Harry Potter 1. Chapter 1

Title: Blue October, Volume Two – Chapter One.

Author: Woodland Goddess.

Rated: M

Disclaimers: Publically recognisable characters and settings don't belong to me; I'm just playing in JK Rowling's sandbox. Any original characters that may or may not be used throughout this fic are mine, however.

Summary: Severus Snape walks the edge of a blade, the bridge between love and hate, between laughter and suffering. His life is, like most things, a tale of secrets and deceit, of promises fulfilled and broken, of hard choices and mistakes with disastrous results. This is Part Two of the story of Severus Snape, a soul at war with itself.

Warnings: Violence, Language, Bullying, Self-Harm, Character Death (multiple), Murder, FEELS, Nudity (possibly), Racism, Terrorism, Torture, Animal Cruelty, Homophobia. **The fic is clearly not a goblet of pumpkin juice. Severus will see and do some dark stuff. Have fun**.

Also note that 95% of first names and surnames used in this chapter come from Canon (found the names on the Wizard Cards); I just paired the first and surnames differently.

Chapter One: Dine With Destiny

Some people thought there were words to describe everything one could think and feel, but on the first of September, Severus learned something quite different. There were _no_ words, in _any_ language, to describe the feelings that erupted within him when the double doors opened, revealing the bright, welcoming interior of the Great Hall. All he knew was the surge of something soft and warm and wholesome and _wonderful_ in his chest, making his heart skip beats and stammer against his ribcage. His hands, burying into the fabric of his second-hand robes, had sweaty palms. His breath left him in a rush and came back in so forcefully it threatened to puncture his lungs.

Dark eyes wide with wonder flicked in every direction and took note of everything that lay before him: the candles that hovered above the tables, somehow never burning the students with their melted wax; the blue banners that hung from the ceiling, bearing a bronze eagle; the line of proud men and women at the staff table, where Hagrid – who had guided them across the lake – had taken his place; the way the walls seemed to stretch forever before fading into nothingness, becoming instead the impossible and wondrous night sky. Stars twinkled, small and golden, against the velvet darkness around them. Clouds drifted on a nonexistent breeze, some of them bunched together, others light and swirling on their own.

It was beyond anything he could have imagined.

The daydreams he had had when he was younger...none of it could compare to the vision that lay in front of him, bathed in history and beauty and so much burning potential that it left him feeling...tiny. As if he hardly mattered. Nervous teeth caught his bottom lip, digging in, keeping him grounded to the present.

Long scarlet robes billowed as Professor McGonagall strode down the centre aisle between the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables, leading the stream of first years towards the top of the room.

Some of the Hufflepuffs smiled at him when Severus glanced in their direction. He tore his gaze away quickly, unnerved by the kindness in their eyes, knowing it had to be a trick. People were never nice for the sake of being nice; there was always an agenda, whether they realised it or not. He focused on Professor McGonagall, who came to a stop in front of the staff table. The students flooded the free space in two neat rows of twenty. Severus watched avidly as Professor McGonagall drew up a four-legged stool with a flourish of her wand, which vanished within the folds of her sleeve afterwards.

The woman lifted a pointed hat from the staff table and set it down upon the stool. It was patched, frayed and dirty, reminding Severus of his own clothes; Petunia would never have approved of such a thing, he knew. Perhaps it was a good thing she was not a witch like her sister. She would probably have set it on fire just to get it out of her sight.

Complete silence settled over the Great Hall with a speed that left Severus surprised. The hat twitched suddenly, a tear in the fabric opening, not unlike a mouth.

To Severus' quiet horror, the infernal thing started singing. _I did not sign up for this_, he thought, staring at it like it was something foul. He glanced sideways at Lily, who seemed mystified by the hat. A small smile curled her pale pink lips. Rolling his eyes, he could not help but think she was far too easily entertained. As soon as the hat had finished its song, Professor McGonagall produced a scroll of parchment. "When I call your name," she said clearly, her Scottish accent strong, "you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted."

A thrill of anticipation shot through Severus, then, knowing it was only a matter of time until he would take his rightful place.

"Beamish, Vivian," called Professor McGonagall. Her pale green eyes lifted from the parchment, peering at the students before her. A willowy girl with short brown hair stepped forward immediately, her shoulders back and her head held high. It all went fine until she tripped over the hem of her robes and smacked her head off the stool. A heavy-set woman with curly grey hair half-lunged out of her chair and leaned over the staff table as the Great Hall gasped collectively.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," muttered Professor McGonagall, tutting even as she made to help her up, inspecting her head with calm precision and a seemingly simple spell. "Be careful, you silly girl." Vivian Beamish flushed scarlet as the messy-haired boy from the train – who had butted his unwanted head in to a private conversation purely with the intention of insulting Slytherin House – laughed so hard he had to grip his side. Severus sneered at the horrid boy while Lily threw him a scathing look. The blond boy, from the compartment that Severus and Lily had fled to, elbowed the laughing one sharply in the ribs, eliciting a glare and a muffled expletive.

"Miss Beamish," inquired the heavy-set staff member, whose face held a quiet kindness and concern, "are you alright?"

"I-I'm fine," stammered the girl, keeping her gaze on the floor out of pure mortification. Professor McGonagall nodded in confirmation. The staff member settled back in her chair, still eyeing the girl with continued concern. Vivian Beamish rubbed her forehead gingerly with her hand; Severus knew there would be a monster of a bruise there in the morning. It was nothing compared to the humiliation, of course. After a gentle prodding from Professor McGonagall, she picked up the hat and sat upon the stool, slipping the hat on to her head.

A few moments passed, then, the hat shouted, "RAVENCLAW!"

The sorting continued without incident after that. Out of the first ten students, only one – an oily-haired boy named Falco Borgin – ended up in Slytherin. Arundhati Bharadwaj was the first to be sorted in to Hufflepuff. She was joined by: Edgar Bones – Severus vaguely remembered Mr Ollivander mentioning him in the wand shop the previous year; Greta Catchlove, whom he presumed was related to Athena Catchlove, the nice girl who had helped his mother up from the ground in Diagon Alley; and Reginald Cattermole, a reddish-brown-haired boy who looked remarkably like a ferret.

Sirius Black, the messy-haired boy's companion from the train, was the first to join the Gryffindor table, after what seemed like a war between himself and the hat on his head, during which the boy had scowled angrily. He was joined by: Alice Burke, a round-faced girl with dimpled cheeks and blonde hair to her chin. Vivian Beamish, in Ravenclaw, was joined by Arthur Brown, a fellow who fidgeted incessantly with the sleeves of his robes. The brown-haired boy, Ignatius Dragan, who was close friends with the blond boy from the compartment, was sorted in to Gryffindor, then, and suddenly it was Lily's turn.

Severus' stomach knotted as Lily stepped forward, her legs trembling almost imperceptibly. She sat on the stool, her green eyes seeking out Severus immediately. He caught her gaze with his and gave her a small smile, an attempt to reassure her. The young Wizard knew she was insecure, that she doubted her place at the school, and nothing he had said thus far had alleviated her fears, but that was alright. She would learn, in time, to believe in herself and her own abilities.

The smile Lily answered him with was warm and bright, but carrying hints of her underlying fear, flooding Severus' chest with something akin to affection.

Lily's hands gripped the stool tightly, her knuckles whitening as Professor McGonagall dropped the hat upon her head, the brim of it coming level with her eyebrows. There was no time to wonder how long it would take: barely a second had passed before the hat called out, "GRYFFINDOR."

Everything faded in that moment, the word like a kick to his stomach. A pained groan pushed its way past his constricted throat, muffled and tiny, barely heard. Severus had suspected the outcome, but he had hoped...

Well, he supposed what he had hoped no longer mattered.

Lily jumped up from the stool and tore off the hat. She pressed it into Professor McGonagall's hand as she raced past the group of unsorted first years, heading towards the Gryffindor table on the far right of the room, the Witch glanced back at him. There was a smile on her mouth, tinged with sadness. A hint of pity glittered in the depths of her eyes. His hands curling into fists at his sides at the sight of it, Severus tore his gaze away, his jaw clenching. The roll call continued in an unhurried fashion.

Ravenclaw claimed for its own: Cassandra Fancourt, a brunette who carried with her a certain air and grace that made Severus think of royalty; Marlene McKinnon, a golden-blonde girl with large oval eyes the colour of grass in the morning light; Paracelsus Ollivander, whose pale silver eyes and short curly hair were reminiscent of his father, the wand-maker; and Aarush Patil, whose face made Severus think of an angry owl. Hufflepuff accepted Adalbert Goshawk, a blue-eyed boy who seemed to have gone prematurely grey; Frederic Otherhaus, a soft-faced boy, whose fingers kept twitching, though he tried to hide them in his pockets; Primus Pinkstone, an unremarkable lad with an almost vacant stare; Dilys Shimpling, a heavy-set girl with a mole under her left eye; and Tilly Smethwyck, a smiling girl with purple-tinted glasses sitting on the bridge of her narrow nose.

Gryffindor grabbed up Beatrix Grunnion, a red-haired girl who seemed particularly cold as her hard brown eyes took note of everything before her; Remus Lupin, a tired-looking boy with light brown hair and murky green eyes; Mary MacDonald, bright-eyed and short-haired, who looked as though Christmas had come early. Peter and the horrid boy from the train, James Potter, were both sorted in to Gryffindor as well, the former shuffling over to the latter with a hopeful expression on his face.

Out of that group, Slytherin gained four more students; Gretchen Otherhaus, who, though she was his twin, seemed to be the complete opposite of Frederic, with sharp angles and a level of calmness that radiated from her in thick waves; Perpetua Parkinson, who looked spectacularly like her mother, Drusilla; Barberus Prince, whose dark eyes found Severus immediately, glittering with distaste; and Evan Rosier, a scrawny boy whose ears were ridiculously large and seemed more like jug handles than actual ears – Severus was amused by the mere sight of them and he barely managed to hide his chuckle in a cough.

Severus froze for a suspended moment when Professor McGonagall finally called his name. His insides turned heavy, weighing him down. Uncertain whether he was excited or anxious, he stepped forward and accepted the sorting hat from the Professor's proffered hand. Settling down on the stool, Severus abruptly placed the hat upon his head in an attempt to hide the trembling of his hand. "Well, well, well," purred a soft voice in his ear, "let's have a look, shall we?"

The young wizard had a horrible suspicion that he was about to be dissected by a madman.

"An insatiable thirst to prove yourself worthy, I see; your mother was the same. Your mind certainly isn't lacking, either," murmured the hat contemplatively. "A very good thing, indeed – you'll need your wits about you in the years to come. Loyalty in spades, my goodness; you could give dear Helga a run for her galleons. Oh, ho, ho," laughed the hat, "what's this? A spark of courage, oh, yes." Severus bit his lip when he heard that. On one hand, being sorted in to Gryffindor would bring him closer to Lily, but on the other...Potter would be there, too. "But where to put you?"

Hands gripping the stool tightly, Severus waited for the verdict.

"SLYTHERIN!"

A soft breath escaped him in a rush. Taking the hat from his head and practically tossing it into Professor McGonagall's clutches, Severus hurried to the far left. The Slytherins cheered, not quite as loudly as the Gryffindors had for their new members, but that hardly mattered. The young wizard felt something bloom in his abdomen as his fellows welcomed him to the table. Flicking his dark gaze across the Great Hall, Severus' eyes met Lily's as he took his place among his brethren. In that moment, though he would never be able to explain it, he felt as though he had sold his soul to something outside of his control.

