treachrus

[treachrus]

Severus stopped in his tracks and turned around. For a moment they both stood there watching the papers float downward until they all settled on the hallway floor. His eyes climbed back up to meet her guiltless ones. He hummed. “ Not keen, are you? Very well. I’ll adjust our communication to your level henceforth — that means, from now on. ”

Severus wondered briefly if it was worth dragging an unmotivated pureblood kicking and screaming through another day of work. He examined the papers that were back in his arms now. Pretending not to take note, or interest, in the defensive response to his idle question. “ I’ve looked at your paperwork, Miss Greengrass. It’s real enough to get you a badge and put your name on the schedule. ” He looked up at her. “ Besides. Healer Davis is interested in your perspective on his work. ” 

Severus split the heap of parchment in two and handed her one half of the papers. “ Hold these, ” he emphasized. He started down the corridor and began to explain. “ Healer Davis is renowned for his work with Mooncalf Blood. He believes the transformative nature of the moon carries the secret to eliminating blood curses – or at the very least prevent them from becoming hereditary. ” He stopped in front of the door to see their first patient. He turned to address Greengrass directly. “ Mrs. Borgin can be unpredictable. Don’t make eye contact. Don’t address her directly. And don’t be alarmed. Write down everything you see and hear. ” He made to open the door, then stopped. “ If you have any questions, now is the time to ask. ”

being forced into this apprenticeship had tested the very last of her patience, and were it not for what little kindness she could still muster after weeks of enduring it, she might have done something truly regrettable. she would’ve snapped a long time ago, forgetting that she was supposed to be always kind and sweet, and probably would’ve turned him into a toad. instead, she merely smiled, cursing severus snape silently as she quickened her stride to keep pace. yet when he passed her the heavy stack of parchment, she made no effort to catch it, letting the sheets scatter freely across the cold hospital floor. “ whoops.” at this point, malika did not even bother feigning guilt, merely standing there. idly watching as the papers settled on the ground. “ i didn’t realize, i was meant to take them.” she said, finally slipping into a pretense of innocence. “ i do hope they were not terribly important.” with a sluggish air, malika squatted down, allowing dirt to settle on the parchment as she dragged them across the dust-ridden floor before shoving the heap back into his arms. “ why ?” her brows furrowed with suspicion, tone edged with something sharper than curiosity, defensiveness, when she was meant to straight up deny it. though, it was a secret only shared as whispered rumours, the pure line of greengrass was said to be cursed. a legacy of misfortune and death said to be carried in their very blood. “ why are you asking me this ? ” malika repeated “ i’m merely an ‘apprentice’ ” lips pressing together before adding wryly, “ and not even a real one, at that . why should i know anything of it ? ”

[treachrus]

closed starter for @enchantmecnts (malika)

Severus strode through the halls of St. Mungos with single minded purpose and a distinctly irritated scowl upon his face. He had thirteen cases of blood malediction to follow up on and neither of the fellow junior researchers that were hired alongside him were feeling up to carrying their own weight around here. Both purebloods, not heirs, although they have certainly inherited the abhorrent work ethic and unearned self importance that came with their status. Lazy and entitled and accustomed to being served. If Severus did not know Lucius Malfoy personally, he would’ve thought all purebloods were this bloody useless.

“ You, ” Severus barked when he spotted the apprentice that was meant to shadow him this month. He mostly ignored her up to this point, buried in books and notes as he was. She was meant to follow the senior researcher, who passed the responsibility down to his juniors, where it fell wordlessly into his hands, as it often did. “ Come with me, ” he said, passing a heap of parchment into her arms without breaking his stride. They were making their way towards the dark curses ward. “ You are aware of the study Healer Davis is conducting on blood curses? ”

[treachrus]

