The plan
**Gryffindor Boys' Dormitories**
*10th January, 1974*
The castle was bloody freezing, the sort of chill that crept through your robes and straight into your bones, no matter how many jumpers your mum might've packed. But the dormitory held a different kind of cold. This was the sort that didn't need draughts or frost to make your skin crawl.
Severus crept into the Gryffindor boys' dormitory like a thief in the night, robes whispering around his ankles. Everything about the place made him itch—scarlet bed hangings, golden tassels, half-eaten boxes of Honeydukes' sweets tossed on the floor like rubbish. It reeked of smugness and Quidditch socks.
He wasn't meant to be here. Obviously.
But he'd made it this far, hadn't he?
He wandered over to what he assumed was Potter's bedside table—there was a half-empty bottle of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion and an old pair of cracked glasses lying on top. Definitely Potter. With a deep breath and a final glance over his shoulder, Severus pulled open the drawer.What he found made his stomach drop clean to his shoes.
Photographs. Loads of them. Stacks of bloody Polaroids spilling out like someone had been collecting them for years. All of them showed the same thing:Him.There was one of him sitting in the Slytherin common room, a book in hand, unaware. Another in the Great Hall, mid-sentence, his mouth slightly open like a complete berk. He kept flipping through them, each one worse than the last.And then he found *those*.
The ones taken outside Hogwarts.One, in particular, made his hands start to shake. It was him and his mum, stood just outside the door to their house on Spinner's End. She was hanging up washing. He was chatting with her, nothing unusual.Except someone had been watching. Photographing. Following.His knees buckled, and he gripped the edge of the bedside table to steady himself. The bile rose hot in his throat. This wasn't schoolboy teasing anymore. This was madness. Obsession. Something vile.
He shouldn't have fucked around and found out.
"Bit of a jerk move, going through another blokes things, innit, Snivellus?"
The voice was quiet. Not the usual loud-mouthed jeering Severus expected from James Potter. No cocky swagger in the tone—just something quieter. Tense. Measured. Severus turned slowly.
There they were: James. Sirius. Remus.
All three stood in the doorway, blocking any chance of escape. Wands out. Expressions unreadable. Not laughing. Not shouting. Just *waiting*.
Severus's mouth went dry. His wand was buried in his robes somewhere, but he knew better than to reach for it. It'd be like waving a white flag and asking to be hexed into next week.He was a rabbit. They were wolves.
He should've legged it when he had the chance.
**Hogwarts Library**
*2nd January, 1974 — Eight Days Earlier*
The library was drafty as ever, and the lamps flickered every time the wind howled down the corridor. But it was quiet. And quiet meant safe, usually.
"Lils, I'm telling you—it's a watertight plan!" Severus insisted, leaning far too close across the table, his voice an urgent whisper.
Lily didn't look up from her notes. She rolled her eyes, dipping her quill into her inkwell with the sort of exaggerated sigh that said she was *this close* to thwacking him with her Charms textbook.
"Sev, it's absolutely *not* a good idea to break into the Gryffindor dormitory," she said primly. "Have you completely lost your marbles?"
He straightened, shoving a hand through his hair. "Normally, I'd agree. I *would*. But they've got something in there, I know it. I just need a quick look. Ten minutes, tops."
Lily glanced up then, the corner of her mouth twitching. "You're barking, you know that?"
"But clever," he added quickly, flashing the faintest hint of a grin.
She rolled her eyes again, but this time the smile stuck. "Fine. I'll help you get past the Fat Lady. But after that, you're on your own. If you get caught, I'm saying I hexed you to the ceiling for being a right idiot."
A genuine grin broke across Severus's face—rare, awkward, but real."Thanks, Lils. I owe you one," he said, and before she could say anything else, he darted forward and pecked her cheek—just quickly—before scarpering off down the corridor like his robes were on fire.
**Slytherin Common Room**
*Later that Night*
The dungeons were dim and damp, as always, but Severus didn't mind. It felt honest here. No forced smiles. No blinding light. Just shadows and secrets.
He charged through the common room, ignoring the groans of tired fifth-years trying to revise. He spotted Regulus curled up on one of the green velvet armchairs, a book in his lap and one brow already cocked like he knew something was up.
Severus dropped into the seat beside him.
"Right," Regulus said dryly, not even glancing up from his book. "What've you done now?"
"Lily said yes."
Regulus *did* look up at that. "To what? You finally ask her to Hogsmeade?"
"No," Severus said, practically bouncing with excitement. "She's helping me get into the Gryffindor dorm. Marauders' room."
Regulus blinked. Then slowly, a grin curled across his face. "You're joking."
"Nope."
"Well, bloody hell," Regulus said, sitting up and chucking his book onto the table. "We'd better make it count, then. If we're risking our necks, might as well take those gits down with us."They leaned in together, parchment and ink pulled between them, two Slytherins plotting something that, if it worked, would be the talk of the castle for *weeks*.