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 8: The Aftermath of O.W.L.s

* * * * *

It was fortunate for Severus Snape that he enjoyed his studies. After all, thanks to his pending Ordinary Wizarding Level examinations, he had time to do very little else that year. He wasn't alone, of course. The frenzy associated with preparing for O.W.L.s afflicted countless fifth year students across the four houses of Hogwarts. No one was immune to the panic - least of all the Ravenclaws, who, despite their innate scholarly nature, seemed the most intent in their academic pursuits.

Of course, some handled the burden of O.W.L.s less gracefully than others. Morgana Crosby, for example, had a nervous breakdown near Christmastime, and Ian Wilkes had to be sent to the infirmary for having taken too much Baruffio's Brain Elixer. Severus, however, merely spent most of his waking hours in the stacks of the library. The pressure he ordinarily placed on himself to excel was compounded by the fact that Darius Snape had made it perfectly clear that he would accept nothing less than the best from his son when it came to his Ordinary Wizarding Level examinations.

"That's simply unacceptable, Severus!" Darius had raged at him over Easter holidays. "Nowhere near good enough!"

Severus lowered his wand and stepped back to survey his work. Before him, Zoe stood trembling in pain from the Bruising Curse that Darius was teaching him to perform. Dark patches were starting to form on the pale skin of her arms. Zoe gasped when she saw them, and her too-wide eyes brimmed with tears. Nonetheless she resisted the urge to cry out against her masters' torment.

"How do you expect to do well on your O.W.L.s when you can't even perform a simple curse like this?!" Darius continued, his dark eyes glinting maliciously.

Severus highly doubted the Wizarding Examinations Authority would be testing him on how to perform Dark magic such as this. After all, the point of his studies was to learn defense against Dark arts, not Dark arts themselves. However, as his father proceeded with his lecture, Severus did not have the opportunity to tell him this.

"Curses are no good if the emotion behind them is empty," Darius told him. "You have to mean it - you have to want to cause harm."

Looking at Zoe's bedraggled form, Severus had a hard time imagining how he could possibly want to cause the house-elf true harm. She was too mournful a creature, and she had done nothing to merit his wrath. Darius, however, seemed intent to prove Severus wrong. The older Snape promptly raised his own wand to Zoe. The house-elf backed away nervously, wringing her hands in fretful anticipation of Darius' curse. Time had taught her to fear Darius' punishments beyond all else, and she braced herself in preparation for it.

"Contunderus!" Darius hissed.

As the bolt of light catapulted towards her, Zoe shrieked and collapsed to the floor. She panted and moaned as fresh bruises surfaced on her arms, then her legs, then her face. There was one over her eye, as though she'd just been punched, and blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. If it wasn't for the heaving of her chest as she whimpered from the ache consuming her tiny body, Severus would have wondered if Zoe was even alive.

Then, grinning in cruel admiration of his own handiwork, Darius turned to his son. "That's how it's done, Severus," he said. His voice was calm and cold and oddly even, each syllable pronounced with dangerous precision. "Now raise your wand and do it again until you get it right. No son of mine will be anything less than brilliant."

"Then maybe I don't want to be your son," Severus muttered under his breath as he rolled back the sleeves of his robes in preparation for what promised to be a long night of practising hexes.

As to be expected, Darius promptly made him suffer for such a comment, turning his wand on Severus rather than Zoe to illustrate the power of the Bruising Curse. In turn, an indignant Severus pondered intentionally failing his O.W.L.s just to spite his father. It was, after all, the only means of revenge he had against Darius. In the end, though, such a resolve proved futile. Severus found himself a creature of habit; he was too self-motivated to neglect his studies and only found himself doubling his efforts instead.