The pat of Lucius' hand against his back brushed the feeling away swiftly. Severus tore his gaze away from Lily and glanced at the elder boy, noting the hint of surprise in grey eyes and the pleased quirk of his mouth. Suspicion niggled at the back of his mind and he shifted away slightly, eyeing Lucius with quiet distrust. The boy noticed and smirked, the expression more amused than anything else. When the next student was called forward, the pair of them focused upon the sorting once more.

There were few students left to be sorted, the blond boy from the compartment among them. When the boy, Victor Vance, was sorted in to Ravenclaw Severus felt a surge of relief. On the train, Vance had been constantly trying to draw Severus and Lily in to a conversation. His persistence had been unbelievably annoying, though Lily had grown comfortable talking to him in no time, while Severus had continued to feel like a stick in the mud, rigid and unmoveable. Vance and Dragan had shot nervous glances at him repeatedly. There was no doubt in his mind that, if Vance had been sorted in to Slytherin, Severus would have found absolutely no peace. He was well-rid of the nuisance.

After the sorting Headmaster Dumbledore rose behind the staff table, the tip of his long white beard brushing the surface of the table. Silence settled over the Great Hall immediately, like a warm blanket. It was clear the student populace held the Headmaster high in their regard. "To our new collection of first years," he said brightly, raising his arms in a manner that encompassed the entire hall, "welcome. To our veteran pupils, welcome back." Blue eyes twinkled behind half-moon glasses as his hands fell, fingertips joining his beard at the table. "I'm sure you're all famished, so I'll keep it concise: enjoy."

With a beatific smile on his face, the man sat back down. The Great Hall erupted in to applause, but the Gryffindors took the cake: some of them had the audacity to stand up as they clapped and whistled and roared. Severus threw a scathing look in their direction, wondering – most certainly not for the last time – if the Gryffindors had a chronic inability to not be a rowdy bunch of wild animals. At least Lily would be able to, potentially, calm them down a little; that was one perk of her sorting, Severus was sure.

"Salad?"

Startled, the young wizard turned to face Evan Rosier, the boy with the ridiculous ears. "No," said Severus, eyebrows knitting together in a wary frown, "thank you."

Wondering if he should be surprised at the appearance of such a feast, Severus reached for the nearest dish – a platter lined with slices of steaming beef. He took one, placing it carefully on his plate, dark eyes flicking threateningly towards the others at the table as though they might attempt to steal it. It was preposterous, of course, but he was unable to shake the feeling that he had to guard his meal with his life – particularly when Barberus Prince looked at him, a dark smile on his young face.

Dark eyes glittered irritably in response and a sneer twisted Severus' mouth. He could understand the detestation of Tobias Snape, but the young wizard had done nothing to deserve Barberus' ire. He supposed he should be thankful that most first years were beginners when it came to producing deliberate spells. It would have been a bad omen to be cursed during his first night's stay at the castle. Fortunately, he and Lily had seen fit to practice; Severus was certain he could take the vitriolic boy, if he had little choice but to do so.

Eating in relative silence, Severus spoke only when directly addressed. Namely, it was Lucius and Evan who spoke to him, gently prodding him with questions. The young wizard's responses were stilted and awkward, unused to speaking to other boys in a situation that held no aggression. Merwyn Wilkes, one of the other boys to be sorted into Slytherin, was almost as quiet as Severus, though he did shoot questioning glances at the others every now and then. In the privacy of his own mind, Severus rather thought the boy looked a bit like a hedgehog.

He consumed his meal slowly, savouring every bite and taking nothing for granted. He had only just finished his main course while others were on their second – and even _third_ – desserts. Sitting there amongst his brethren, it was fortunate he knew nothing of the future that awaited him.

**To Be Continued.**

Yeah, wow, that is a lot of warnings, but YAY Severus is back!

I'm aware the first chapter might be a little...boring...but I couldn't figure out how to fix it.

Feel free to let me know what you think, guys!


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Blue October, Volume Two – Chapter Two.

Author: Woodland Goddess.

Rated: M

Author's Notes: I'm so sorry for the length delay on this. Since December I've been fairly busy, and have been struggling to find time to write and edit my work, but I hope the delay hasn't caused any disinterest. I'm going to try my best to post more regularly in the coming weeks and months. Thank you for your patience. I hope you enjoy this instalment.

Chapter Two: Slytherin Dungeon

Headmaster Dumbledore dismissed the students once the opening feast had come to a close, the chatter dying away slowly as a sense of weariness settled over the Great Hall. Lucius rose elegantly from the bench at Severus' side, his platinum-blond hair shining in the flickering candlelight. Dark eyes watched discreetly, wonderingly, as the boy came to stand near Athena Catchlove, the girl who had helped Severus' mother up from the ground in Diagon Alley. Her expression tightening fractionally, Athena rose from her bench at the Ravenclaw table, her own waist-length blonde hair swept back in a tidy braid.

The nearby Ravenclaw seventh years fell silent, their shoulders tensing in anticipation as the pair of them stood rigidly in front of each other. Both of them drew themselves to their full height as Athena brought Lucius into quiet conversation. Their Head Boy and Girl badges gleamed upon their breasts. It was clear to all concerned that their civility was forced, but that hardly surprised Severus. As if sensing the weight of his gaze, Athena's silvery eyes flicked in Severus' direction; recognition flashed across her face, a smile curling her mouth.

The boy pulled his gaze away quickly, heat flooding his cheeks at being caught, and allowed his attention to be captured by an approaching figure. A tall and slim girl, perhaps sixteen years old, strode towards the newly sorted Slytherins. Like Lucius, she was platinum-blonde and sharp-featured, but the curve of her jaw was softer. She was quite lovely to look at despite the fact that she was confident to the point of pure arrogance. Her Prefect badge shimmered as she came to a stop nearby, her robes parted slightly to reveal the uniform beneath. "First years will follow me, please." Her cold and clear voice brooked no argument. "Quickly, now."

Severus was the first to rise from the bench, the others scrambling up after him. Blue eyes narrowed sharply, briefly resting upon each new face before she turned quickly and strode away without another word, expecting them to follow. Her free-flowing blonde hair bounced with her motion and it was oddly distracting. Brushing imaginary lint from his second-hand robes, Severus followed after the authoritative girl, whose gait spoke of impeccable breeding. She kept her back straight and her head held high. Her legs seemed impossibly long, judging by the length of her stride.

The gaggle of first years had to jog to keep up with her, throwing dismayed looks at each other as they did so. Severus, however, fought an amused smirk and was thankful for his friendship with Lily, which had given him ample opportunities for exercise as she dragged him around Cokeworth. The Prefect led them through a door quite close to the doors of the Great Hall, the heels of her shoes clicking and clacking sharply against the stone floor. Her black school robes swirled and billowed in her wake, bearing an emerald green hem that glimmered in the torchlight.

The door opened out onto a long corridor, which had several tributary corridors leading off it.

Obsidian eyes flicked in every direction and kept count of the corridors they passed, taking note of important markers. The girl led them down the third corridor on the right, then the fourth on the left, which opened out in to a large vestibule, though it was not quite as large as the Entrance Hall. Opposite the entrance they had used was a narrow archway that opened out onto a gloomy staircase that spiralled downwards. The ceiling of the vestibule was quite high and the room had large windows. Stars gleamed in the distance, bright against the inky sky. A large stone staircase framed by a sturdy wall to prevent students from falling over the edges led upwards to an arched passageway lit by a number of torches. Opposite the staircase stood a large set of wooden doors.

The Prefect paused in front of the staircase and turned to face the first years, who looked around curiously.

"This is the Long Gallery," she announced, her words echoing faintly in the reasonably spacious vestibule, "a term which refers to the central building of Hogwarts Castle. It encompasses all the rooms between the Viaduct Entrance," here, she gestured towards the large set of doors, "and the Bell Towers. Up the staircase you will the find the Tapestry Corridor, which – as the name suggests – houses a large collection of tapestries but, more importantly, also houses the portrait of Google Stump, a noted philosopher and Hufflepuff."

As she uttered the Wizard's name she made a moue of distaste. "The portrait, if you speak the correct password, will provide a shortcut to the first floor. In the coming days, one of the Slytherin Prefects will supply you with the necessary password, which is subject to change throughout the year. I would advise you all to memorise it as swiftly as possible." She tilted her head upward and bared a hint more of her neck. "We Slytherins pride ourselves on our punctuality; if any one of you should cast so much as a single blemish upon our record, we will be...very upset."

Blue eyes gleamed like steel blades.

"Yes, sir," said Evan Rosier, the boy with the ridiculous ears. Severus snorted and Merwyn Wilkes muffled a laugh behind his hand as the Prefect arched one elegant eyebrow, turning her sharp gaze upon Evan. It took several moments for the boy to realise his mistake and when he did he quickly ducked his head, his cheeks flushing scarlet in mortification. "I mean, ma'am," he mumbled, stuffing his long-fingered hands into the pockets of his robes. He shuffled awkwardly from foot to foot.

The Prefect softened almost imperceptibly as she surveyed him. "Narcissa will do, Evan." The boy glanced up, a hesitant and surprised smile curling his mouth. The corner of Narcissa's lips twitched as though she were on the verge of breaking her stoic demeanour. Gesturing towards the Viaduct Entrance, she continued briskly, "these doors will lead you out onto the viaduct, which will take you to the courtyard. From there, finding the Greenhouses will be relatively simple; you should see them in the distance. Any questions?"

Silence answered her.

"Good."

Narcissa turned on her heel and made for the shadowy archway, crossing over the large Hogwarts crest that was embossed upon the stone floor. Severus followed after her swiftly and knew he would not like to cross her; she seemed to be a no nonsense sort. He considered it an admirable quality.

The group descended the narrow spiral staircase. Torches burst into fiery life as they proceeded and extinguished themselves after they had passed. It was a miracle that no one's hair was set ablaze, particularly when it came to the girls.

The staircase opened out onto a long corridor, which fed into another staircase that turned left at a right angle. The corridor itself was wide and lined with sturdy columns. On the left there were a series of doors nestled between the columns; on the right there were alcoves that housed a selection of exquisitely carved statues. Shadows fell across them, seeming to bring their faces to life in the darkness, white eyes watching intently as the students passed them.

"From the spiral stairs, the doors lead thusly: one – Potions Classroom; two – Potions Storeroom; three – Chapel; four – Armoury, which is disused as this point in time, of course."

Severus and Evan exchanged glances, the former curious, the latter nervous. "The weapons are a large part of this school's distinguished history," Narcissa continued as they passed the door to the armoury. "They are antique and still quite dangerous. _No one_ is to enter the armoury without permission or escort. We wouldn't want any accidents." The smirk in her tone was laced with deviousness, as if she had entered the chamber on countless occasions and dared them to try it themselves.

_Well, that's definitely out of the question_, Severus thought wildly. _I don't want to lose a limb on a fool's dare. _They continued to the second staircase, which turned at right angles three times before opening out onto another long corridor. This one, unlike the previous one, was well-lit. The torches burned brightly, casting their flickering light everywhere. Opposite a blank stretch of wall was a portrait. The painting depicted a man with black hair, though grey had begun to seep in around his ears.

"By Jove," exclaimed the portrait in a rich voice, the man within straightening abruptly in his chair. A short and wide glass sat in his hand. The amber liquid swirled almost violently with his brisk movements. "That time of year already? It seems like only yesterday the miscreants had vacated the school." Angular, but bushy eyebrows knitted together in an irritated frown. His moustache and tidy facial hair did not disguise the fact that he was terribly unimpressed. "The school years should start later and end earlier, I say."

