iii
When Y/n woke early on the first day of the Hogwarts semester, they were unsure they were truly ready to teach at this school of magic. After all, who even cares about their course? They’re teaching of the normal world outside, and music, they could learn music anywhere, and who would willingly take a muggle class? If they had the world of magic all around them, why would they want a reminder of the times in which they won't be able to use it? They were disheartened. They came to teach students of things they cared about and loved, but would the students care as much about them? It would break their heart if they only taught a handful of students.
Which don’t get them wrong, some students are better than none, but they had a high standard to uphold in this new school, and they hadn’t ever been a teacher before, would they even teach well?
It was in the middle of this spiraling thought cycle, that a tap-tap-tap came at their window.
They whirled around, meeting eyes with a sparrow holding a letter stamped with the Hogwarts sigil. They carefully opened the window and took the letter, muttering a “thank you” to the bird as it flew off. Opening the letter, it showed the list of students that Y/n would be teaching. Scanning the list, there were a few notable names written in a fancy script they immediately recognized as Professor McGonagall’s.
The names were that of Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, and Harry Potter.
Y/n sighed. While they did not know all of the students on the list, with these four in the class, their time would certainly be unruly. Y/n had been warned to keep an eye on the Weasley children and their friends, especially Fred and George, and their younger brother Ron and his duo of friends: Hermione and Harry. However, this is not what Y/n was worried about. What they worried about was Malfoy and Potter. Both were pureblood wizards, and the Malfoys were always known to be cruel to any with “tainted blood,” like Y/n. Furthermore, Harry’s father, James, had always been cruel to Y/n during their own time at Hogwarts. While they did sympathize with the poor orphan boy, they did worry if he ended up like his cruel father.
“Only one way to find out.” They muttered.
Y/n rose from the bed and carefully shut the window, setting the list of students on their bedside table, as they walked over to their closet and reached for a wizardry robe.
Putting on the robe, they were brought back to their time at Hogwarts, sitting on the grass outside of the castle after class, reading through a book on the history of music their mother had bought them for Christmas. Suddenly, there was a thump near them and the sound of laughing. They turned their head towards the sound and were met with the sight of James Potter and his little posse of friends. They were laughing at a black clump on the ground. Y/n wondered if they had stolen something. James was speaking, but from the distance, Y/n could not hear their words.
It was just when they stood up to find somewhere else to read, that the lump moved, and was revealed to be Severus Snape. Y/n did not know much about the boy, but they were both first years, like the boys surrounding him. Y/n started to walk towards the group of boys, deciding if there was any way to make friends, it would be like this. But as they got closer, they realized that all of these boys weren’t friends, in fact, Snape was the object of torment.
“Hey, stop!” Y/n cried, running into the group of boys.
“Aw, does Snivellus have a partner?” Cooed a shaggy boy.
“Didn’t know you were able to find someone to love you, Snivellus,” stated a boy with a long scar across his face.
“Don’t call him that,” Y/n said, looking back at Snape as he slowly stood from his fetal position on the ground, “he hasn’t done anything to you.”
“I wouldn’t be defending him if I were you,” said Potter, his tousled hair becoming more unruly, “you clearly don’t know much about the guy.”
“I know enough.”
Potter laughed, “Until next time, Snivellus.”
Potter started walking away, and like a band of puppets lead by a string, his army followed, leaving just the beaten down boy, and Y/n.
“I didn’t need your help,” sniffed Snape.
“Yeah, yeah, you can thank me another time.” They stuck out their hand, “I’m Y/n L/n.”
Snape stared at the hand, but did not raise his own, “Severus Snape”
“I know. I think we’ll be good friends.”
Suddenly, the much older, and wiser, Y/n shook their head, knocking them out of their stupor.
“No use dwelling on the past.” They muttered.
They slipped on some basic professional shoes below their robes, and grabbed the letter from their nightstand. They checked their pockets for their wand, and set out the door, walking to their classroom to make sure they had all their necessities for the day. They set the letter on their desk for attendance during their first class, and carefully set out little chocolates on every desk. They wanted the students to feel welcome in this class, and treats were just the way to start.
Once they finished their organizing, they rushed to the Great Hall, thankfully, they were on time today, and no students had shown up to their breakfast yet.
As they settled into their seat from yesterday, praying that Snape chose a different one, they felt their leg start to bounce, and their head snapped in the direction of any sort of sound.
“Why, Professor L/n,” McGonagall cooed, “there’s no need to be nervous, they’re just students.”
“That’s why I am worried, ma’am, I was once in their place, I know how easy it is to dislike a teacher based on their class. And my subject is not exactly the most thrilling.”
“The students will love you, Y/n, I am sure of it. You were a fine young girl in your time, and during your tutelage here I am sure you will show them all how to love the outside world.”
Y/n smiled softly, their leg easing it’s bounce a bit, “Thank you, Professor.”
McGonagall smiled, and as the clock read 7:45am, Snape strolled into the hall, hesitating only a moment when he saw his seating partner, before resigning himself to his seat from before.
“Stop shaking your leg, the students will think you are causing an earthquake.” He scolded.