Looking back, Severus supposed the hours of study had paid off. He had devoted particular attention to Charms and Transfiguration, and although he'd never been overly fond of wand-waving, he thought he'd managed to do well nonetheless. Meanwhile, Arithmancy, Herbology, and Ancient Runes were unqualified successes. Defense Against the Dark Arts proved similar. Severus had even quite nearly laughed out loud when he'd seen the simplicity of the questions that comprised this exam - essays like "describe the best manner by which to defend oneself against the Imperius curse" and "discuss five identifying signs of the werewolf." He could have answered such questions practically before even coming to Hogwarts, and he had still been enthusiastically scribbling answers on his parchment when the proctor, Professor Flitwick, announced for them to lower their quills and remain seated while he collected their completed exams. Reluctantly, Severus had surrendered his parchment. Although his fingers still itched with the insatiable need to write more, he was satisfied that he had achieved a near - if not entirely - perfect score.

* * *

Of course, the ease of his Defense Against the Dark Arts exam was of little comfort to Severus now. The glory of the afternoon was shattered by the fact that shortly after he'd stepped into the courtyard, James Potter and Sirius Black had disarmed him and subjected him to a series of jinxes and humiliations. It had begun with the Impediment Curse; a flash later found him dangling upside down in midair, robes drooping down to his chin rather than his ankles; next was a body bind, and - thanks largely to the interference of that obnoxious Mudblood Lily Evans - he was now dangling upside down once more.

It was utterly degrading, a mortification worse than anything Severus could recall having previously experienced. Not even Darius Snape's punishments left him feeling so violated, and all the while, Severus was defenseless, left with little recourse but to spout rage and swears and hexes he lacked the wand to actualize. If he were completely honest with himself, Severus would have been able to admit that he deserved this - that he'd seen such trouble coming his way. Since the Veritaserum incident two springs ago, he and James Potter seemed to have entered into a silent showdown, a competition to see who could publicly humiliate the other more. However, just because Severus expected such torment did not mean he was willing to stoically accept it. Instead, fury filled him as he struggled futilely against gravity in an attempt to right his robes.

"Who wants to see me take off Snivelly's pants?" James hissed.

At James' suggestion, a cheer of encouragement rose from the crowd surrounding them, and as the spectacled boy aimed his wand in promise to make good on his threat, Severus panicked. He hastily abandoned his mission of righting his robes in favor of grasping the waistband of his underpants instead. As Lily Evans had pointed out, his knickers were old and frayed and grey, and a rosy hue suffused Severus' cheeks at their exposure. The wealth of the Snape family may not have been in league with the likes of the Malfoys, but there certainly were more than enough Galleons in Gringotts for knickers. Darius Snape, however, was decidedly not father of the year and chose to squander his money on Dark artifacts and political causes rather than buy his son new clothes. Not even Zoe's meager abilities with the laundry could conserve the pairs Severus had somehow managed to obtain. Nonetheless, Severus clutched desperately at the threadbare fabric, at the symbol of his father's negligence and his house-elf's uselessness, and he hoped against the odds that he possessed strength enough to impede James' attempts to remove his underpants.

"Awwwww, look at how shy Snivelly is," Sirius snickered.

There was a flash of light then, and the bystanders squealed with joy as, despite Severus' attempt at self-preservation, the knickers lurched upwards a bit, away from his navel and down his hips. James, clearly feeling immensely proud of himself for the entertainment he was so aptly providing, flicked his wand again. Approving laughter rippled through the air as Severus' underpants slid a bit further down his hips. The hook-nosed boy cried out incoherently, trying ardently to tug his knickers back down, but it was a losing battle: James' spell was too strong, and it was clear that he was determined to make a show of this, that he was going to drag each moment out in order to torment Severus as much as possible.

"You know, Snivellus, I'm a reasonable person," James told him, his eyes glinting mischievously. "I'm open to negotiation. You just say the word."

Greatly affronted by such a proposition, Severus growled a string of unintelligible but decidedly foul expletives. He'd never hear the end of this in the Slytherin dormitories tonight, and surrendering to a Gryffindor - to James Potter at that - would only make things worse for him.

"Have it your way, then," James replied with a sneer. He waved his wand again, and at once, Severus' knickers were precariously close to failing in their primary function to clothe him.

Severus gasped as it occurred to him that with another flick of James' wand, the inevitable would occur. He would be exposed before half of the school, and he let out a low, horrible howl of anguish at the idea of undergoing such an attack. "Let me down!" he barked suddenly, unable to tolerate such torment any longer. The words escaped his lips before he was conscious of them doing so, and even he wasn't quite sure whether he was begging or demanding his release.