"Ah, Professor Viridian," greeted Narcissa, pausing in front of the portrait. She inclined her head politely, a lock of blonde hair falling to brush her pale cheek. "I'd normally agree with you, Sir, but I'd find myself missing your company."

Professor Viridian huffed within his portrait, twin spots of colour flaring across his cheekbones. "Codswallop," he rebuked, straightening his green silk cravat with a large hand. His stiff white shirt almost glowed against the fabric of his black coat, the bronze buttons of which shone brightly. He gesticulated towards her with the hand bearing his glass. "Don't presume I'm unaware of the students' regard for me, Ms Black." Dark eyes – so much like Severus' own that he began to ponder their possible genetic relations – narrowed as Professor Viridian peered out at them.

The heavy gaze rested briefly upon each face before him. His lips thinned infinitesimally, a trace of quiet wonder encroaching the man's eyes. Long legs crossed in an oddly feminine manner, the fabric of his breeches wrinkling slightly. "You, there," said the Professor crisply, gesturing to Severus with his glass. The boy startled, not having expected the man to call him out for the intrigue in his gaze. The other first years turned to look at him in surprise; Barberus Prince was silently infuriated; Evan was curious. "You seem to be thinking fairly hard, lad. May I ask the subject?"

Severus hesitated, dark hair framing his face as he avoided looking directly at the portrait. "The ancestry of my kin, Sir."

"Who are your kin?"

"The Princes, Sir." Glancing upwards, he caught the sharpening of Professor Viridian's gaze as the man sipped his drink.

"_Snapes_," corrected Barberus darkly. "You're no Prince."

"My mother was a Prince," answered Severus indignantly, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He drew himself up to his full height and glared at the other boy.

"Your mother was a blood-traitorous wh –"

"Enough," snapped the Professor in a loud voice, his hand tightening around his glass as he cut through Barberus' harsh insult. Severus' nostrils flared as he clenched his jaw, taking a step towards Barberus with murderous intent. No one had the privilege of insulting Eileen Snape and getting away with it. Professor Viridian coughed, clearing his throat and recapturing the boy's attention. His dark eyes glittered menacingly and when he continued speaking his voice was deadly quiet. "Your petty squabbles and family feuds have no place in these halls."

Elbow balanced on the arm of his chair, Professor Viridian buried his face in his free hand. The man's shoulders slumped wearily and he held his glass at a precarious angle, the amber liquid threatening to spill over at any moment.

"My apologies, Sir," said Narcissa as she inclined her head once more, though the portrait remained unaware of the action. "We'll be on our way forthwith and won't bother you again; I'm certain you have much better things to be dealing with." Eyes like blades glanced at the first years before she turned to face the blank stretch of wall. Her voice cold and clear, Narcissa said, "Aut inveniam viam aut faciam."

As if commanded by the few words of Latin voiced by the Prefect the wall _moved_. Much like the entrance to Diagon Alley, the wall shifted to reveal a hidden interior. "Welcome," she said, smirking, "to the Slytherin Dungeon."

Striding forward purposefully, Narcissa led them through the whole in the wall, down the short passage and out into the expansive Slytherin Common Room. The room had rough stone walls and ceiling, from which were hung large, round lamps on chains, casting an almost ghostly green light.

There was a fire lit in the hearth, its warm glow illuminating the elaborately carved mantelpiece before them and the skin of a bear stretched out across the floor, the flames reflected in its dark, lifeless eyes. Narcissa led them past the fireplace, through the myriad tables and darkly upholstered chairs that looked antique, upper-class and unbelievably comfortable simultaneously. Severus hesitated as he passed the fire, basking for a moment in the heat that fell upon him. His eyes drifted closed at the simple pleasure, the dull throbbing ache that had assailed his left arm ebbing away in the face of it.

Stopping in front of a door, the ebony wood gleaming under a layer of lacquer, Narcissa turned to face the students. Blue eyes gazed at them evenly. "The boys' dormitories and lavatories are through this door and down the stairs to your left; girls, the same on your right. You'll find your belongings have already been brought down." A hint of a smile graced her mouth, then, as she surveyed them. "Breakfast begins at seven in the morning; however, Professor Slughorn, our Head of House, will likely wish to have a few words with all of you beforehand, so I would advise that you get an early night." She snapped her fingers. "Well, hop to it!"

The group divided in two, the boys waiting as the girls moved past Narcissa and pushed open the door. When the boys made to follow after them, Narcissa said quietly, "Barberus, a word, please." The other boys kept their heads down as they hurried past Barberus, whose face paled spectacularly. Severus threw a sidelong glance in his direction as a satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. His cousin met his gaze and glared, mouth twisting in a snarl. Feeling victorious, Severus allowed the door to fall shut behind him, leaving Barberus and the Prefect alone in the Common Room.

He descended the left staircase, noticing that unlike the previous ones, this staircase did not bend or turn in the slightest. It was a straight descent with four doors on either side, each opposing pair situated at a brief stretch of straight stone, before the descending steps began again. They found the correct door quickly enough, for it was marked: _First Year_. It was opposite the lavatory. Falco Borgin, the oily-haired boy, was the first to reach the door, opening it hesitantly, as though he were afraid something might jump out and bite him.

The dormitory, when it was revealed, was long and spacious. There were three beds on one side, two on the other, and each bed had twin sets of bedside lockers burdened with lamps that gave off green light. Their trunks had indeed been brought down; Mordred's empty bird cage sat upon one locker. At the far end of the room, beyond the beds and lockers, were five armoires and one tall bookcase filled with books on various subjects. Facing them was a stretch of reinforced glass built into the walls beyond the armoires. A small school of fish swam past as they watched.

Evan gasped in surprise and then clapped his hands in delight. "Oh, jolly good!"

Chuckling at the boy's easy happiness, Severus slipped past him and stepped fully into the room. Standing there, dark eyes flicking in every direction, he could feel the weight of a thousand years of history pressing on him and it was marvellous. He blinked away the sting in his eyes and looked at the large medieval tapestry that hung on the wall between the two beds. It depicted several things, but at the centre there was a sword embedded in stone. Two men stood by the sword, one grasping it, the other dressed in deep green robes, watching the first man closely.

"Merlin," said the young wizard, breathless, for there before his eyes was one of the most renowned Slytherins in Wizarding history, known even amongst Muggles. Something heavy settled in his chest and sent his heart racing as his lungs constricted painfully. Hands twitching at his sides, barely resisting the urge to touch, Severus felt a smile quirking his mouth. The expression was neither bright nor obvious, but it was true and heartfelt. If Merlin, a Wizard of such limited means, could become one of the greatest Wizards of his age, then, perhaps...

Perhaps there was hope for Severus, too.

"Well, chaps," said Merwyn as he climbed onto the bed that had been selected for him. The reserved boy seemed almost cheerful, his hands caressing the green and black blankets that decorated his bed. "It seems we got the best room in the house."

Severus, whose attention had been pulled from the tapestry, found himself nodding stiffly in agreement. He simply could not wait until morning, when he could go outside and whistle for Mordred, in order to write Mr Evans his first letter of the year. The man was certain to be appreciative of everything Severus elected to tell him.

"I doubt it," said Barberus, who came barrelling through the door, angry and shaken. "Do you _really _think any self-respecting Slytherin would be _proud_ to have that Mudblood lover on their wall?" He threw a nasty glance in Severus' direction.

"If you're referencing what I think you are," snapped Severus, turning to face his cousin fiercely, "I'll ask that you stop right now, if you wish to remain attached to your tongue." Sneering, the boy turned away from Severus without another word, though his hands shook as he started pulling off his robes. Whatever Narcissa had said to him, while the boys had continued down to the dormitories, had clearly left an impression. Wondering what she might have said, Severus began getting ready for bed; he was certain he would need his wits about him in the morning...

**To Be Continued.**

This was a fun chapter to write, I must admit. I'm happy to see Narcissa Black making her debut at last; she will feature quite strongly throughout the second and third volumes as our Severus walks the path toward the rest of his life.

_Aut inveniam viam aut faciam_ means "I shall either find a way or make one," which was recommended to me by a friend that has acted as a soundboard for this trilogy on numerous occasions. I think it has a very Slytherin touch to it, don't you?


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Blue October, Volume Two – Chapter Three.

Author: Woodland Goddess.

Rated: M

Author's Note: Well, this chapter was a long time coming. Ugh, so many things distracted me in the past year. I'm so sorry for neglecting this story for so long, but I'm trying to get back into the swing of working on this.

Chapter Three: Echo

Severus woke with a yell and his hands came to brace themselves against the mattress, preventing himself from falling backwards. His arms trembled minutely as his chest heaved, his heart trying to burst out through his ribcage. A cold sweat drenched his skin and his pyjamas adhered to him. Tangled locks of raven hair framed his face, swaying with every gust of breath that rushed out of him. The greenish light filtering in through the lake-window was a comfort to him. It reminded him where he was and, more importantly, where he was not.

Their beds in various states of disarray, the boys on the other side of the room slept on. That was good; he hardly wished to be monitored after waking from a nightmare, particularly one that featured Tobias. Severus rubbed his face roughly with one hand and kept the other braced against the bed. It made no improvement on his sweatiness, but he felt marginally better for having done so. Shifting, he came to sit of the edge of the bed and pushed his hair out of his face.

The sight of blue eyes peering at him from above a fold of blanket almost sent him toppling off his bed in surprise. One large ear protruded from a head full of dark hair. His voice barely more than a concerned whisper, Evan asked, "Are you alright? That dream didn't sound very nice." Back rigid and face expressionless, Severus ignored this unwanted thread of conversation and hoped the boy would fall back to sleep. Hoped the boy would believe himself to have dreamt their interaction. "It's okay, you know, having bad dreams."

Knuckles whitened as his hands momentarily clenched in the blankets before he forced himself to relax. Severus rose from the bed after a moment and hurriedly walked past Evan's bed. Concerned eyes burned holes between his shoulder blades as he made his way towards his delegated armoire. Like the other boys, he had made sure to put his clothes away before climbing into bed the night before. Evan's concern greatly unnerved him. Generally, people were not _nice_. The very word was a derisive sneer – almost a snarl – in his mind. There was almost always an agenda behind such kindness.

Severus fetched a selection of clothes from his armoire, his mouth thinning at the state of his school uniform. With his shoes clutched in his hand and his clothes hanging from the crook of his elbow, the young wizard strode from the room and crossed to the lavatories. The marble counters and porcelain sinks, tiles and varnished doors gleamed before him, dark and welcoming all the same. The mirrors above the sinks stretched on for several feet before turning around a corner, the rest of the room hidden from view. He had to assume the path led to baths or shower stalls.

His mouth twisting in a sneer at the needless display of luxury, Severus slipped around the corner, his spine rigid with discomfort. Dark eyes flicked around the available space. He took note of the deep bath in one far corner, the line of shower stalls along the opposite wall and a collection of shelves that housed numerous phials of upscale hair products and folded black towels, and provided free space to rest clothes. Setting his clothes aside, he selected a towel so large he was certain he could drown in it.

The shower, Severus learned soon afterwards, only took ten minutes, though it seemed to take forty. The water having scalded him deliciously, his skin was red when he escaped the torrent. The pressure had been wonderful – far better than anything he had experienced back in Cokeworth. Feeling cleaner than he had in months, Severus quickly rubbed himself dry with a towel that could easily fit seven of him in its folds. It was fortunate that he had just finished dressing when a tall fellow came around the corner and almost bumped in to him.