“I see you are joyous as always, Snape.”
“L/n.”
Soon the hall was slowly filled in by teachers and ghosts, and once the 8am bell chimed, the elder students filed into the room, filling nearly every inch of the tables, before Hagrid came in, leading the new first years to their seat at the front to decide their house.
Y/n clapped for all, but they cheered for all Hufflepuff students, always proud of their own house.
“Don’t be biased with your teaching now, L/n. It would be a shame if Hufflepuff won purely because you have given an unfair advantage all throughout the year,” Snape muttered as a student was elected Ravenclaw.
Y/n scoffed, “You’re one to talk. You’re the head of your own house, and I’ve heard of how you teach.”
“My teaching methods are fair and concise,”
“Yeah, I’m sure they are,” Y/n rolled their eyes.
The murmur of the crowd got a bit low as the Sorting Hat took its time deciding on one student, and from the Gryffindor table, Y/n briefly caught a conversation from a trio of young students.
“I think we’ll like that one down there.” A ginger pointed towards Y/n.
“Snape?” One with black tousled hair said incredulously.
“No, you dimwit.” A girl with large, black, messy curls around her face said, “The one beside him.”
“Yeah, I saw ‘em arguing with Snape, that’s a good sign, right?” The ginger smiled.
The other two nodded, and Y/n had the brief memory of black tousled hair in her own time at Hogwarts, and McGonagall’s warning of the ginger haired Weasleys.
They smiled. Perhaps the year with the trio would not be as bad as all had made it seem.
Soon enough, the Sorting Hat had finished its group and all of the students had been decided into their houses. Dumbledore stood to begin his speech, and Y/n zoned out. They knew that they should listen, after all, this was their first time back at Hogwarts after years, and Dumbledore’s speech could give them insight for the year to come. But they just couldn’t focus on anything but their worries for teaching.
Surely, they wouldn’t be such a bad teacher, after all they’d helped dozens of friends over the years with homework or with learning an instrument or two, so they had the ability to teach at least somewhere within. But would the students like them? Being in the spotlight, they got their fair share of criticism on their personality, performance, even their appearance, and kids could be cruel. They knew they couldn’t get all students to like them, but could they even get any? Or survive the coming year without too many careless, scathing comments given to them?
Suddenly, they felt the quick and strong force of a heel stomping on their toes.
“Whatever you have in your head cannot be more important than a speech from the headmaster himself,” Snape snarled under his breath.
Y/n quickly shot him a glare and paid attention to the old man to their left.
“And now,” Dumbledore raised his arms and cried to the mass of students, “I’m sure you may notice two new faces, one perhaps more familiar than the other.”
He turned to Y/n and winked, gesturing his arms to his left and right, “Might I welcome Professor Lupin and Professor L/n back to Hogwarts, and may you all welcome them into your hearts as your Defense Against the Dark Arts and Muggle Communications and Music Production teachers respectively.”
Y/n smiled softly and raised their hand in acknowledgement to the crowd. They’d been so busy with moving into the stone halls, setting up teaching schedules, and buying textbooks for the students, that they hadn’t even noticed that they were not the only new face on the staff. Beyond that, the other new professor would be one of the men that caused them so much misery during their time here eons ago.
Remus Lupin. Friend of Potter and Black and Pettigrew.
Y/n shook their head, they were too old to be holding the grudges of their past. After all, Y/n had changed so much since their own time as a student, surely so had they.
They took a deep breath and slowly let it out as the headmaster raised his glass to the joy of the year to come, “And now,” he called, “we shall dine.”
The food appeared on the tables with that call, and everyone ate quickly and ravenously. Y/n took a second to watch the students as they ate, taking in the faces of those that they might teach. They looked over to the trio from before, and the boys were eating so quickly that Y/n wondered how much food they got at home. They made a mental note to keep a supply of snacks saved up in the class, that way those that can only truly eat at Hogwarts don’t have to wait for each great meal.
After a brief twenty minutes, the students and teachers had finished their meals and the heads of the houses stood, calling to their prefects so the students could be shown to their dorms to settle in, with the short announcement of class starting tomorrow.
Y/n was unsurprised to find that Snape was the head of Slytherin. During their youth, Y/n was proud of their state in Hufflepuff, but Snape always seemed to have made it his best achievement to have landed himself in the grey and green stripes.
Y/n snorted and stood, marching off to their class to make sure of everything ready.
However, as they stood and headed in that direction, they were perturbed to find that Snape had risen with them, and followed the same way. They slowed their pace to let him catch up, then matched his own quick pace.
“Severus we seem to be very frequently in the same area, the least we could be is friendly with each other,” they said begrudgingly.
The thing is, they didn’t want to be friendly, they hated him for how abruptly they had left them behind when they were kids, or how he had spent years defacing their name during their time at Hogwarts. But they knew it was less energy to have forced kindness to one another than the hate, and it certainly looked better for the children.
“L/n, I would prefer it if you did not refer to me by my given name.” He quipped.
“Okay, Severus.”
He turned his head to glare at them.
