Severus: A Portrait of the Potions Master as a Young Man

Severus: A Portrait of the Potions Master as a Young Man

By Daphne Dunham

Chapter 7: The Eagle and the Serpent

* * * * * *

As Dumbledore had pointed out, Circe Snape's love may have once been enough to save Severus from the eyes of the law, but it was never very good at saving him from his father's wrath. Indeed, a few days into summer holidays, when Darius received the letter from McGonagall describing Severus' involvement in creating and administering Veritaserum to the Potter boy, he'd been incensed.

"You're lucky Dumbledore's so incompetent he didn't report you to the Ministry!" Darius bellowed. "If word got out, you could have cost me my job!"

Severus had known his situation was precarious. His father was a formidable force to reckon with when he behaved himself, let alone when he did not. Nonetheless, he could not help himself from uttering the retort that presently escaped his lips.

"And I can just imagine what a great loss to the Ministry that would be," he murmured sarcastically under his breath.

He may have muttered, but Darius had still heard what he had said. Before Severus could prepare himself for the attack, the older Snape had his wand aimed at his son. His eyes pulsating with rage, he hissed, "You insolent - "

But Darius didn't finish his sentence. He didn't need to; the bolt of light that catapulted towards Severus from the tip of his wand spoke volumes enough. A searing pain hit Severus square in the chest, knocking the breath from his lungs with its force. Severus stumbled back, felling a chair behind him, and scrambled out of the house as quickly as he could, Darius' hexes still at his back.

Severus did not escape the Snape residence without the addition of a few more injuries: a cracked and bloodied lip as well as a welt on his forehead. Moodily, he stalked off through the grass, fists clenched and jaw bent as the memory of his latest row with Darius Snape plagued him. He didn't know precisely where he was headed, but as long as he managed to leave his father as far behind him as possible, Severus didn't really care.

When he had found himself at the clearing where he had played when he was much younger, Severus stopped walking at last. There was something soothing about the familiar landscape of pasture and pond, something cathartic about the shade-giving ash trees and wildflowers dotting the bank. It was peaceful here, so close in proximity yet so far away in practice from the Snape residence. Heaving a sigh, he settled himself beneath a particularly robust tree.

"Severus?"

It was a soft voice, a feminine and familiar one, but that didn't stop the hook-nosed boy from being startled when he heard it. "Jane," he whispered, his throat turning suddenly dry when he spied her.

He hadn't noticed her when he sat down, but indeed, Jane Swizzle was sitting nearby on the bank of the pond. There was a book resting in her lap, and her bare feet dangled into the cooling water. She swirled her toes back and forth methodically over the surface of the pond as she stared at Severus, her wide, brown eyes crinkled inquisitively. Severus froze, contemplating how awkward it would appear if he were to turn and leave. He did not, after all, particularly feel like company at a moment like this, and he especially did not care to have Jane see him in his current disheveled state.

Severus didn't have long to debate the matter, though. Jane had seen the anguish that puckered the face of the boy before her - that look that told her that something was very wrong. Promptly, she abandoned her book, rose from her spot on the verdant grass, and made her way toward him. Severus slumped further back into the shadows as she approached, hoping that perhaps she wouldn't notice the overt signs of his latest encounter with Darius. His attempt to sink into the shade proved futile, however, as Jane gasped when she saw the welt on his forehead and the trickle of dried blood at the corner of his mouth.

"Severus, you're a mess," she murmured.

Face flushed with embarrassment, Severus brought a hand defensively to his lip to cover it from her sight. Sighing, Jane pulled his hand away once again.

"Don't do that - you'll make it worse," she told him softly. "Stay here. I know just the thing."

Before Severus could respond, she had dashed away, her bare feet carrying her across the verdant grass in the direction of the nearby Swizzle residence. He scowled as he stared after her, but soon she had returned once again, a wound-healing potion in hand, and was nursing his injuries. The purple liquid stung and sizzled and smoked against his skin as she dabbed at his forehead and lip, and Severus flinched and withdrew as his face contorted with an ugly grimace.

"Severus, it'll only hurt more if you fight me on this," Jane told him gently as she continued to blot at him.

Severus scowled at her for her scolding, temperate as it was. She seemed undaunted by his sour expression, though, and continued to work, never asking how he had come to be in the battered state in which she had found him. He was quite sure she knew that Darius had been the source of his injuries; there was no way she could have not known, after all. However, he appreciated that she didn't directly ask, that she didn't force herself into his confidence. Instead, Jane just worked silently, and when he'd recoil at the sting of a medication, she'd let him, her eyes without judgment or irritation.

"How's that?" Jane asked with a smile as she placed the stopper on the rest of the wound-healing potion and set it aside.