"What was that, Snivelly?" James asked, although Severus was quite sure he had heard him perfectly well and was merely gloating at Severus' surrender. "I didn't quite hear you."

"Let me down!" Severus panted, still struggling with his knickers. "Let - me - bloody - down!"

Even upside down, Severus could see the corners of James' lips turn to form a haughty grin. "All you had to do was ask," he chuckled as he lowered his wand.

With a dull thump and a groan of pain, Severus fell facedown to the ground below. Before he had time to even raise his head, though, James and Sirius had advanced on him, and he found himself eye-to-eye with their boots.

"I don't think he asked nicely enough, James," Sirius said, regarding Severus like he was some foul object or diseased creature. "Do you?"

"Not nearly," James replied, playing into Sirius' cruel game. "After all, he didn't say please."

Sirius grinned slowly and deliberately. "I think we need to teach him some manners, then, don't you, mate?"

"Couldn't agree more, Sirius," James concurred with a knowing snicker. He pointed his wand menacingly at Severus once again. "Say 'please,' Snivelly," he ordered.

Severus glowered, his hatred for the two boys before him burning in his black eyes. He could think of plenty of things he'd like to say to James Potter and Sirius Black, and oddly enough, none of them involved use of the world "please."

"Go to Hades!" he snarled as he struggled to get to his feet.

Before he had even the chance to prop himself up on his elbows, however, Sirius had reached down to wrap a hand around the back of Severus' neck and pinned him back to the ground. The next moment, he was forcing Severus' head downward, grinding his face relentlessly in the grass and dirt.

"Say 'please,' Snivellus!" he insisted, laughing cruelly.

Severus squirmed and coughed and tried to expel the dirt from his mouth, but he succeeded only in making a muddy mess that dribbled down his chin and smeared across his cheek. "Sod - off!" he gasped.

"Poor Snivelly," Sirius continued with feigned sympathy. "His mother never got the chance to teach him manners."

Chuckles reverberated throughout the crowd, and listening to such laughter at his expense and his mother's, Severus was incensed anew. There was strength in such anger, and he twisted and turned ferociously under Sirius' weight in rebellion. The blood in Severus' veins pumped fiercely, and shouts of excitement from the bystanders rang in his ears. Little other thought occupied his mind, except to punch and kick and slap and bite any part of Sirius Black that he could. He had resorted to the most base form of retaliation possible: fist fighting like a common Muggle. Darius Snape would be so disappointed, but given that his wand was still several feet away from his grasp, Severus saw few other options.

"Get him, Sirius!" a bystander shouted over the fray.

Severus thrashed all the harder at that, and despite the fact that his scrawny frame made him a clear underdog, he actually managed to land one good blow to Sirius' left cheek. Startled, Sirius let go and stumbled back. He got quickly to his feet, bringing a hand to his face to check for any harbingers of permanent deformity. Hecate forbid his aristocratic good looks should be jeopardized. Finding no lasting damage, he turned an icy glare to the boy still panting on the ground below.

"You are mental, Snivellus!" Sirius barked at him. A stunned silence fell across the courtyard as he turned abruptly and stalked away, still massaging his sore jaw bone. It was clear that the spectacle of the afternoon was over.

Pondering a means of retribution, Severus stared after his tormentors a moment, but it was clear that the moment for vengeance had passed. Instead, he scrambled to his feet and, trying to salvage the fragile remains of his dignity, began to collect his fallen books and wand. He was faintly aware of the bystanders dispersing, but he still felt their gazes lingering on him. Indignantly, Severus wiped his filthy face on the cuff of his robes, leaving a trail of dirt, blood, and snot in his wake.

"Mind your own sodding business!" he snarled at them.

Muddied, bloodied, and utterly humiliated, Severus trudged back up to the castle to clean himself up.

* * *

Severus' last O.W.L., Potions, was tomorrow. Professor Cauderon had told him he'd expected great things from him, and Severus was eager not to disappoint. However, gossip about how James Potter and Sirius Black had made a fool of him that afternoon had spread through Slytherin like the plague, and considering the relentless snickering and glares he received from his housemates, Severus found it quite impossible to concentrate on his studies in the common room. Only Evan Rosier, who had been in his Divination exam at the time of the incident, offered Severus his condolences.