"Watch it," said the boy, presumably a seventh year, considering the noticeable sideburns and scruff. The young wizard made a hasty retreat with his pyjamas tucked under his arm. Evan was sitting on the edge of his bed when Severus returned to the first year dorm, eyeing him speculatively. The other boys were beginning to groggily pull themselves out of bed. Falco Borgin tangled himself in the sheets and fell out of his with a nerve-jangling squeak, almost hitting his head on his bedside locker.

The idiot laughed it off as if it were a commonplace occurrence.

Opting to ignore the others, Severus folded his pyjamas and slid them beneath his pillow. It was strange, being surrounded by these boys when just yesterday he had risen to the sound of his mother's voice, the touch of her hand. Several memories flickered across his mind: the scent of burnt toast from her skirts; the strands that came loose from the chignon she wore when brewing; the morose curl of her mouth; the paranoid flicking of dark eyes. Severus busied himself with finding the location of his comb, resisting the urge to curl his hands into fists. He fetched his satchel as soon as he finished grooming and assured himself that everything he might possibly need that day was nestled inside. Light as a feather and undetectable at first glance, it would have been all too easy to miss something. Finally ready, Severus left the dormitory without a word to the others. Even so, he could feel the weight of Evan's gaze between his shoulder blades.

But his nightmares were none of the boy's business and Severus refused to admit to any weakness in front of the others, knowing his weaknesses would only be exploited.

Such was human nature, after all.

Just as Narcissa had predicted, a man he had to assume was the Head of House stood in the heart of the Common Room. He waited for them. Though he was a heavy-set fellow, he exuded an air of confidence and a certain happiness that left Severus feeling uncomfortable.

"Good morning," greeted Professor Slughorn, his large moustache quivering. Severus managed to offer a strained approximation of a smile in return. His hand tightened around the strap of his satchel as he wandered over to the fireplace, soaking up the warmth from the lingering fire. "You must be Eileen's boy; you look very like her." Curious and hostile all at once, dark eyes flicked in Professor Slughorn's direction. If a single person made one more derogatory comment about his mother, he would...he was not certain what he would do, but he knew it would be malicious in nature and fuelled by his growing anger. "She was one of my best students, you know, very bright and sharp as a blade," the man continued proudly, waddling over to join Severus by the fire. The gold embroidery on his pale green robes shimmered as he moved. "I had high hopes for her, quite high."

Professor Slughorn might have expounded further on the matter had the door to the dormitories not opened, a number of students bustling in to the Common Room. As cheerful as ever, he greeted them all. Soon all the first years had gathered. The elder students flanked Professor Slughorn when the Prefects and Lucius joined them in the Common Room.

The Head of House stood before them and looked at each one intently.

"I hope sleep found you all at a reasonable hour last night: you have a long day ahead of you. Classes will commence after breakfast." An encouraging smile lit up his face. "Now, I must impart a few rules before we part ways, though I'm certain our Mr Malfoy would rather have you all believe them to be mere guidelines."

Chortling, Professor Slughorn cast a sly glance at Lucius, whose back straightened at the reference. A smirk tugged at the seventh year's lips, aristocratic and marginally deferential as he inclined his head towards the man in acknowledgement. Narcissa struggled to keep a genuine smile at bay, her hands clasped behind her back. The other Prefects chuckled.

"Theft and destruction of property are not condoned. The punishment will be severe should I catch any one of you red-handed." Severus, whose idea of punishment was his father's venting of anger, eyed the Professor warily. Surely, such harsh methods would never be condoned at schools? The mere idea caused the length of his body to tense up, hands curling in to fists, spine aching, legs ready for immediate flight. "Duelling in the corridors is forbidden. Leaving the Slytherin Dungeon after curfew is prohibited."

"Is there anything," an irritated Barberus enquired with arms folded across his chest, "we actually _can _do?"

"You can be silent until spoken to directly, and respect your betters," said Lucius, whose tone bypassed cold and submerging into frostbitten. Grey eyes flooded with indignation when Professor Slughorn waved his words away with a dismissive hand as if to say: _now, now, boys will be boys. _The Head Boy's lip curled in disdain and he cast his gaze into the fireplace. Watching him, Severus realised the elder boy preferred it when his opinions were taken in to account. That he welcomed deferential treatment.

When Professor Slughorn revealed that he had collected their timetables from the Headmaster, the Prefects began distributing them while he had a brief word with Lucius in private. Dark eyes watched them discreetly until a schedule was pressed into Severus' hands by Narcissa, who gave him a small smile of recognition. Unwilling to partake of the chatter that bubbled up, Severus slipped out of the Common Room and left the Slytherin Dungeon altogether. Though he could feel the painted man's eyes staring after him, burning holes between his shoulder blades, the portrait of Professor Viridian went unacknowledged.

Once Severus reached the Viaduct Entrance he struggled to pull open the large double doors a fraction and slipped through the gap. Severus inhaled the crisp morning air and let his breath out in a rush several times as he stepped out onto the viaduct. This – the large expanse of hills and grass and countryside that loomed on either side of him – was worth the sharp ache shooting up his left arm in the autumn chill. He moved to the side of the large viaduct. Severus peered down over the edge, hands braced against the rough stone. A vast crag lay below him, sharp and jagged points jutting out of the rock-face. At the base of the crevice a river rushed through, deep and swift and foaming in places. The mere sight of it threatened to steal his breath away. A bubble of something akin to delight rose within his chest and spread out towards his limbs. Bringing his fingers to his lips, Severus let loose a loud and shrill whistle when he straightened, and listened to it echo down through crevice. A smile, barely visible but very real, was wrenched from him before he could stop it.

Mordred found him some moments later, clever eyes glittering as the raven came to land upon the stonework. Black feathers ruffled in pleasure as Severus stroked a finger down the back of Mordred's head. The young Wizard sat down then and braced his back against the stone as he rooted through his belongings for a quill, ink and some parchment. Severus smoothed out the parchment against his leg and dipped the quill in to the inkpot, which rested on the stone beside him. Lips pursed in thought, he began writing.

_Harry,_

_I know you're worrying, but you can put your mind at ease; we arrived safely and without incident. The journey, while long and tiring, wasn't entirely horrible. The lady in charge of the trolley was very kind, though she grew exasperated when Lily spent the money you gave her. She purchased a bit of everything, the little savage. She shared her bounty with me and a pair of boys that shared our compartment, though. So, I wasn't terribly displeased by the waste as you can imagine. _

_A few horrid boys made my acquaintance on the train, but I should hopefully be able to avoid them outside of class. They were sorted into Gryffindor, where dwell the reckless and rude. Lily, to my misfortune, was sorted alongside them. I'm certain she'll be a stunning exception._

_Gryffindor is just one house. There are three others: Ravenclaw, the house for the academically and creatively inclined; Hufflepuff, an inanely happy lot from the look of them; and Slytherin, which houses the perpetually ambitious. That's my house._

_My dorm is comprised of five Slytherin boys, including myself. One of the others is an estranged cousin of mine, but I'd be grateful if you could keep that information to yourself. Mum doesn't need to know. It would only worry her. Another boy, Evan Rosier, is rather nosy. I don't particularly like him, but I suppose he's tolerable. For now, at any rate. On another note, we met our Head of House this morning. I'm not certain what to make of him; he seems more jovial than I expected, but beggars can't be choosers._

_Classes begin today, following breakfast. I look forward to seeing Lily once more – she will certainly love the subjects available. Slytherin is banded with Gryffindor for Defence Against The Dark Arts, Transfiguration, and Potions; Ravenclaw for History of Magic and Astronomy; and Hufflepuff for Charms and Herbology. Flying Lessons are instructed to all houses simultaneously, it seems. The very idea seems needlessly dangerous. If someone ends up breaking a leg, I shan't be surprised._

_I'd better be going; I've dawdled long enough. It's time now to mingle with the mindless masses._

_I'll write again soon._

– _Severus._

The young wizard hurriedly dried the ink with a surge of will-induced magic and rolled it up. Mordred held out one leg and wrapped his talons around the letter.

"Take it to Mr Evans," Severus instructed lightly. With a loud caw, the raven took flight. Severus lingered on the viaduct for several moments, simply watching his feathered familiar disappear into the horizon. Shoulders heaving with a heavy sigh, Severus shouldered his satchel and reluctantly strode off in search of the Great Hall.

Finding it was relatively simple, though he did take a few wrong turns along the way. Passing through the double doors, however, proved difficult. Severus was almost through the doors when a blast of cold energy struck him in the torso, toppling him backwards aggressively. His back hit the hard stone floor, the force of it knocking the wind out of his lungs in a rush.

"Ow," he groused. He pushed himself up with trembling arms and legs. Dark eyes observed the entryway with malicious intensity, wondering where the force had come from.

If the cause had been that Potter boy, he would...do something, something unpleasant probably.

"You're not the first, Severus; don't worry." Narcissa's familiar voice floated over from somewhere behind him. Whirling around revealed the Prefect as she emerged from the dungeon. Her lengthy strides carried her across the Entrance Hall. Coming to a stop beside Severus, she rested a gentle hand upon his shoulder. The resultant flinch was muted, but present nevertheless. Severus silently cursed his skittishness as Narcissa glanced at him curiously, but the moment passed after a heartbeat. Tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder, Narcissa turned to look at the entrance to the Great Hall.

"Grubb, show yourself," ordered the Prefect coldly. Summoned by her words, a heavy-set Victorian ghost materialised before their very eyes. "What have I told you about blocking the doorway?"

Grubb sniffed and glared at her spitefully, folding his arms across his chest.

"I told you," she reminded him helpfully, "if I caught you at it again, you'd regret it." Narcissa reached in to her robes and withdrew her wand with a flourish, brandishing it threateningly. Though it seemed impossible, Grubb grew paler in the face of Narcissa and her wand. The expression on the Prefect's face was fierce. The ghost took off hurriedly and Narcissa laughed as she stowed her wand away. Winking at Severus as though he were privy to a guarded secret, the elder girl explained quickly, "That was Edmund Grubb, who's been a rather spiteful chap ever since his son slipped poisonous berries in to his dessert. But he's all bluster and no bite. Mostly."

Gentle hands found Severus' shoulders, and lowering herself to his level, Narcissa stared into his face.

Feeling distinctly uncomfortable, the young wizard dropped his gaze to the floor.

"If anyone, ghost or otherwise, gives you any trouble you must come to me or one of the other Prefects. Dealing with such things may not be our job, from an official point of view, but we look after our own. No matter our differences, if one of us is stung, the rest of us will rise up to defend them. Remember that and you'll do alright here."

Daring to glance up, Severus was immediately disconcerted by the soft smile gracing Narcissa's face. She squeezed his shoulders warmly, the touch fleeting, and straightened gracefully. Black robes swirled in her wake as she turned on quick feet and disappeared in to the Great Hall. Something twisted sharply inside him and Severus followed after her, finding himself seated at the Slytherin table in no time at all. He might have said something in response to the Prefect's words had he not been distracted by the arrival of Lily.

"Severus," called the Gryffindor excitedly, dashing down the length of the Great Hall towards him. Her crimson hair flew behind her, shining in the morning light. Bright-eyed, Lily threw herself down upon the bench beside him. Cheeks flushed with her happiness, Lily hugged him with fierce vigour, causing a twinge of pain to flare up in his back from when he had hit the floor in the Entrance Hall. "We have Defence Against The Dark Arts together!"