Severus had to admit he rather felt better. She had even mended his ribs, which had been quite sore since Darius' initial hex. "Where did you learn to do all that?" he asked quietly, hoping his interest in her skill was enough to prove his admiration for it. Expressions of gratitude were not, after all, his strong suit.

"My dad, I suppose. I've always wanted to be a Healer like him," Jane replied confidently. She looked probingly at him then. "What about you, Severus? What do you want to be?"

Severus hesitated as he looked at her. No one had ever asked him this question before. He knew Bicarius Cauderon was already plotting an occupation of splendour, in the field of Potions for him, but in truth, he hadn't given his future career much thought beyond that. No matter which path he chose, though, Severus instantly made himself a promise: unlike Jane, he wanted to be nothing like his father. Instead, he planned to be successful enough not to have to rely on Darius Snape for anything - not his home, his inheritance, or his connections. What's more, Severus vowed that he would someday have the power to make his father suffer for all the years of wrongs between them.

"I don't know exactly," Severus replied, his jaw bent with sudden determination, "but I'm going to be a great wizard someday."

"I know you will be," Jane replied casually, looking out at the way the sun glittered on the pond as she ran her toes through the grass. "I shouldn't even be surprised if you made Order of Merlin one day."

Astounded by the ease with which Jane had stated her confidence in him, Severus faltered, stunned into silence. Aside from his professors at Hogwarts, Severus wasn't used to anyone expressing such enthusiasm for him and his abilities - not anyone in Dolfield, anyway - and he found himself caught quite off-guard by her reassurance.

"You know, Severus, when someone gives you a compliment, it's generally polite to acknowledge it and thank them," Jane teased.

An irritated flush suffused Severus' normally pallid cheeks once more. "I-I didn't suppose you meant it," he stammered for lack of a better response.

"Severus, how many third years do you know who can make Veritaserum? Of course you're going to be great wizard," she said with a dismissive chuckle.

Before Severus had the opportunity to blush further at her continued praise, Jane changed the subject, and they spent the rest of the afternoon staring up at the sky, trying to make sense of the shapes in the clouds overhead. The effects of the events of that afternoon were much longer lasting, however, than the amount of time during which they took place. Indeed, Severus Snape never looked at Jane Swizzle the same way again. She'd always been there: the girl next door who perpetually had her nose in a book, was a bit bossy, and had a tendency to bat her eyes too much when she was nervous - the girl next door with whom he'd go swimming in the pond, search the night sky for constellations, and make Potions in class.

But despite Jane's constant, unwavering presence in his life, Severus had never really noticed her before. He'd never truly appreciated the way the sun glinted off her wavy, black hair or the way her skin always smelled of lavender and soap or the way she crinkled her nose when she was thinking. He never truly appreciated the way she never forced herself into his affections or the way she always knew that when he'd snarl at her, he never really meant it.

Until right now.

* * *

Much to Severus' dismay, the fact that he never looked at Jane Swizzle quite the same way again following that summer afternoon by the pond proved weighty in the coming months.

"You just like her bubbies," Evan Rosier teased him one night in the dormitories. It was quite late, and thanks to Ian Wilkes' perpetual snoring, neither one of the boys had managed to fall asleep yet.

"I hadn't noticed them," Severus grumbled. It was a lie, of course - a blatant one, but being that he considered himself superior to the crudeness of carnal lust, he was loath to admit it.

"Like hell you haven't," Rosier scoffed, tossing his blonde head back in disbelief.

"You know, if you weren't such a dunderhead," Severus continued to protest through gritted teeth, "you'd realise there are other qualities that make a girl attractive beside her breasts."

"None that matter, mate," Rosier laughed. Even by the faint candlelight, Severus could see his green eyes flickering mischievously.

The hook-nosed boy sighed with annoyance and cast his friend a glare. It was no use protesting Rosier's authority on the qualities that made the softer sex attractive: he had, after all, had considerable more experience in this realm than anyone in their circle of friends, and he never missed an opportunity to remind them of this fact. Severus didn't know how much of his friend's boasting was true, but he did know for a fact that just last week, that nosey Bertha Jorkins had caught Rosier snogging Florence Feather by the greenhouses after Herbology. Evan had retaliated by hexing the intruder, and she - ever the insufferable cow - had tattled to the headmaster. There had been five points from Slytherin and detention to be served, but Rosier had felt quite as though this was a small price to pay for the pleasures of that afternoon.

In retrospect, Severus realised that he should have known better than to expect that Rosier would understand that his fascination with Jane was related to anything besides - as the latter had stated so crudely - bubbies. Save Rodolphus, neither Rosier nor any of their other mutual friends were aware of the horrors that plagued Severus' home life. Consequentially, they couldn't begin to comprehend how significant Jane's small but extraordinary kindnesses were when juxtaposed to Darius' cruelty; they couldn't begin to comprehend that Jane's bubbies were the least of her alluring assets.