"Rotten luck, mate," Rosier had told him.

Severus was stunned by his friend's uncharacteristic sympathy until the sandy-haired wizard opened his mouth once more to continue.

"Wish I'd seen Potter try to take off your knickers, though," Rosier promptly added with a laugh. "That must've been bloody hysterical! Where's a Time-Turner when you need one?!"

Indeed, it seemed that if Severus was going to get an Outstanding O.W.L. in Potions tomorrow, he'd have to find an alternative place to study. Grudgingly, he picked up his books and notebooks and retreated to the Hogwarts library. After situating himself at a table overlooking the lake, Severus sighed with relief into the silence. He'd have preferred to study in complete isolation, of course, but he could not deny that there was something comforting about the musty smell of the books and the quietude proffered by the stacks, and so Severus began to study.

Just as he was glancing up to reach for his notes on the properties of the moonstone, Severus noticed Jane Swizzle enter the library. He should have known she'd be here - she was always here; being among the smartest girls in school required such academic devotion, after all. Under other circumstances, he might have been quite glad to see her. However, as he was still most embarrassed about the events of the afternoon and felt fairly certain that by now Jane had heard of them, Severus sank down in his seat as she walked past instead, hoping in vain that she wouldn't see him.

Being that she did not possess the social ineptitude that Severus did, Jane could often be spotted in the company of members of all four of the Hogwarts houses: Sometimes she was with Penelope Prewett, her cousin in Hufflepuff; other times with Alice Gordon of Gryffindor; and still other times, she could be seen chatting along just as brightly with Florence Feather from Slytherin. Such was the case this evening.

"Did you hear about the latest raid on that Muggle neighborhood in Wiltshire?" Severus heard Jane asking her companions as they settled themselves at a nearby table. "It was horrible! The same symbol could be seen in the air above the houses - a skull with a snake."

"I can't believe they haven't been able to stop the group responsible for all these attacks yet," Alice added. "Even the Muggle police are involved, I think."

"My father says he's surprised there haven't been strikes against Hogwarts yet," Florence told them authoritatively. "He'll insist that the school should be closed, of course. He has quite a way with the Board of Governors, after all."

"Well, I suspect we're safe here," Penelope chirped in her small voice.

Severus scowled into his potions text at Penelope Prewett's words. With the likes of James Potter and Sirius Black on the loose, he hardly considered himself safe within the cocoon of Hogwarts. Nonetheless, it was easy to forget the troubles of the outside world here - the fact that across the country, scenes of violence against Muggles and Mudbloods had increased at a startling rate. Indeed, something Dark was transpiring beyond the shelter of the castle, and although he was reluctant to admit it, Severus was highly suspicious that the mark that reportedly lingered at the scene of most of the protests and uprisings was somehow connected to the symbol he had noticed some time ago on his father's left forearm.

Safe from the outside world or not, it was at that exact moment that his presence in the library was noticed.

"Look, there's Snivellus," mocked Florence in hushed tones. "I wonder if he's changed his knickers yet."

Muffled giggling followed, and although Severus pretended not to have heard the girls' snickering, his normally pale cheeks flushed. He sunk further down in his seat, burying his face so deeply in his copy of Popular Potions for the Practical that he could scarcely read it. Of course, if Severus hadn't been intently trying to ignore the girls, he would have seen that one among them was not laughing at him. Instead, a scowl crossed Jane Swizzle's otherwise pleasant face.

"Someday I hope I'm as perfect as you are, Florence, so that I can make fun of people, too," she said coldly.

"Jane, you can't be serious," Florence scoffed, clucking her tongue in dismay.

Contrary to Florence Feather's assessment, though, Jane was indeed serious. Despite the scoffing and glares that followed her, she crossed over to Severus' table then, and much to their collective surprise, she placed her burden of books at the seat across from him and sat down. Rather presumptuous of her, Severus thought, but at the same time, he had to admit he admired her boldness: Not many would be willing to be seen in his company right now.