Severus’ eye twitched at the awful nickname, he had no choice but to double down now. “ The Law will be on your side, Your Grace, ” Severus acknowledged with a solemn nod. “ A proportional response to an unfit greeting. All the witnesses will say so. ” He bumped their shoulders together, affection softening his features. “ Too many blood sucking fans? ” He asked sympathetically. He might envy the ease with which Regulus fit into wizarding society, while Severus fought to get a seat at the table, then continued to fight to keep it. Like a circle shoved in a square-shaped hole. But he did not envy his friend the social obligations that came with his status. “ We should stop by the Hogshead after this for a stiff drink. ”

Severus hummed, eyes darting towards the mysterious donor with his red-rimmed eyes and stilted movements. “ Fudge Sr. ’s looking a bit off-colour, ” he said thoughtfully. Something’s not right. Severus was tempted to blame the drink in the man’s hand, but Fudge didn’t just look drunk, he looked paranoid. Severus was given the impression that Mortimer Fudge walked with a knife’s tip pressed just beneath his ribcage, angled up. Any sudden move could be his last. “ Did you look at him? ” The word look had a slight inflection, as if to say, did you peek into his mind? What did you see?

regulus had barely less of a drink, he didn't have time. people were coming up to him and telling him their condolences of his father, as if he gave a fuck about that man. but he listened to them drone on before talking to someone new. regulus was good at this, whether it was networking or listening, people just needed someone to listen, and apparently that was regulus now that he was taking his father's spot. he had heard the speech, was curious of what was going on but decided against reacting, thinking that if anything was going to happen, either way regulus would be safe. when he sees severus walking up to him, he smirks, shaking his head already at whatever bullshit his friend was about to tell him. and, as always, when severus opened his mouth, regulus was about seconds away from crucio the other. "lord black?" he says with a quick laugh, he can't help but roll his eyes. "you know i don't mind crucio'ing you out in plain sight right, sevvy?" he says the nickname knowing it would piss the other off. "tonight's been fucking awful, and that speech has left something to be desired. i want a drink but i fear someone is about a hairline away from doing something fucking stupid." regulus did not curse that much, maybe it was ingrained from his mother to have proper manners out in public, but he was over it already.

[treachrus]

Just call me Snape. The words were on the tip of his tongue, eyes still downcast, teeth clenched at every slip up from the other man. Exasperated and sick of the uncertainty that characterized whatever tenuous connection they’ve cultivated in secret meetings and private smiles across the room. He’d take Snivellus at this point, it would certainly make everything so much simpler between them. But he didn’t say anything. His heart jumped, embarrassingly, with every Sev and Severus that slipped through the cracks, hope cutting through the hurt and shame and anger and fear. Stupid, useless, baseless hope. For impossible things. For things he couldn’t name, even to himself. Shame and anger filled his lungs like smoke.

He wasn’t sure himself what he warned Remus about. Only that he had a hunch, and his instincts never steered him wrong. Everything he knew about the evening’s plans he learned from glimpses into the minds of older, more trusted Death Eaters. Something was going to happen tonight. The Dark Lord will make a move. And Severus, with his watchful, darting eyes, intended to see it all unfold. If Remus insisted on throwing his lot in with Dumbledore, against reason, against wisdom, he better be on guard. Head tilted to the side, Severus hummed, half amused at the question and half curious at what lay beneath it. “ I don’t need my friends to keep me safe. As you well know, I never wandered around with a pack. ” Severus took care of his own problems, his own enemies. He never turned to the friends he did have for help. Not when he knew he had nothing to give in return. The idea he might owe someone anything regardless of their familiarity with one another was wholly detestable to him.

He was so startled by the attempt at casual conversation that his eyes jumped up to Remus’ of their own accord. He took in the other man’s appearance. The surprised look in his eyes, as if he couldn’t believe what he was saying either, and then the stubborn set to his mouth as he plowed on regardless. It was such a familiar place to be in with Remus, deeply nostalgic. How like him it was to sidestep the elephant in the room and stick a hand out for Severus to take. Or slap aside. Or curse, depending on his mood.