"I'm aware," muttered Severus, glancing sideways as the seated Slytherins shuffled away. Lily noticed nothing, too busy waving her timetable at him in her excitement. She began expounding on all the things she wanted to learn and Severus listened absently while buttering some toast to distract himself from the gaping emptiness between him and the rest of his house...

**To Be Continued.**

Yay, house-bonding moments! But nay, also house-distancing moments.

Anyway, let it be noted that Edmund Grubb is a quasi-canon Harry Potter character mentioned on Pottermore, who died due to eating poisonous berries and sometimes prevents students from entering the Great Hall out of spite. I didn't create him, or anything; just added my own spin on how his death came about.

Feel free to let me know what you guys think. 


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Blue October, Volume Two – Chapter Four.

Author: Woodland Goddess.

Rated: M

Author's Notes: Hope the last chapter was okay. Here's another.

Chapter Four: Monsters and Magic

Severus ducked into the library on quick feet at the end of November and spelled the doors locked with a burst of silent and instinctual magic. He pressed himself against the wall and held his breath as footsteps thundered to a stop outside the door. His heart pounded a furious beat against his ribcage as his lungs began to burn from the strain. The sound of his heartbeat was so deafening it would surely alert Potter and his thugs as to his location. Obsidian eyes squeezed shut in quiet terror when Potter said, "Maybe he's in the library."

The iron knockers rattled and the heavy wood shuddered as Potter attempted to pull the doors open. Blistered hands curled into tight fists, pain exploding white-hot across Severus' nerve-endings. Pale nostrils flared as he dragged in a sharp breath before covering his mouth with hands that were now cracked and weeping both blood and clear fluid. Though he would rather fling himself off the Astronomy Tower than admit it aloud, he was impressed by the curse Black had used.

According to _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_ by Quentin Trimble, a good example would generally result in a bad case of sunburn. A painful experience and handy against angry Merfolk, certainly, but it would not normally have caused the burns that Black had managed to inflict upon him. Even Potter had looked at his friend in surprise. Lupin had looked a little green around the gills, which was more than understandable. After all, the level of power the boy had was nothing short of remarkable. Black would be a frightening opponent as an adult and fully-trained wizard – but Severus hoped he would fall through a false step on the moving staircase before that could happen.

The doors shuddered a second time and the young wizard released a slow breath as the faintest flicker of relief coursed through him. His Locking Charm was holding. His relief, however, was short-lived as Potter unnecessarily stated the obvious by declaring that the doors were locked. Excitement sparked in the horrid boy's voice a moment later. "Snivellus _has _to be in here!"

"Actually," said Lupin with a nervous laugh, "I saw Pince leaving the grounds this afternoon in a hurry. That's probably why the doors are locked."

"But –"

"Come on, James," interrupted Black irritably, "that woman wouldn't trust her own sister to look after her precious books."

"You're probably right," answered Potter in an amused manner. "Let's go. He's got to be somewhere around here." His voice grew muffled and distant as his footsteps moved away, two of his friends following after him. A fourth set scuffed against the stone briefly as a few muffled words attempted to breach the locked doors and then moved off, steps light and quick.

A second wave of relief washed through Severus as the corridor fell silent. He lowered his hands and stared down at the damage, knowing he would have to visit the Hospital Wing. A simple cut would not have been a problem for him, but the burns Black had inflicted upon him were a different equation altogether; it required a much more in-depth knowledge of Healing Charms. Which Severus lacked.

"For now," he grumbled to himself as he moved away from the wall. Going back out into the corridor was absolutely out of the question for the moment.

The young wizard crossed the library and sat down by the nearest window, his limbs beginning to tremble as the adrenaline faded. The pain in his hands, which had been less noticeable while he fled Potter and his merciless gang, flared to life in an instant. His lungs ached as Severus dragged in several ragged breaths, trying to focus on anything but the agony searing his hands. The glass was cool against his flushed forehead when he rested his head against the window. His heart clenched painfully in his chest when he spotted a familiar mane of crimson hair down below.

Lily.

Walking alongside the Burke and MacDonald girls and laughing at something one of them said.

Dark eyebrows knitted in a severe frown as something indescribable settled heavily in his stomach. When he had asked his friend if she wanted to go over the material they had covered in Transfiguration, Lily had said she would be studying in the Gryffindor Common Room with the girls. Severus tore his gaze away from the windowpane and stared down at the table beside him. He struggled to swallow past the lump lodged in his throat and sucked in a sharp breath. Somehow the pain in his hands had faded. Numbness settled over him like a blanket and slowly smothered him.

When a hand landed upon his shoulder an explosion of energy escaped him as he flinched violently. An expletive was hissed in an infuriatingly familiar voice. Severus lurched out of his chair, whirling around to see Lucius Malfoy clutching his own hand tightly.

"Impressive Stinging Hex," said the Head Boy after a long moment. His aristocratic voice was clipped but not without a small measure of sincerity. Dark suspicion flooded Severus' obsidian gaze as he accepted the compliment with tight-lipped gratitude. His face twitched in pain as Severus hid his hands behind his back instinctively, his cracked and blistered flesh pulsing agonisingly as it brushed against the fabric of his robes. Grey eyes narrowed sharply. "Show me your hands."

The frostbitten command tightened something deep within his chest and the young wizard took an immediate step backwards. His face drained of colour. Lucius' lips thinned in displeasure and he strode forward. He ignored the strangled noise that issued from Severus' rapidly constricting throat.

White-hot fear flooded him as Lucius closed the distance between them with barely two long strides. Elegant hands seized him before he could escape, vice-like and confident upon his wrists. Severus struggled for his freedom, but the Head Boy remained unmoved as he dragged Severus' hands into view. Lucius inhaled sharply and his arrogant nostrils flared. The glacial fury burning in his eyes was the stuff of nightmares and Severus dropped his gaze immediately. Staring at the floor seemed a far safer option than allowing himself to stare down into that fathomless darkness.

"Tell me who did this."

Though the Head Boy spoke softly, there was an unmistakable threat in his voice: a promise of dark retribution. For a moment Severus entertained the idea of ratting on Potter and unleashing all that dark power, but he quickly pushed it aside. It would only backfire upon himself two-fold. So, he remained silent on the subject and struggled to breathe evenly despite the lump of terror lodged securely in his throat. Several moments passed in which neither of them said a word as an imperious gaze remained fastened upon him expectantly.

"Very well. Keep your secrets," Lucius said quietly, releasing one of Severus' wrists without preamble.

A graceful hand produced an elm wand with barely a flourish. Severus flinched away, dark eyes locking instantly upon Lucius' aristocratic face as the elder boy aimed it at him. The Head Boy paused. Something unrecognisable flickered across his pointed features. His cruel mouth thinned further, and then a murmured incantation lit up the end of his wand. Warm magic bathed Severus' hands, capturing his attention effortlessly, and in moments there remained no trace of the curse Black had inflicted upon him. His pale hands glowed in the ebbing flow of magic.

The young wizard muttered his gratitude as Lucius straightened to his full height. Platinum-blond hair gleamed in the waning sunlight streaming through the windowpanes and sprawling across the ancient stones beneath their feet. For a long moment he looked down at Severus in silence before finally speaking.

"Whoever did that to you...don't allow them to get away with it." A smirk curled his mouth and grey eyes gleamed dangerously. Black fabric swirled as Lucius turned on his heel and vacated the library, his spine rigid and his head held high like royalty, his last words almost a command: _get even_.

A week later those words still plagued Severus, burrowing deep into his mind like the claws of a beast. Severus glanced across the Great Hall while he absentmindedly stirred his bowl of French onion soup. Potter and his gang were just sitting down to lunch and soon Black would be stuffing his face with everything sitting in front of him – including a healthy portion of lettuce. It was a habit that must have been instilled at home. Or else he was simply strange. The latter would not have surprised Severus in the slightest: there was something not quite right about that boy, no matter what anyone else thought.

Returning his attention to his lunch was a challenge, but he managed eventually. The croutons cut delicately through the sweet of the onion as he focused on his soup, his ears pricked for the vaguest hint of his success. He hid his smirk behind his goblet of pumpkin juice when the first chuckles drifted their way across the vast chamber, echoing off the stone walls. The chuckles soon evolved into a full bray of laughter that seemed ceaseless. Severus risked another glance at his rival and noted the bewildered expressions of Potter, Lupin and Pettigrew, while their peers stared.

Dark glee burned hotly inside him as Black clutched a stitch in his side and gasped in pain before his laughter doubled in intensity. A number of expressions flickered across the boy's face as he almost fell off the bench in his haste to get up, feet tangling in his own robes. Black's face had gone from a healthy pink to a dangerous scarlet in merely a few moments. He could hardly walk for laughing, one arm wrapped tightly around himself as he doubled over in pain even as tears of mirth streamed down his cheeks. Severus hid another smirk behind his goblet and took a drink to stop himself from laughing at Black's misfortune. Watching the alarm spread across Potter's face was like being gifted with a box of chocolates.

Professor Dumbledore and the other professors watched in growing concern. Madam Pomfrey was just rising from her chair – followed quickly by Professor Sprout in Professor McGonagall's place during one of her rare absences from the Great Hall – when Alice Burke jumped up, shrieking, "Black wet himself!"

Evan snorted in amusement beside Severus and hastily concealed it within a coughing fit when Narcissa looked down the table at them. Disapproval radiated from her form in thick waves. Her pale eyebrows drew together in a frown while Lucius tossed his platinum-blond hair back over his shoulder, laughing at something one of his companions said under their breath.

Assured of his success in hurting and humiliating Potter's most loyal thug, Severus returned to his lunch with a practiced air of nonchalance as Professor Sprout and Madam Pomfrey ushered Black quickly out through the double doors. The French onion soup tasted twice as good as it had a moment ago and he enjoyed a bread roll slathered in butter and jam afterwards, considering it a dessert of sorts. He was one of the first to leave the Great Hall when lunch drew to a close, his satchel slung haphazardly from his shoulder as he made his way towards the third floor for Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Lily caught up to him quickly, her cheeks darkened with faint exertion.

"I know you tampered with the salad, Sev," she finally whispered as they climbed the moving staircases together, her indignant face almost as red as her hair, "and he never deserved what you did to him!" Green eyes glanced nervously towards the portraits upon the walls. She stepped closer to Severus as they slipped into the third floor corridor, gripping his arm to emphasis her urgency, her expression growing more severe. "You can't tell me you weren't aware people can _die _from laughing too much."

A disdainful snort escaped him.

As if he would make such a grievous error!

Severus looked askance at his friend with the intention of refuting her melodramatic exclamation...and fell silent as Professor Chiharu Sato appeared at the other end of the corridor. A pair of rectangular glasses sat delicately over the bridge of her nose and glinted faintly as the woman flicked her gaze in their direction. His hand tightened around the strap of his satchel. Professor Sato smiled broadly at the sight of them before disappearing into her classroom in a swirl of fabric, arms laden with textbooks and parchment.

Lily huffed irritably in his wake as his steps quickened marginally, an odd sensation blooming in his abdomen. A dull light filtered through the windowpanes when they slipped inside the classroom. The hazy pools on the stone floor and desks mirrored the splashes of rain pattering against the glass. The room was warm and welcoming despite the dreary weather, though Severus attributed that to the large Japanese tapestry on the wall opposite the windows. The tapestry depicted an impossibly long serpentine Dragon, whose crimson and gold scales undulated as the beast breathed. Steam and flames curled out of its gaping maw as it roared in absolute silence.

