
Destiny
The small boats floated down the rippling lake, moving as if they were a school of fish navigating the moonlit waters. Little lanterns bobbed along with them, casting soft glows that dotted the night like stars fallen from the sky. Severus peered over the edge of his wooden boat, watching his reflection distort in the water. The other students sharing the boat with him paid him no attention—a relief. He had successfully slipped away from Lily, Potter, and Black. If he had stayed near them, he figured they would’ve fed him to the Giant Squid lurking beneath the surface.
He glanced over at the noisy boat nearby, where Potter was hanging precariously over the side, yelling about seeing the squid. Severus rolled his eyes and shrunk lower into his seat, trying to avoid being seen. Black was there too, his expression wild, as if he was hunting for something unseen. And then, leaning over with them, was an unfamiliar, pudgy boy who miraculously hadn’t tipped the boat over yet.
Severus clenched his jaw. He turned away from the commotion, only to find himself locking eyes with a pale-haired boy seated across from him. The boy offered a smile that didn’t quite reach his cold blue eyes. Something about him was unsettling, but Severus quickly dismissed it.
"I THINK I SEE THE SQUID!" Potter’s voice boomed, drawing attention from several other boats.
Severus grimaced. He wished Potter would just fall into the lake and spare everyone his obnoxious antics. But then an idea sparked in his mind—he could make that happen. He was a wizard, wasn’t he? Why leave it to chance when he had magic?
Looking around to ensure no one was paying him any attention, Severus leaned forward and whispered under his breath, "Flipendo."
To his delight, Potter's boat tipped violently, and with a loud splash, Potter, Black, and the pudgy boy were sent flailing into the water.
"WHAT—?!"
"I CAN'T SWIM! HELP!"
The pudgy boy’s cries pierced the night, his arms thrashing about wildly. Severus felt a brief pang of guilt for dragging the poor boy into his revenge. But the Giant Squid wouldn’t let any of them drown, so they’d be fine. Probably.
Severus turned back to the front, smug satisfaction settling in. The pale-haired boy across from him was staring at him again, more intently this time. Severus' stomach twisted. Had he been caught? Did the boy know it was him who had cast the spell?
The boy’s lips curled into a strange, knowing smile. But he said nothing.
Severus decided to focus on the shore that was rapidly approaching, hoping to leave the encounter behind.
.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊
Professor McGonagall, much younger than the strict figure described in his books, led them through the castle. Her voice was commanding, yet her face showed no trace of the age she would one day bear. As they entered the Great Hall, every first-year gazed upward, awe-struck by the grandeur of the enchanted ceiling. Even Severus, who had expected it, found himself mesmerized.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” The voice was familiar—too familiar. Severus glanced sideways. The pale-haired boy had followed him from the boat and was now standing beside him.
“Absolutely breathtaking,” Severus replied stiffly, wishing he would go away.
“What house do you think you'll be in?” the boy asked, his tone casual but probing.
“I don’t really care,” Severus lied.
“Ravenclaw for me. I’d rather not be surrounded by idiots.”
Severus said nothing.
“What’s your name?” the boy pressed.
“Severus Snape.”
“An exquisite name,” the boy said, his tone dripping with superiority. “But not as great as mine—Xenophilius Lovegood.”
Severus only nodded, hoping the conversation would end. His eyes followed the first students to be sorted. Black and Lily predictably became Gryffindors. He fought the urge to sneer.
“I think you’d make a fine Ravenclaw,” Lovegood continued. “Especially after that little spell on the boat.”
Severus froze, his heart hammering in his chest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, come now,” Lovegood said with a sly smile. “Wandless magic? Impressive, even if it was just Flipendo.”
Severus opened his mouth to deny it, but before he could, the Sorting Hat bellowed, "GRYFFINDOR!" Potter stood up, basking in the thunderous applause from his new housemates. Severus felt bile rise in his throat.
“Rest assured,” Lovegood said softly, “your secret is safe with me. After all, they deserved it.”
Before Severus could respond, McGonagall called Lovegood’s name. He strutted up to the stool, and the hat barely touched his head before declaring, “RAVENCLAW!”
Lovegood sent Severus a small wave as he joined the Ravenclaw table, which Severus ignored. Then McGonagall called Severus’ name.
