will decide to retire in the middle of the year precisely because of this information, which I desperately need.”

“You... you want me to get it out of him? I could use some Veritaserum...”

“No, Severus. You must be persuasive... I need a full memory. Besides, school rules strictly forbid the use of such potions...”

“But... what if he leaves?”

Severus and Horace Slughorn had never been close. He had been accepted into his club, but Severus had never thought much of the parties the old Potions Master threw.

“Frankly, I don't understand what you want from me, let alone Slughorn.”

“The name Tom Riddle means nothing to you. Do you, Severus?”

The repentant Death Eater had never heard this name. 

“Who is he?”

“You know who he is.”

“If I'd met someone called Tom Riddle, I'd remember,” Severus replied sceptically.

“Tom Marvolo Riddle was a student at Hogwarts between 1938 and 1945.”

“I wasn't even born,” Severus replied curtly.

“Like you, he was sorted into Slytherin. He was one of dear Horace's favourite students.”

“And?”

“I suspect he has become the most fearsome dark wizard our century has ever seen," the founder of the Order replied matter-of-factly.

Severus gulped at the words. Did that Riddle the wizard he had served willingly for months, the one who had given himself a name no one dared to speak?

“Yes, Severus. Lord Voldemort is really Tom Marvolo Riddle. And if we are to destroy him once and for all, you must learn his secret from Horace. Only he knows the truth now.”