The pair of them made a beeline for their usual spot while Professor Sato deposited her burden upon her desk. Teal threads shimmered at the hem of her robes as Professor Sato crossed the classroom and came to stand beside the wisteria bonsai in the corner of the room. Her copper hair was pinned artfully in place by clips adorned with stylised Mokumokuren, which stared across the room in unending malevolence.

The Japanese spirits, both unnerving and fascinating in equal measure, had been the subject of their last lesson. Lily had suffered nightmares afterwards and Severus had spent more than an hour in the library, researching the Mokumokuren in even greater detail. Fortune favoured the prepared, after all.

He set his satchel down on his desk and withdrew his textbook, parchment, inkwell and quill. A surreptitious glance revealed Professor Sato watering her bonsai, humming quietly as she did so.

The Professor was a strange woman, whose warm smile belied the severe lines and angles of her face, and whose clumsiness was continuously at odds with the precision of her spell-work. She seemed quiet and timid at first glance, but controlled the classroom with an iron fist. Her temper could easily rival a Dragon's. A dreamy expression washed over her face as she leaned into her bonsai and inhaled a lungful of wisteria. Her fingertips fondly touched the purple petals.

"Afternoon, everyone," said Professor Sato as she turned towards the students now flooding into the classroom. Her hand fell to rest at her side. The smile that lit up her face could not hide the steel in her gaze as the mix of Gryffindors and Slytherins took their seats. "I hope you're not all too sluggish after lunch; I won't be going easy on you."

Her strong Southern Welsh accent was the subject of numerous jokes in the corridors, but none were stupid enough to laugh in class. Not after the Dragon had tried to claw its way out of the tapestry during the introductory class, sending the students into a panic as they lunged out of their seats and screamed their lungs out. Potter had tripped over the leg of his own chair and sent himself and Black to the floor in a tangled sprawl. The corner of Severus' mouth quirked upwards at the recollection. But even Severus would admit to having been alarmed by the very real teeth that had glistened with saliva before Professor Sato had authoritatively ordered both the Dragon and the students to calm down at once. No one had dared to disrupt her class since.

Severus could hardly blame them.

Professor Sato tripped on her way to her desk and muttered a curse as she caught her balance with a quick hand.

"Today," she announced as she turned to face the class brightly, her copper hair gleaming with equal intensity, "we'll be focusing on the Smokescreen Charm." Amusement sparked behind her glasses as a number of students groaned. "I'm aware that the spell isn't flashy or very impressive, but I can personally attest to its advantages in combat." Her expression darkened for an instant. "Evasive tactics are always helpful when faced with an enemy whose ability exceeds your own; none of you should be too proud to dodge and run." A smile seemed to force its way upon her face when several students – the Muggleborns in particular – glanced at each other anxiously. "Now, don't be shy; get your wands out!"

Her smile turned warm and genuine as the grumbled complaints dwindled away to nothing, the class complying with the instruction without having to be ordered twice. There was not a witch or wizard that preferred to study the theory when offered the opportunity to practice magic. Professor Sato twirled her cherry wand between dexterous fingers when their attention returned to her. Her gaze flicked around the classroom searchingly before landing upon Severus with an air of finality, expression contemplative and quietly encouraging.

"Mr Snape," she commanded firmly, "come here."

He rose from his chair abruptly and approached the front of the classroom without question or argument. Severus glanced over his shoulder when Lily huffed. A knot of discomfort formed in his stomach as green eyes sparkled angrily. Lily looked away after a moment and folded her arms across her chest. He squashed the fleeting thought that flashed through his mind immediately; the notion went beyond the mere improbable and dived straight into the realm of impossibility. Severus forced himself to focus upon the matter at hand and awaited further instruction as he looked up at the teacher.

"Now," Professor Sato continued as she turned on her heel and walked fifteen paces away. A thrust of her hand cleared the area by sending chairs and desks and students back several feet. An impenetrable barrier burst into existence a moment later and shielded the rest of the students, whose expressions were now rapt. "The pair of us will demonstrate the advantages of the Smokescreen Charm in combat. You will attempt to strike me with any and every curse and hex you can think of and I will attempt to evade your efforts. Do you have any objections, Mr Snape?"

His answer came in the form of a rapidly fired hex.

"Fumos," bellowed Professor Sato as she twirled out of the way and swivelled her wrist in the requisite manner. Dark grey smoke billowed from the end of her wand as black fabric whirled impressively. Soon Severus could hardly breathe for the thick smoke pervading the air and still he fired hex after hex, curse after curse, coloured lights exploding through the gloom in every direction. But Professor Sato never went down: on and on she taunted him, her steps seeming to echo from a dozen places at once.

A Leg-Locker Curse struck him from behind less than five minutes later. The smoke abruptly vanished as Severus toppled forward and he abandoned his wand in favour of preventing his face from smashing against the stone floor. Several students beyond the barrier erupted into raucous cheers. Severus snatched up his wand and scrambled to his feet as soon as he could. His face flooded with mortification as he brushed dust from his robes and fixed his tie.

"Mr Snape, that was more fun than I've had in a while," said Professor Sato cheerfully. A brisk wave of her wand dismantled the barrier and returned the furniture to their original locations. She clapped her hand on his shoulder in a congratulatory manner and Severus struggled not to flinch at the unexpected touch. However, Professor Sato hardly seemed to notice his discomfort and ploughed onwards without hesitation. "Ten points to Slytherin for good reflexes and five more for your enthusiastic participation!"

The young wizard drew himself up with pride and a deep sense of satisfaction at the announcement. A wave of awkward pleasure washed through him when Lily and all but one Slytherin student grinned winningly at him. He hurried back to his seat and smiled at his companion when she whispered, "Well done, Sev!"

But Severus knew her congratulations would be short-lived: there was nothing quite like competition between friends...

**To Be Continued.**

Feel free to let me know what you think.


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Blue October, Volume Two – Chapter Five.

Author: Woodland Goddess.

Rated: M

Author's Note: Hope the last chapter was okay.

Chapter Five: Winter Surprises

Severus watched in silence as Lily packed away her books testily. The silence that sat heavy and uncomfortable around them was preferable to the arguments that occurred so often during the last week. But he managed to hold his tongue for only a few moments before he finally spoke.

"I just want to understand why," Severus said at last. He spoke barely above a whisper to avoid the irritation of Madam Pince, who was cataloguing some new acquisitions not too far from their desk. "Why do you spend so much more time with them than me?"

His friend sighed as she shouldered her satchel. Frustrated fingers tucked a loose tendril of hair behind a delicate ear – the rest of her crimson mane had been swept up into a ponytail and tied with a black hair-tie that morning. However, a few tendrils around her ears always managed to escape her fingers.

"You know it's not like that," Lily answered quietly, green eyes glittering at him from across the desk. "You only think that because my time and attention were solely yours before, and now they aren't. Such jealousy is normal right now, Sev, but you need to let this go at some point. You can't blame me for your not trying to make new friends."

"I don't know any such thing, and that's beside the point!"

A snort of bitter amusement escaped Lily, who shook her head exasperatedly. But nothing more passed between them as she turned and strode away, back straight and head held high. Feeling immensely stung, Severus watched her go without a word. He wanted nothing more than to throw his inkwell at the nearest wall. He ignored the urge in favour of continuing his History of Magic homework and trying not to rip through the parchment with his quill. Concentrating upon his homework was easier said than done, of course. Far too often he found his thoughts straying towards Lily and her recent obsession with spending time with the other girls in her dorm.

Two hours and one horrendously written essay passed before the unexpected arrival of Lucius Malfoy disrupted his frustrated silence. The elder boy planted himself in the chair opposite and crossed his legs in an elegant and somewhat effeminate manner. Severus refrained from acknowledging his appearance until Lucius spoke in a clipped manner, "One generally greets one's friends."

"We aren't friends," Severus returned sharply, finally looking up at him.

"But we could be," Lucius replied patiently, his sharp features almost warm with contemplation. He brushed an imaginary piece of lint from his gracefully broad shoulder. Severus cast an icy glance in his direction and began gathering his possessions without a word. He ignored the words that continued pouring from aristocratic lips. "You need to begin forming your connections now, Severus; sitting silently in the corner will do nothing for your future prospects in this world. It would be a shame to let that brain of yours fall into disuse."

Severus shouldered his satchel and walked away, feeling a stab of satisfaction when Lucius bristled in his wake. He faltered outside the library only when he spotted Potter laughing uproariously at the end of the corridor, his thugs staring at him as though his arrogance hung the moon and stars. His survival instincts encouraged him to return to the safety of the library, where the presence of Madam Pince and the Head Boy would provide some measure of protection. His pride, however, refused to let him retreat. His pride wanted nothing more than to send Potter toppling down the stairs with a well-placed hex.

The young wizard slipped his hand into his pocket and withdrew his wand. Concealing it up his sleeve, Severus told himself it was nothing more than a simple precaution. But he knew fortune would favour the prepared. His fingers flexing around the grip, Severus donned an air of nonchalance as he turned down the corridor in the opposite direction. An array of spells flickered through his mind. Each of them danced briefly upon the tip of his tongue, preparing to fling themselves from his mouth at the barest provocation.

He could feel it when the atmosphere in the corridor shifted almost imperceptibly, turning darker in unspeakable ways. Alarm raised the tiny hairs across the entire length of his body as goose bumps pimpled his flesh. His grip tightened around his wand as that infernal slur issued forth from Potter's vile and wicked mouth. Severus quickened his pace and disappeared around the next corner, his heart beginning to pound as Potter and his thugs broke into a run somewhere behind him. He whirled around as Potter emerged from beyond the bend and employed the Smokescreen Charm instantly. Severus used the chance to slip back down the corridor, avoiding his tormentors by playing close attention to their voices, which grew louder with frustration when the smoke refused to be banished. His quiet desperation fuelled the magic that kept the screen in place as he crept passed them.

A smirk curled his mouth when Potter and Black collided with each other, their empty skulls echoing dully before they fell apart with a muffled curse. Severus suppressed his exclamation of triumph as he emerged from the smoke behind them and hastened down the corridor, his steps as quick and silent as he could make them.

He almost made it past the library when a swift hand snared his robes and hauled him sideways, pulling him back inside the cavernous room filled to bursting with books that smelled like ink and parchment and lost years. Lucius looked down at him shrewdly, an eyebrow arching, before disappearing into the corridor. The door closed behind him. Even so, Severus could hear the elder student deducting house points from Gryffindor, much to the indignation of Potter and his unruly gang. Satisfaction punched through his stomach. He almost grinned. Fortunately, he managed to squash the urge before Lucius returned and shut the double doors once more. An insistent hand seized his shoulder and ushered him back towards the abandoned desk.

"This," Lucius explained silkily as he pushed him down onto the nearest available chair, "is why you need to forge connections with others. As you can see, Gryffindors will never be as noble as some consider themselves to be and developing mutually beneficial relationships with others in your house could provide some measure of security." Grey eyes gleamed as Lucius settled opposite him. His narrow features seemed twice as sharp and dangerous as he spoke. "Lions may travel in prides, but serpents can slither unseen whenever they wish to. One quick bite can change everything, Severus."

"I have Lily. I don't need anyone else." The denial came out jagged and sharp, and only reminded him of the incantation used to heal his burnt hands. It reminded him of his friend walking away, leaving him in favour of those girls she thought so amazing; her precious Gryffindors. Lucius arched an eyebrow, but said nothing. He never needed to. Severus understood too well the point the Head Boy wished to make, the point he refused to acknowledge aloud. "And I don't need your protection!"