* * *

Just because Severus' appreciation for Jane Swizzle had increased exponentially due to recent unfortunate circumstances did not, however, mean that she received preferential treatment from him. In fact, quite the opposite took place. Evidence of such arrived one afternoon as Severus was toiling with Jane over a Wit-Sharpening Potion. Professor Cauderon had, of course, heard of the previous year's Veritaserum incident, and Severus had the distinct impression that although he was loath to admit it, the Potions Master was quite impressed with the talent of the sallow boy with a propensity for mischief. Consequentially, Cauderon saw fit to pair Severus with the only other student in the class who displayed parallel promise: the very same Jane Swizzle who was coming to occupy increasing amounts of Severus' thoughts.

Unfortunately, despite their combined talents, it rapidly became clear that their Wit-Sharpening Potion had gone awry. It was too viscous and emitted a foul scent vaguely reminiscent of bubotuber pus. Considering his determination to be the top Potions student, Severus was quite disgruntled by such abnormalities. As such, he hardly attempted to conceal his annoyance.

"Obviously you added too much ground scarab beetle, you dolt!" Severus snarled, staring at the potion in the cauldron skeptically.

Jane put her hands on her hips. "No, Severus," she replied authoritatively but calmly. "If the potion isn't the right consistency, it's because you didn't add enough armadillo bile."

Severus froze and stared at the potion. His brows creased in a combination of disbelief and displeasure, and a flush suddenly filled his cheeks as it occurred to him that she was right: only the armadillo bile could have caused the potion to coagulate the way it had. Jane didn't wait for his response but sighed and reached for the flask at their side. Severus watched as she poured another measure of the liquid into the potion and stirred the contents of the cauldron counterclockwise to incorporate the new ingredient. Much to Severus' continued horror and embarrassment, the Wit-Sharpening Potion immediately became more fluid - the consistency it should have been to begin with - and the faint whiff like petrol subsided.

"No harm done, Severus," Jane told him. As she put the stopper back into the vial of armadillo bile, though, she could not help but smile slightly with amusement at his ensuing bewilderment. "See, it's gone right again."

Severus only scowled at the potion, which was simmering happily now, in a perturbed silence. His silence was broken, however, by the sudden input of Sirius Black, who hovered over his cauldron with Peter Pettigrew at the table beside him. The two had abandoned their equally forlorn-looking potion in favor of witnessing the exchange between Severus and Jane. Sirius' raised eyebrows indicated his obvious displeasure with what had transpired, and Severus felt rage course through his veins when he opened his mouth to criticise.

"Apologise to Jane for being such a git, Snivelly!" Sirius snapped.

Much like Evan Rosier, Sirius Black had, it seemed, recently discovered the allure of the feminine. He seemed well aware of the affect his good looks and dashing demeanor seemed to have on the female population of the school. Even if he had been a complete dunderhead, it would have been difficult not to notice how even the most beautiful and popular of girls was transformed into a blithering, love-struck fool the moment Sirius glanced their way or said hello to them. Sirius seemed to revel in such attention, and in order to ensure that he continued to receive it, he had become somewhat of a self-proclaimed champion for any and all of Hogwarts' young damsels in distress. He'd carry their books, clean their cauldrons, and help with homework. Defending Jane to Severus, the latter assumed, was the Gryffindor's latest act of chivalry performed in his unending quest to ingratiate himself to a girl.

Naturally, Severus deeply resented Sirius' interference, and he immediately determined to tell self-righteous adversary so. In truth, he couldn't remember having apologised for anything in years, and the mere suggestion that he should seemed rather scandalous to him - especially considering that said suggestion should be coming from Sirius Black. As Severus had never been known for being particularly tolerant, the notion of taking orders from Sirius was something he simply refused to accept.

"What do you care how I talk to Jane?" Severus retorted.

At that, Sirius bared his teeth very much like the dog Severus was quite convinced he was, and he abandoned his cauldron to instead take up the wand at his side. Aiming squarely at the triangle of pale skin between the Slytherin's dark eyes, he immediately thrust said wand threateningly towards Severus' face.

"Apologise or I'll make you, Snivellus!" he hissed.

Severus was about to open his mouth with a scathing reply when Jane, seeing the fury that filled the hook-nosed boy's eyes, intervened. "Thank you for your concern, Sirius, but there's no apology needed," she said calmly, with a shrug of nonchalance.

Sirius glowered. Why Jane felt the need to defend Severus Snape was beyond him, and he did not appreciate being dismissed when he was certain he was right.

"Jane, I am not going to let this greaseball talk to you like that!" he protested. "It's not your fault Snivelly couldn't read the directions properly - that huge nose of his probably got in the way," he added with a smirk.

