The quidditch field
???
9th January, 1974 – 11:30 PM
"You're not to hurt him," said ???, their voice clipped and low, eyes flickering nervously between the three boys standing in the shadows of the Astronomy Tower.
James rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, we know. Merlin's beard, we're not going to hex his bloody arms off," he huffed, folding his arms. "Bit insulting that you even think we would."
??? handed over a folded piece of parchment. James took it eagerly, tucking it inside his robes like it was a love letter rather than whatever shady little scheme this was.
"Cheers," Remus said politely, the only one of the three who didn't look like he was itching for trouble. They shook hands, quickly and quietly, and then disappeared into the dark, feet silent against the old stones.
Present Day
Free Period
3rd January, 1974 – 10:00 AM
Severus slipped through the side door of the castle, book bag slung over one shoulder, robes a little askew from a hasty escape out of the common room. The Quidditch pitch was the one place he could guarantee a bit of peace and quiet.
He glanced over his shoulder—and promptly scowled. The Marauders, all three of them, were strolling in the same direction, laughing like they hadn't a care in the world. Severus picked up his pace, muttering something under his breath that probably would've got him detention if Slughorn heard.
"Lils!" he called, relief washing over him as he spotted her ahead, halfway across the courtyard.
Lily turned at the sound of his voice, her face lighting up—until she saw the Gryffindors behind him. Her smile faltered. She glanced at them, then back at Severus, and suddenly turned away, walking briskly in the opposite direction without a word.
Severus stood there a moment, dumbfounded, then frowned. "Brilliant," he muttered to himself. "She probably just remembered she left a cauldron on or something..." But the hollow feeling in his chest said otherwise.
By the time he reached the Quidditch stands, the Marauders had vanished like mist, and the field was quiet. He chose a spot by the bench and flopped down, pulling out his battered old potions book. It was held together more by habit than by spine.
He opened his ink bottle—and groaned. Nearly empty. "Great. There goes the last of my spending money," he muttered, as he dipped his quill and began making careful corrections in the margins.
The bench creaked beside him, and a familiar shadow fell across the page.
Severus looked up. "Reg," he said, voice softening.
"Alright, Sev," Regulus smiled faintly. "You looked like you could do with some company."
"I don't," Severus replied automatically—but he didn't tell him to leave. Regulus sat down anyway, crossing one leg over the other with the kind of casual confidence only a second son of a rich pureblood family could manage.
A quiet fell between them, not awkward, just... easy. Regulus reached over and gently laced his fingers with Severus's. The older boy didn't look up, but a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he kept scribbling notes.
Ten feet away, beneath a poorly-concealed invisibility cloak, three Gryffindors watched the scene unfold with varying degrees of horror.
"The hell?" Sirius whispered, his voice sharp. "Is Snape—is Snape dating my brother?"
"I reckon the better word's 'shagging'," James began cheerfully, only to yelp as Sirius smacked him across the back of the head.
"I swear to Merlin, Prongs—" Sirius growled, glaring.
"Oi! You hit me!"
"You deserved it."
"Enough!" Remus hissed, slapping both of them on the back of the head like an irate nanny. "Shut it, the both of you. We are here to observe, not provide comic relief!"
"He started it," Sirius and James muttered in unison.
"Well, I'm bloody ending it," Remus snapped, arms crossed. "If either of you so much as breathe too loudly, I'm taking your brooms and snapping them in half."
That shut them up.