"Then perhaps a study partner?" Lucius leaned back in his chair, his every move epitomising grace and poetry the way Severus could never emulate. Not that he wanted to, of course. Emulating Lucius Malfoy was the last thing he wanted to do, even if the elder wizard were so regal in bearing. "I'm more than willing to cultivate such an arrangement with you. We could hardly call such a thing friendship, could we?"

"Fine," Severus groused. "Just shut up."

Triumph blazed briefly across pointed features before Lucius withdrew a volume from one of his inner pockets and turned the ageing pages until a miniscule bell chimed – the result of a clever and remarkable spell designed to mark one's place in a book. Uncomfortable with having given him such an easy victory, Severus avoided looking at him and withdrew the first book that came to hand: his textbook on Transfiguration. Neither of them spoke further, though Lucius surprised him by humming under his breath as he studied. Tuning him out was a simple matter, his attention captured at once by the spells he needed to revise.

Narcissa joined them an indeterminate amount of time later, tossing her waterfall of blonde hair over her shoulder as she settled beside the seventh year. She turned a brief smile upon Severus. Beside her, Lucius hummed in acknowledgement and covered her hand with his larger one. He tangled their fingers together with practiced ease, and Severus could do nothing but wonder how he managed everything without seeming uncomfortable even once.

It was an ease that continued to bother him with every passing day, his time divided almost equally between Lily, and Lucius and Narcissa. It was strange, studying with Lucius. Normally, the seventh year never made a sound but for his quiet humming, but sometimes...when Severus was stumped...he would come around the table and ask what the matter was. He would poke and prod at him intellectually, his tone as sleek and aristocratic as ever, until the answer came to him on its own. Not spelling the answer out for him proved immensely beneficial and eventually he never needed to consult Lucius at all. Once or twice, Lucius even held out his own textbooks and discussed the more advanced spells with Severus; first the theory, and later the incantations once he ceased regarding Lucius with stubborn suspicion that his mother would have been proud of.

Severus loved those afternoons and evenings the most. He loved the chance to learn new curses, new hexes and jinxes, new charms. Professor Sato was always surprised by his growing repertoire whenever she asked him to assist with demonstrations in class, and tended to award points whenever he handled a more advanced spell with particular aplomb. Something his housemates approved of wholeheartedly; even Barberus Prince managed to be pleased at one point or another, though he belied such circumstances by tripping him in the corridors and stealing his things with alarming frequency. Not that his things were worth stealing.

The one person displeased by his upgrading skill was Lily, whose angry spark grew angrier until she slammed her books down on the desk opposite him one afternoon in the middle of December and snapped, "Is it true?"

"Is what true?"

"You! Spending time with Malfoy!"

"Yes." Severus saw no reason to deny the accusation. Anyway, attempting to soften the blow would only come back and bite him in the end. He set aside an essay he began simply because he wanted to, and looked up at his irate friend. Her anger flooded her face with warm colour, one he had rarely seen directed towards him. Usually, she directed it towards others on his behalf. "Lily, why are you so angry with me? You're the one who insisted that I make friends and this relationship between me and Lucius Malfoy doesn't even stretch that far. We're study partners, nothing more."

"Really? Because Black says you're his lapdog."

The accusation came out sharp, sharper than anything he had ever heard from her. And it stung, like a wasp at the height of summer.

"And I suppose you always listen to what that mongrel says about me." Severus jumped up as the words escaped him on a hiss and shoved his things away, infuriated by the growing sting burning in his eyes. His hands shook with the powerful anger coursing through him. He pushed past her, ignoring her hushed shout under the watchful eye of the librarian and stormed from the library. He never stopped storming until his vision blurred and the crags below the viaduct heard the scuffle as his knees gave way, his books toppling from his satchel.

The rough stone scraping his palms stung less than the words Lily had uttered. Severus swallowed a bitter laugh at the thought as he settled on the ground and drew his knees closer, almost crushing them against his chest the way he would when he was younger. The wintry chill that had settled around Hogwarts in recent weeks sent bursts of pain shooting through his arm in various vibrant colours. He had brought no coat with him that morning. Normally, he never ventured outside in this weather unless necessary, and such moments often involved trekking across the grounds to reach the greenhouses or being shoved onto a broomstick despite his preference for remaining on the ground. Madam Hooch never listened to him. She never listened to anyone who claimed the sport was anything less than wonderful.

Naturally, she adored James Potter and his cruel sidekick and it seemed Lily would follow in her footsteps, choosing to side with them instead of him. Instead of someone she claimed was her best friend next to Petunia. A bitter smile twisted his mouth. But for a few wise girls in his own house, almost every girl in the year seemed to think the sun shone out of Potter's condescending arse. Not to mention every pore on his damned body. All the professors adored his winning smile and arrogant strutting like an overgrown peacock.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose and inhaled sharply, wanting nothing more than to rip Potter's bloody feathers off. The mere knowledge that his tormentor was so beloved hurt twice as much as his agonised arm did. He almost found himself wanting to go home for the first time in his life. At least Mr Evans would have welcomed him with open arms had Tobias driven him away, would have welcomed him despite his wife's dislike of him. Of course, Mr Evans would also have stopped those damned Gryffindors from treating him that way, from treating him like he meant nothing – like he was barely even a person. He would have scolded Lily for repeating something any one of them had said. He would have stood by him.

The fabric of his robe was coarse and threadbare against his skin when Severus wiped his face hastily, his heart hammering when the doors opened. Lily appeared in the doorway. Her heavy coat threatened to suffocate her. Her shoes scuffed against the stone as Lily hastened across the viaduct and threw herself upon him with too much vigour, her arms winding around his neck. Her sudden weight almost smothered him. But he could find neither the will nor the strength to push her away, to keep his distance after the accusation she had repeated; his arms wrapped around her almost of their own volition.

"I'm sorry." The way her apology escaped was not unlike the way water rushed past within a babbling brook. Loose tendrils of crimson hair brushed his cheek. She tightened her arms around him. "I know what I said was mean and I'm sorry, so sorry for hurting you, but I was upset. I was angry! Don't you know what everyone's been saying about him and the others like him? Malfoy hates people like me, people like us!"

"But he doesn't seem very hateful right now," Severus grumbled against her shoulder, his face warming up rapidly and his stomach squirming the longer she remained attached to him. The warmth of her coat eased the pain in his arm a little. His hands clawed at her back. "He hasn't said anything about you, you know, and I'd tell him to shut up had he done so. But he hasn't mentioned anything of the sort. Not about you or me. All we do is study, Lily, I swear. I don't talk to him except to ask him something, and he doesn't talk to me unless he thinks a spell would interest me. We aren't friends."

"Okay, good. Don't ever be." Lily withdrew a moment or so later, her expression fraught with a multitude of emotions. She worried at her bottom lip, but shuffled around so she could sit beside him. She linked their arms together, squeezing his elbow with her warm hand. Automatically, Severus inched closer, avoiding her knowing glance when another chill gripped him. Chuckling, Lily pulled him even closer, her hair tickling his face once more. Her laughter soon faded as the chill pervaded even their warm huddle and sent a shiver through each of them. "Sev, you know I'm just looking out for you, don't you? I don't want to see you get hurt and Malfoy, he's slippery, he's like an eel or something, and he's just waiting to get his fangs into you. Promise me you'll be careful."

"I am being careful."

A week later, however, found Severus at home in Cokeworth with two letters clutched in his hand.

First and foremost was the missive from Narcissa. It was an expansive letter wishing him a happy holiday, and her best wishes for the New Year, which was accompanied by a handsome quill and two wax and seal sets: one bearing the Slytherin emblem and the other the Prince coat of arms. Seeing them warmed him. He had never expected to receive any gifts beyond those from Lily, Mr Evans, and his mother; the three people that mattered most to him.

But it was the second missive that concerned him most. It was short and simple: an admonition to stay warm in elegant script that flowed across the parchment without hesitation or mishap, without blots of ink splashed in every direction the way his card from Lily had been. The missive came with a pair of sleek black gloves that reached almost to his elbows and a scarf. Both garments pulsed with warmth as soon as he donned them. The heat spread through every inch of him until his muscles relaxed and the ache in his arm ebbed away, leaving him comfortable and content. And perhaps a fraction guilty, when he remembered Lily's warning, but the seventh year seemed almost amicable.

Lucius even seemed to care.

**To Be Continued.**

Feel free to let me know what you think!


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Blue October, Volume Two – Chapter Six.

Author: Woodland Goddess.

Rated: M

Author's Note: Thanks a bunch to those of you who've read or reviewed so far; I appreciate it a lot. Also, I'm sorry for the delay on this chapter. The last few weeks have been fairly busy, as my band recently had a concert to perform. My writing may continue to be a little slow, though, because I've come down with a head cold since the concert and my brain has turned to mush.

Chapter Six: Static

Returning to Cokeworth was a mistake. Severus knew it as soon as his mother had graced him with an exhausted smile upon seeing him at the station and pulled him into a crushing embrace that startled him. Her embrace had lasted several long moments and then she had rushed him away, refusing to allow him even a moment to greet Harry and his wife. It had been strange. The continued distance between Mr Evans and Eileen was even stranger, considering how often the man wrote to him about the evenings he spent accompanying her to Diagon Alley, discussing anything and everything, while his mother went about her business. Just like Severus and Lily, they had seemed fast friends.

But that was far from the worst part.

Tobias seemed angrier than usual. His bursts of rage were explosive. It caught them unawares at times. He would be quiet and subdued one moment as he squinted at the paper, having stolen it probably, and the next saw toppled cauldrons and bellowed slurs, his hand and belt faster and crueller than ever. Obviously, Severus knew enough to know his father would have preferred him to stay away, and reduce their weekly expenses. He had wanted to spend the winter holidays at Hogwarts. He would have sacrificed anything to stay there, but the eager letter from Harry had ensured his return. It was the only thing that could have. His disappointment was not something Severus wanted on his conscience.

But Tobias was far from a fool: he knew better than to hit him where Mr Evans would notice at first glance. He knew better than to strike Eileen across the face.

Severus' only reprieve came in the form of Lily, who dragged him to her house more than once. Her excitement made it a simple matter to conceal his pained grimaces, and the stiffness of his back and legs, where Tobias punished him for returning home. It was far harder to fool Mr Evans, whose natural concern and observation knew no bounds. Just one grimace or wince in front of him would have revealed everything, but he managed somehow. He managed to keep the matter a guarded secret that would hurt no one and it remained a secret until the time came to return to Hogwarts for the next term.

Mr Evans took them both to the station that day, the pair of them squashed into the backseat of the car next to Petunia. Green eyes watched him through the rear-view mirror whenever Severus aborted a gasp, every bump jostling the black and blue and purple bruises and red welts decorating his back. The seat belt creaked in his grasp, his knuckles whitening. Sweat beaded at his temples, dampening his hair, and his skin grew paler under Mr Evans' scrutiny. Severus stared out the window, avoiding those observant emeralds. There was a continuous babble beside him as Lily waxed lyrical about the expansive grounds, the moving staircases, the portraits and the ghosts. Though she attempted to appear distant and uncaring, Petunia hung on every word.

Lily had confessed after midnight mass. She had confessed to having found the letter from Dumbledore when looking for Mr Evans' copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ and that Severus had urged her to put it away, to leave the matter alone. It had ended with hushed shouts and anger, but Petunia had accepted the apology in the end. Accepted that Severus was innocent of snooping. Of course, that was not to say his relationship with Petunia had improved in any way; she still despised him and tolerated him for the sake of her sister, and her father, and perhaps the sake of an existence without arguments.