With leaden steps, Severus made his way to the stool. McGonagall finally placed the ancient hat carefully on his head. Severus closed his eyes. Hufflepuff, Hufflepuff, he wants to be in Hufflepuff, he immediately manifested. Although a small part of him wanted to be in Slytherin, his little encounter with Potter and Black made him reconsider that decision. He wanted to change his destiny, not follow upon it. Hufflepuff would be the answer to all his problems.
Being in Hufflepuff meant that he would have loyal housemates who would have his back. He wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire between the Slytherins and the Gryffindors. He would be on the sidelines.
He also deserved to be in Hufflepuff. He was hardworking, loyal, kind- well maybe, depending on his mood.
Interesting… Very interesting. Ah- You want to be in Slytherin?
??? Severus didn’t say anything about wanting to be in Slytherin?
I see, you want to continue your mother’s legacy. What a filial son.
NO! Severus wanted to be in Hufflepuff.
I suppose I can’t go against your wishes. Ambitious, sly, you have a bold future ahead of you. You have great qualities to be a-
“-SLYTHERIN,” the Sorting Hat loudly yelled.
Severus sat there stunned. What?
Severus sat frozen for a moment, his mind spinning. He cast a glance toward the Gryffindor table, where Potter and Black exchanged looks of disgust. His stomach twisted again, but this time with dread.
.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊
Severus made his way to the Slytherin dining table. He could feel an air of haughtiness and entitlement circling the area. He made sure to take the most isolated seat possible, to evade the whispering about his unfamiliar last name.
Unfortunately for him, the Slytherins were Slytherins for a reason. Another first year- Bruce Mulciber- immediately slid into the seat next to him.
Severus remembered a passage in the book where Mulciber allegedly used Imperius on Mary MacDonald, and Professor Snape defended him. He was most likely not good company.
“Hello, there,” Mulciber greeted Severus first, with a glint of mischievousness in his eyes.
“Hello,” Severus awkwardly responded.
“I’m Bruce, from the noble house of Mulciber,” his eyes had a glint, anticipating Severus' answer.
Severus hesitated, before saying, “I’m Severus Snape.”
A collective gasp could be heard. The Slytherins around who were eavesdropping frowned when Severus didn’t introduce himself the pureblood way.
Mulciber continued without the slightest change in expression. “Snape? I’ve never heard about that family before.”
“It’s a Muggle last name.”
Mulciber cocked his head, his lips curling in disgust. “You’re a Mudblood?”
Severus kept a poker face. He knew what Mulciber was trying to do, and he would play along. “No, I’m a Halfblood.”
Mulciber chuckled, but there was no warmth in it. “A Mudblood regardless.”
Mulciber stood up from his seat, giving Severus a disdainful look before going back to his clique of friends. Severus could read his lips as he pointed to Severus, He’s a filthy Mudblood.
Severus predicted he would be ostracized from this point forward, but he didn't falter at all. He already had everything planned out.
He would be the one laughing in the end, but he just needed to endure some hardships for now.
.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊
Plan:
- Avoid Slytherins
- Avoid Marauders
- Avoid Lily
- DO NOT STAND OUT!!!
- Make extra cash, selling potions with a secret identity
- Drop out of Hogwarts once rich
- Avoid the war
- (Optional) Curse everyone
Severus ran through his mental list again and again, trying to steady his thoughts. The amount of self-control it took to stop himself from whipping out his wand and muttering Sectumsempra was exhausting. Each stumble over an extended leg tested his limits further. This time, it was Evan Rosier’s leg that caught him, and Severus, veins throbbing in his temples, quickly composed himself before brushing it off. He added Rosier's name to the ever-growing mental list alongside Bruce Mulciber and Wilhem Wilkes, who snickered at his expense.
It was unavoidable. He had to be an outsider within Slytherin, a house notorious for devouring the weak. If he couldn’t escape the house, he would at least distance himself from the worst of them. He had endured brutality before—he could handle it here.
Severus walked through the stone halls of the dungeons, his heart heavy. His steps echoed in the cold, drafty corridors, while the others huddled together, whispering, with Severus left alone on the outside. His isolation was suffocating, but necessary.
At the end of the hall, the Head Boy stopped, his voice cutting through the silence. "This is the Slytherin Dormitory. The password is 'pureblood,’" he announced with a tone that commanded respect. The group of first years stood before a grand portrait. The woman depicted had sharp, dark features—black hair pulled tightly into a bun and a perpetual sneer on her thin lips. Severus felt a strange familiarity radiating from her, as though she looked down on the world with the same bitterness he harbored.