Peter Pettigrew chortled at this, and although the stocky boy was not normally so brazen as to tempt Severus' wrath, he felt quite confident with Sirius at his side, and so he saw fit to chime in. "Better watch out, Sirius, or Snape'll get you with another one of his famous hexes," he warned sarcastically.

Indeed, a hex was precisely how Severus was planning to retaliate. His normally pale face flushed a particularly garish shade of red, and his black eyes flamed malice. He trembled with indignation as he promptly withdrew his wand and waved it at Sirius Black. At once, the two boys were intense, shoulders square and wands raised menacingly, each daring the other to be the first to cast a hex.

"Severus, don't - you're above this petty nonsense," Jane begged him in an urgent whisper.

Fortunately, Professor Cauderon entered the scene before Severus had a chance to prove Jane's assessment of his character wrong. The Potions Master, who had been moving through the room surveying the progress of his students, halted by their workstations. Abruptly, Sirius and Severus lowered their wands and thrust them back into the confines of their robes. There was hardly any point to pretending they hadn't just been prepared to jinx one another to Hogsmeade and back, though, as half the class - and most like Cauderon himself - had undoubtedly seen.

"Everything all right here?" the Potions Master asked in his authoritative fashion, raising a suspicious eyebrow at the overt tension lingering in the air between Severus and Sirius.

Under Cauderon's knowing gaze, there was an awkward silence and an exchange of uncomfortable glances. As the anxiety-filled seconds passed, it became increasingly apparent that both Severus and Sirius were loath to justify their actions, and so it was Jane who spoke in their stead.

"Everything's perfectly wonderful, sir, thank you," she said suddenly, looking up at her favourite professor with what she hoped was an earnest smile. "We were merely discussing the proportions of armadillo bile."

Professor Cauderon raised his eyebrows doubtfully, clearly unconvinced of Jane's statement. His reservations were validated by the fact that Severus was still virtually twitching with an insatiable need to reach across the table and wrap his fingers around Sirius Black's throat.

Detecting the Potions Master's misgivings, Jane cleared her throat and resolved to try again. She'd had enough of the rivalry between Sirius and Severus. All it resulted in was senseless loss of house points and trips to the infirmary. "It was a rather... er... spirited discussion," she added hopefully.

The Potions Master lingered a moment over the scene, but he said nothing more of the matter as the students grudgingly returned to their respective cauldrons. Still seething, Severus commenced slicing his ginger root angrily, maneuvering his scalpel with increasing violence, imagining that the stalk was Sirius Black's neck or - better yet - another similarly-shaped integral piece of his anatomy.

* * *

"You're jealous," Rodolphus Lestrange informed him with a smirk as they headed from class that afternoon.

"Jealous? Jealous of what?" Severus spat as he shifted his books in his arms.

"You're jealous of Sirius Black," the sandy-haired boy replied smugly, quite convinced that he had unlocked his cousin's innermost secret.

"And why in Merlin's name would I be jealous of that idiot?!" Severus demanded, his eyes glinting furiously.

Rodolphus' answer was smug and simple, brief yet unexpectedly profound. "Because the girls all fancy him, and you're worried Jane will too," he said matter-of-factly.

"Jealous of Black?!" Severus sputtered furiously. He looked positively murderous, and if he hadn't been carrying books, it was very likely that Rodolphus would have promptly found himself the brunt of a rather unpleasant hex or two. Instead, Severus would have to be content to merely say as much. "If you ever imply I'm jealous of Sirius Black again, I'll hex your bollocks off!"

Prudently, Rodolphus changed the subject then - commented on how Remus Lupin was once again absent from class, as they had noticed he was prone to do - and for this, Severus was quite grateful.

Indeed, the hook-nosed boy knew it did no good to be jealous of Sirius Black, as he was well aware that his unkempt hair and beak-like nose were no competition for the Gryffindor's sleek, long hair, muscular build, and handsomely dark features. Even if he could compete with Sirius in that sense, Severus wasn't entirely sure he'd want to: he was, after all, too practical for love - too unwilling to humiliate himself in the unrequited declaration of his affections as Sirius Black or James Potter were apparently so inclined to do.

However, as the weeks crept on, Severus' animosity towards Sirius Black only heightened, and whether he knew it or not, it was becoming increasingly obvious that perhaps Rodolphus was right: Severus bristled the moment a certain haughty Gryffindor paid Jane Swizzle the slightest attention, and he had to resist the urge to hex his enemy's extremities on more than one occasion.

Severus, don't - you're above this petty nonsense, Jane had entreated that fateful afternoon in Potions class.

Severus wondered how disappointed Jane would be when she realised that contrary to her beliefs, he was not, in fact, above such "petty nonsense." In actuality, he was quite motivated by it.

And it was only a matter of time before Jane Swizzle would discover this truth.

* * * * *