Severus released a pained sigh as he climbed out of the car, sparks of pain shooting across his back. He ignored the concerned glance from Mr Evans and muttered soothing words to his agitated familiar, Mordred. His raven hated being trapped in the car, its confines too small for his liking, and Severus could certainly understand that. He wanted nothing more than to give Mordred the freedom to fly, and feel the wind in his feathers, but that was not possible at present. He needed to keep Mordred safe until the time came.

Lily and Petunia led the way through the barrier, and Severus was about to push his own trolley after them when Mr Evans stopped him with a firm hand.

"Severus, we need to talk." A mass of serpents writhed within him at the grave tone, and his heart skipped a dozen beats as Mr Evans tightened his grip, turning him around to face him with expert precision. Crouching, Mr Evans searched his face for a long, painful moment that stretched forever, before finally murmuring, "The next time he hurts you, you come to our house, okay? You can stay with us for as long as you need to in future. Please don't suffer in silence like this anymore. Don't hide it way, like it doesn't matter to us or something. Promise me that much."

Nodding, Severus avoided giving his word aloud. He knew Mr Evans was being more optimistic than advisable: it was no secret that his wife despised him. Severus imagined Mrs Evans would have a few choice words about this open invitation to swing by, and stay for as long as he wished. Appeasing Mr Evans would have to suffice for now, until he could think of something else; another means of escaping Tobias' ire. Perhaps he would put his foot down next time, and stay at Hogwarts for the winter, away from monsters like Pettigrew, away from everyone that might do him harm.

Mr Evans stared at him for another moment or so, unhappy, and troubled.

Guilt and discomfort gnawed at Severus. Mustering a few scraps of courage, he pushed his trolley, the momentum pulling him out of Mr Evans' grasp and through the barrier. It took only a few moments to catch up with Lily, who was now introducing Petunia to Alice Burke and Mary MacDonald with great enthusiasm. His stomach knotted. His friend never introduced him to her friends. Seeing her do so now, with Petunia, stung more than he could express. But he pushed it down and away, buried it behind a blank mask as the girls glanced at him and inched away, distancing themselves from him.

Even so, Lily beamed at him. It was more than enough to put him at ease, his stomach unknotting, and his shoulders relaxing. Mordred gurgled within his cage. Absently, Severus stroked a finger over his smooth feathers, earning yet another gurgle as the raven stepped closer to push his head against Severus' hand. Another moment or so passed before Mr Evans ushered the pair of them away, helping them store their trunks in the first empty compartment they came across.

"Now, I want the pair of you to write to me," Mr Evans encouraged as he crushed Lily in his embrace. He ruffled Severus' hair when he withdrew, disgruntling him and warming him in the same breath. Sadness at seeing them go underscored the severity in his voice. "I want to receive a letter from each of you at least every week. There weren't nearly enough letters sent home last term and I worried about the pair of you all the time. I've been reading up on this school of yours, and frankly, it sounds terrifying. Are you aware that there's a room full of lethal weapons somewhere in that bloody castle? What on earth were they thinking?!"

Mr Evans might have continued his rant about Hogwarts for an eternity, but the blow of the whistle cut him short. He gave Lily another quick hug, and squeezed Severus' shoulder, and then vacated the train to join Petunia down on the platform. Lily opened the window, and started waving, shouting, "I already miss you, Tuney! I'll take loads of pictures to show you next summer, I promise! Give my love to Mum!"

When the train started moving, Lily pulled back and closed the window, settling down opposite him with a small smile that barely reached her cheeks. Never mind her ears. He knew the first few weeks back would be harder for her now, having had so much time with her family over the winter holidays. Severus would do his best to distract her, starting from that very moment as he pulled out one of his textbooks. The prospect of using magic always cheered Lily up. Of course, that was more than understandable: using magic was not unlike the coursing of adrenaline through one's veins. The young wizard pulled out his wand and began practicing some of the spells from the book's rear, where the more advanced spells dwelled. Lily, upon seeing him practice his magic, reached for her own wand and soon joined him.

"Do you think Dad would get me next year's books early, if I asked?" Lily wondered aloud sometime later, the loose tendrils of her hair frizzy with static from using so much magic. Outside the window, the darkness stretched as far as the eye could see and it signified the imminent arrival at Hogsmeade Station. "I bet he would. He spent half the holidays reading through the books I already have. Dad was fascinated!" Lily's face scrunched up. "All this would be so much better, if he were a wizard!"

"I know." Severus chuckled under his breath and watched as his friend petted the kitten now lounging across her lap, purring softly. A small smile reserved just for Lily curled across his mouth. "Could you imagine? He'd have had McGonagall pestered within a fortnight. Of course, he could also send howlers when we don't send enough letters to him. I can't imagine how dreadful that would be."

"That's true." A warm burst of laughter escaped Lily, and a smile bloomed to answer his. The smile stretched from ear to ear this time. Warmth surged inside him at the sight. "One day, when we're older, we'll have to bring him to Hogsmeade and show him around. Some of the older students told me about this sweetshop there, and it sounds amazing! I can't wait to go there." Her hand came to rest on her belly, an almost wistful expression crossing her face. "I want to try everything I can get my hands on! Fatten myself up on sweets!"

"We'd need a wheelbarrow to move you, and I refuse to push you around." Severus snorted in amusement at the indignation that crossed her face. She swatted him, the blow quick and sharp, and the ripple through him jarred his back. He swallowed the pained noise that threatened to escape, and reached out to stroke Arthur, allowing the soft fur to comfort him somewhat. "Potter," his mouth twisted around the name, releasing it on a sneer, "would probably volunteer in an instant. It's disturbing, the way he stares at you."

"I know." Lily made a face. "I wish he'd leave me alone. You'd think he'd get a damned clue. How many times do I have to tell him to piss off?"

"I've lost count of how many times I've wanted to shove him in the lake. Do you think the merfolk would do us a favour and eat him?" Severus laughed at the scandalized stare Lily directed at him. "What? You can't pretend you haven't thought about it. You mutter about him all the time."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean I'd do anything about it. Potter may be a toe-rag, but he doesn't deserve to get eaten." She dropped her stare, focusing on the kitten in her lap. Her fingers scratched Arthur between the ears. Her forehead scrunched up, wrinkling with contemplation. "Anyway, we don't even know anything about him. For all we know, he could have a rotten home or something."

"I doubt it." Another sneer twisted his features. Severus looked out the window, scowling at the trees and fields that loomed in the darkness before rushing past. Angry serpents coiled inside him and hissed and snapped with the need to surge forward and break free, but he corralled them into a corner and beat them into submission. He allowed only a measure of his ire to escape him on a snarl. "He's obviously been a pampered brat all his life. He wouldn't know hardship, if it came and bit him in the arse."

"Maybe, but sometimes...sometimes it's better to give someone the benefit of the doubt. He could be a somewhat okay person, you know, deep down. Like, way down."

A derisive snort escaped Severus. He might have said more on the matter, but for the train slowing down around them. Sighing, Lily secured Arthur in his basket as Severus stroked Mordred's feathers one last time. He hated leaving the raven behind. Mordred unfolded his wings, and gurgled at him. Severus and Lily vacated the compartment and exited the train in silence, glancing at each other every now and then as they followed the river of students to a vast collection of carriages without horses. They climbed into the first empty one they could find.

And Severus almost swallowed his tongue when Lucius and Narcissa joined them a moment later, taking the remaining seats and looking incredibly out of place. Vaguely, he noticed Potter looking mutinous outside before the boy skulked away, glaring over his shoulder at the carriage. But that hardly mattered compared to way Lily stiffened beside him and looked as though she were ready to jump back out of the carriage, and possibly take her chances swimming across the lake instead of sitting opposite Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black.

"Good evening, Severus," Lucius intoned in his usual silken tones as he crossed his long legs and folded his hands. He bestowed a brief and blank glance upon Lily and greeted her, before refocusing upon Severus. "I hope the holidays weren't too insufferable without classes to distract you. I suppose you're pleased to return?"

"Somewhat." Severus tensed under his scrutiny, his back red with agony. A spasm ran across his bruised flesh. It almost made him want to weep, but he scowled instead. Scowling seemed better than weeping, though his friend hated it when he did so; allowing Tobias that much power over him was not an option. Not now, and not ever again. He refused to let him win. "I missed the castle," Severus admitted slowly, almost reluctantly, and cast an uncertain glance at Lily, "and the library. I could live without the rest."

Lucius arched a questioning eyebrow, but changed the subject with particular aplomb; he dived into a discussion on the social functions his father had dragged him to over the break. The young wizard stared at the elder boy, wondering whether he was meant to care. It was impossible to fathom why he ought to care about this man's horrendous dress robes or that woman's atrocious hair, or even why so and so decided to match lime green tablecloths with canary yellow napkins. Such things were trivial.

Even so, Severus listened to every word and noticed the moment his eyes glazed over, boredom settling inside him like a disease. It slowly sapped his energy, reducing him to nought but weariness and growing irritation until his magic started crackling around him like static.

"Lucius, must we speak of such drivel," Narcissa asked as the carriage swayed to a stop, her tone as weary as Severus felt and yet fond amusement flickered across her features. "No one cares. Certainly, Severus and I don't. I'm not sure about..." The Prefect glanced then at Lily, her expression now as blank as the one Lucius had worn when addressing her, "...Ms Evans, here."

Stamping down on his errant magic, Severus closed his eyes at the indignant noise that escaped Lily beside him. He avoided looking at her, uncertain what he might see, and bolted out of the carriage before anyone could say another word on the matter. Now was not the time to get entangled in a quarrel with Lily, not with two ambitious individuals in tow. Not to mention Potter, who emerged from a nearby carriage, unscrupulous gaze fastened upon the lot of them. Severus sneered at him and hauled Lily away, as far away from Potter as possible. For once, she raised no complaints at being manhandled despite usually being the one to manhandle Severus. Neither of them said a word as they lost themselves in the river of black flooding the path up to the castle, which loomed in the darkness and glowed in parts with warm light.

The sight made his breath catch.

Yes, he had missed this. He had missed the towers stretching towards the sky, missed the scent of candles and creak of suits of armour, the shifting of the heavy staircases. Strangely, he had even missed the silent spectre of the Bloody Baron and his eerie staring, his helpful gestures whenever Severus found himself lost within the endless corridors. He was surprised to know just how much he had missed Hogwarts – regardless of Potter's insufferable presence there. He had never noticed the dull ache in his chest that vanished now, presented with his home away from home, the weight of the years stretching out before him like an open road.

Mustering his scraps of courage, Severus strode forward and whispered to Lily, "I'm sorry about the carriage. I wasn't aware he'd planned to join us."

"I'm sure that's true, but you could have told him to piss off."

"No, I can't. He's the Head Boy!"

"He doesn't have any jurisdiction before we reach the grounds!"

"That doesn't mean he wouldn't abuse that power," Severus answered pointedly, "when we reached the grounds. Why must we fight over this? I've already said I'm sorry!"

He knew he had said the wrong thing as soon as the words escaped him and swallowed a groan of frustration when Lily wrenched her arm free. She glared at him. Anger ignited her features, leaving them vivid and bold like the colours of her house – a hint of the witch she may yet become. Were it not for his recent exposure to such intensity, it would have startled him. Storming away, Lily disappeared among the flurry of students pouring into the Entrance Hall and left him behind without a word...

**To Be Continued. **

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