He found himself drawn to her.
The Head Boy continued with his explanation of the Slytherin legacy, but Severus paid little attention. The portrait captivated him, almost as if it were pulling him into its dark, aristocratic world.
"And that’s all," the Head Boy concluded. "You’ll find your dormitories assigned by Narcissa. Your names are on the door."
Severus’ ears perked up at the mention of Narcissa. A name he knew too well from another life. The name of someone who, in Harry Potter's time, had been an ally. But in his own life, she would remain a stranger.
As the others filtered into the common room, Severus stayed near the back, conscious of their unease around him. He took a step toward the portrait entrance when, without warning, a sharp yank pulled him back by the collar of his shirt.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Mulciber sneered, his voice laced with venom. “A filthy Mudblood like you doesn’t belong in here.”
Severus stumbled, catching himself before he could fall entirely. He glared up at Mulciber. "Where else am I supposed to sleep? The halls?" His voice was calm, but a sharp edge lay beneath the sarcasm.
Mulciber’s lips twisted. “That’d suit you, wouldn’t it? Better than sullying our dormitory with your kind.”
Severus didn’t even blink. He saw through Mulciber’s bravado; this was nothing more than a power play, a chance for him to assert dominance. It was a tired game, one Severus was all too familiar with. “Do your worst, then,” he said coolly, brushing the dust off his robes before turning toward the portrait again.
Mulciber’s face twisted in fury. “HEY! I’m not done with you, Mudblood!” he snapped, lunging forward to grab Severus again. But this time, Severus was ready. He slapped Mulciber's hand away with a quick flick of his wrist.
"I'm going to my dormitory," Severus said flatly, his patience wearing thin. "So unless you’re going to show me the way with your noble grace, step aside."
A collective gasp spread through the crowd of first years. Mulciber’s face darkened, and his hand twitched toward his wand. "Did you just hit me?" he asked, incredulous.
Severus raised an eyebrow, unbothered. “Yeah.”
“You dirty Mudblood.” Mulciber’s voice was trembling with rage as he pulled out his wand. He pointed it at Severus, his eyes wild with anger.
Severus instinctively reached for his own wand but found it stuck in one of the holes in his robes. Of all the times...
Mulciber was already casting the spell. “Stupe-”
Suddenly, a voice, cold and commanding, cut through the tension. “What is going on here?”
The spell faltered as Mulciber’s wand was snatched from his hand. The Head Boy stood between them, his gaze icy. His slick blonde hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, and his silver eyes gleamed with quiet authority. He held Mulciber’s wand with obvious distaste.
“On the first day, you’re already causing trouble?” Lucius Malfoy’s voice was measured, but it carried an undeniable weight.
Mulciber immediately turned on the defense. “He hit me first!”
Severus opened his mouth to protest, but Lucius raised a hand, silencing him. “A Mudblood in Slytherin?” Lucius drawled, his eyes scanning Severus with disdain.
“I’m a Half-blood,” Severus corrected.
“Still filth,” Mulciber spat, seizing the opportunity. He looked expectantly at Lucius, waiting for support.
But Lucius only sighed, clearly exasperated. “Mulciber,” he began, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, “you’re a Slytherin. Act like one. You’re supposed to have class, not behave like a common brute.”
Mulciber flinched, biting back a retort. His eyes flashed with confusion and anger, but he kept silent as Lucius leaned in close and whispered something in his ear. Whatever Lucius said wiped the defiance from Mulciber’s face, replacing it with a mixture of shame and fear.
Lucius straightened and handed back Mulciber’s wand. “And you,” he said, turning his sharp gaze to Severus, “just know your place.”
Severus didn’t respond. His throat tightened, but he managed a weak nod, taking the moment as an opportunity to slip away toward the dormitories. He didn’t need to stay and see how this would end. He knew.
As he walked away, Severus glanced back at Lucius. This was a boy who would grow into a Death Eater—an elegant, refined façade that would one day crumble in defeat. Severus noted the red flags. Lucius, Mulciber, Black, Potter—they all gravitated toward him like magnets. But Severus wouldn’t let their pull dictate his future.
To rewrite a story meant to pour your own sweat and tears into it, in order to erase the lines that once stained the pages and overwrite it with new ink.