“Look, I’m not trying to cause an uproar here, or anything. I don’t want to pretend like nothing between us ever happened and erase the past.” They looked forward, smiling at any students that were already wandering the halls, “But it does not look well to the students for us to hate each other for all of our days.”
“Only one as dim as yourself would believe that, L/n.”
Y/n’s mouth dropped open and their head snapped to face Snape, halting their step for just a moment, “Excuse me?”
“L/n, you must be aware that you hold no rights to be a teacher here. You did not go to school for it, you have no accolades to be worth your job here, instead being an uneducated songbird for the muggles. Furthermore, the first chance you saw of imperfection, you ran away like a kicked dog.” He met their eyes with a quick side-eyed glance.
“I’ll have you know, Snape, that I “ran away” because of you. You were the one who made my time here miserable, after I did nothing but be kind to you.”
“Oh, please,” he scoffed.
“You know what? Fine. You can stay as petty and selfish as you have always been, Snape.”
Before they could hear whatever retort Snape had for them, they quickly paced forward, finding their class before he could catch up, and slamming the door behind.
How could he have said that? Especially when he was the one that truly ran away! They were friends for five whole years, when he found “better” friends, and made their home miserable. They had spent years fighting upward in the stream just to make friends with anyone else after he helped spread rumours about them.
Y/n was seething.
They grabbed their wand from their robe and pointed it around the room, shouting, “Silencio!”
They grabbed one of the bookshelves and threw it to the ground. The toppled desk after desk. They shoved everything off their desk. They grabbed a vase off another shelf and threw it against the wall they shared with Snape’s classroom. They flipped their own desk, sending thousands of papers and stationary flying across the class. When they had nothing else to topple and ruin, they screamed and screamed like they had never before.
Only when they had finished screaming, and their throat was hoarse, did they start to cry. Crumbling to the ground, crushing glass shards and crumpling papers beneath their knees.
They cried for the years they had lost in Hogwarts to loneliness, to the friends they never had, to the home they left behind to be tormented by Severus Snape once more. They cried for the job they were happy in that they left behind, for the family. They cried for the years they spent feeling like they didn’t belong, and they cried for the knowledge that that pain would not leave. Mostly, they cried because after all these years, they still let Snape into their heart, because he let them into his so long ago.
They missed all of their inside jokes and all of the laughs they had shared, the late night talks, skipping curfew. All of the time they spent in the library helping one another with classes, or reading aloud lines from books. They missed the care-free ease they felt around Snape, and how he had always seemed to be most like himself around them.
But they had ruined all of that long ago with one action, and Snape had closed his heart to their reach and left them to wallow alone, making sure no one else would ever go to them again.
They wondered if he had ever heard any of their music, and if he ever connected their lyrics to how he had inspired them growing up. They wondered if he remembered the time that they had both stayed for Christmas, and their family had sent them a guitar. How they had played the guitar, and how, after long hours of humming to themself playing small melodies, they had finally gotten Snape to sing a song. They wondered if he ever thought back on their time before and felt the same hole in their chest ache.
They cried and cried and cried. Soon enough, the clock chimed one hour post meridian, and they stopped their crying, forcing themself to rise, and brush themself off. Their stomach growled, knowing how it would miss lunch, if they did not hurry. But they did not want food, they did not want to go out and face the students and their colleagues with their bloody hands or their snotty nose. Most of all, they did not want to go out, and sit beside Severus Snape, and let him see their red-rimmed eyes and their tear stained cheeks.
So instead, they picked up the remains of their record player, set it on the floor, muttered, “Repairo,” then set their debut album under the needle, and set about slowly picking up the remains of the hours they had spent fixing it.
As they picked up the students’ desks and chairs, slowly arranging them how they had liked, they wondered if they would be in trouble from McGonagall or Dumbledore for missing the lunch. Then they wondered if they were self centered for putting on their own album, but all of their lyrics were about the same pain they felt now.
Listening to themself from the past sing of feeling out of place and left behind, they slowly picked up the broken pieces of their life. Picking up their desk, the bookshelves, then waving their wand to put the things where they had gone before, after casting what must have been a million repairing spells on the bottles of ink, quills, books, pictures, frames, even some of the records they had bought just the other day.
It was just as their room was looking put together again, that a letter slid under their door.
“Next time you throw a tempter tantrum,” it read, in a curling, scribbled text, “do try to cast your silencing spell correctly upon my wall.”
Their eyebrows contorted with rage, they felt their hands curling into fists. Who did he think he was? That selfish Slytherin! He was going to be the end of them, constantly going out of his way to make them feel terrible. But suddenly, just as fast as their emotions came, they left. Replaced instead with a cruel weight in their chest and tears in their eyes. How could they have been so foolish? They had just proved every little thing that the cruel professor had said about them.
They wiped their eyes and opened their door, slowly closing it behind them. They sulked off to their room, pushing open their door, and slowly shutting it behind. They set the note upon their coffee table before the fireplace, and walked to their bed. They grabbed their favourite book and laid upon their bed, leaving the rest of tonight to be spent alone, in their covers. Resting in their foolishness.