"Shouldn't you be sitting with your idiot friends?" Severus asked her grimly, motioning to the girls she'd come in with. They had migrated to the Arithmancy stacks now and were still furtively glancing in Severus' direction and giggling.

"You are my friend, Severus," Jane replied simply. Unaffected by his sour disposition, she unrolled her parchment without budging. "Besides, I thought we could confer on our work for Potions. You are studying for tomorrow's O.W.L., aren't you?"

He only frowned and turned back to his work. "I suppose you'll be expecting some expression of my gratitude now," said Severus coolly.

Jane's brow crinkled with bewilderment. "Gratitude? For what?" she asked.

Rolling his eyes with disgust, Severus nodded his head in the direction of the Arithmancy section. Feminine murmurings could still be heard therein.

"Oh... them," she whispered, following his gaze. She leaned across the table towards him as though about to divulge a secret of utmost importance. "Between you and me, Florence has always been a bit of a cow. She's had that coming for ages." Jane sat back once more then and dipped her quill in the ink well. Within moments, she was scratching studiously away on her parchment as though nothing had happened.

Severus watched her a moment as she worked, stunned and impressed by her nonchalance, before returning to his own parchment. They sat together for quite some time, both taking notes on potions with avid interest and pausing only to ask one another brief questions related to academics. Although he was wary to admit it, Severus appreciated that Jane was studying with him; he appreciated that she had defended him to her friends, and he appreciated that she had the decency not to discuss it with him.

It was quite late when Madam Pince made to shoo them out of the library. Severus offered to walk Jane back to the Ravenclaw common room: It was his tacit way of thanking her, as he was too proud to say the actual words. Realising this was quite a magnanimous gesture for the likes of Severus Snape, Jane accepted his offer with her trademark warm smile, a grin which conveyed that she understood his unspoken gratitude.

"Good luck on Potions tomorrow, Severus," she said when they reached the Ravenclaw corridor. "Although I'm sure you don't need it."

* * *

As it so happened, Severus didn't need Jane's wishes for good luck on his Potions O.W.L. He was hardly surprised when his scores arrived one particularly stifling July afternoon. Outstanding: that was his Potions mark. It was his score in everything, actually - even Transfiguration and Charms, the subjects he'd detested the most when he'd first started at Hogwarts. Severus had the entire summer to feel quite pleased with himself for scoring so well. His delight in receiving top marks was the only thing that made being in the same house as Darius Snape bearable, and consequentially, he thought about them frequently.

And the more he thought about his O.W.L. scores, the more Severus Snape thought about Jane Swizzle and how, despite the fateful events following his Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L., she had not shunned him. He thought about Jane Swizzle all summer, in fact, and in so doing, Severus realised that there wasn't much about her that he didn't like. But it wasn't just her wide brown eyes or the way her round, pink face looked illuminated over the wispy fumes of her cauldron that intrigued him. It was the way she didn't prattle on about inane things - things like the current hit on the Wizarding Wireless Network or the latest robes fashions - like other girls did. Instead, she talked about relevant things, about things that mattered - things like politics and academics. It was also the gentle way she said his name and the confidence in her stride. And it was especially the fact that Jane Swizzle was among the smartest girls at Hogwarts and one of the few students whose Potions marks rivaled his own.

Bloody hell, I fancy her, Severus thought with disdain.

It was an unpleasant epiphany for Severus, as he had neither the time nor the energy to fancy anyone. He had N.E.W.T.s year after next and an apprenticeship to seek. His courses would be more challenging than ever and he had to devote every moment of his spare time to study - becoming the greatest Potions master of the age would be hard work, after all. Indeed, he didn't particularly want to feel kindly towards Jane, but - much to his frustration - he found he simply couldn't help it.

Nor could Severus help but get a funny twinge below his waist when he thought about Jane Swizzle. Every time he closed his eyes and envisioned her face, that familiar sensation between his legs instantly reappeared, and he'd have no choice but to slip his hand inside the confines of his robes to indulge his excitement. Severus found it to be quite a nuisance, really, that his body refused to behave itself. But it was a welcome nuisance nonetheless.

* * * * *