Later, Severus would blame nostalgia, because despite the pounding in his ears he took the hand. Brow quirked sardonically. “ At Hogwarts? As a teacher? ” Smile half bitter, half indulgent. “ Did you perhaps mistake me for a tolerant man? ” It was true that Severus tutored students in potions since second year, but most of his students were NEWTs level students and still they tested his patience beyond measure. Despite the glowing pride he felt at their improved academic performance it was no secret that his brutal methods turned more students away than otherwise. He did not tolerate incompetence. Nor a halfhearted effort. He rolled his eyes at the mention of Dumbledore. The lying, two faced coward — “ Dumbledore has nothing to worry about, I could not trust him with my life, I would hardly trust him with my livelihood. ” No matter how much time passed it seemed Severus could not shake off the resentment that clung to every mention of that incident.

he wasn’t prepared to hear his voice, let alone hold a conversation with him. the right thing to do would be to nod and walk away, but he had no interest in doing what was right. the words that left his lips came naturally, guided by a sense of familiarity and ease. “ i was aware of that, thanks, sev, ” his eyes widened as he realised what he’d said, perhaps a little too late. “ severus, ” he corrected himself, averting his gaze. for a fleeting moment, he felt surrounded by the towering shelves of the hogwarts library, and he could have sworn he caught the scent of worn pages, ink, and fresh parchment. it took more effort than he’d like to admit, pulling himself back to the present—to this reality where, much to his dismay, he stood before a ghost. he tried not to smile, because it was true. he was always drowning in apologies that, at the end of the day, meant nothing if he kept making the same mistakes. but it wasn’t really his mistakes, was it? it was him. it was the wolf. “ i was just being polite. you could try it sometime, you know? ” you used to be. with me. with lily. but those words never made it past the tip of his tongue. then, his eyes drifted, almost involuntarily, from severus’ face to his left arm, wondering if time had done enough damage for him to—no. he didn’t want to think about that. not here, not now. he looked back up, subtly wetting his lower lip, and this time, a humourless smile curled at the corners of his mouth. “ and why exactly are you giving me that advice, sev—severus? ” bloody hell. he really needed to stop doing that. “ are you close to yours as well right now? ” saying it aloud made his stomach twist. still, he raised an eyebrow, urging him to answer. you’d be close to one right now. and once again, that thought died before it could reach his lips. it was hard to stop himself from thinking like this when he hadn’t spoken to the former slytherin in so long. there was too much left unsaid—too many apologies to give, too many answers to seek. “ so, you work here now? ” oh, merlin. was he really trying to start a conversation? could he blame the wolf for that as well? maybe. so close to the full moon, he felt everything more intensely, but he knew he would have reached out either way. no matter the circumstances. no matter the consequences. “ i always thought you might end up at hogwarts, or something like that—you were good at teaching me potions. ” perhaps the impulse to say something stupid was entirely the wolf’s doing, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. after using his wand, he tucked it away, knowing he wouldn’t need it. then, he crossed his arms over his chest, as if that might shield him from any incoming blow. “ but i suppose dumbledore wouldn’t let you set foot in the castle now. ”

[treachrus]

@apparitixns

they sit and judge people (everyone thinks they're weird)

[treachrus]

Severus blinked, lips pressed into a thin line. Reality reasserted itself like a blow to the gut. He leaned back on his heels to absorb the impact. Inhaled. Exhaled. Right. It was so easy to fall back on concern for Lily. To forget they didn’t mean that to each other anymore. That he cut them loose.

But it didn’t come out of nowhere, did it? He had to remind himself it was the right thing to do, for both of them. The last year they trudged through together, they were never alone. Wherever they went the word Mudblood hung between them like a rotting corpse. Unaddressed. The smell hung behind every gesture and filled every silence. She never asked for an apology, and he never meant the ones he gave the way she wanted them. It became unbearable, this hollow echo of what they used to be. He knew where he wanted to go, and he knew she wouldn’t follow. He became certain by the end she wanted him gone as much as he wanted her to stay. Someone had to cut the cord.

Walk away, he thought. You made your choice. You can’t fix this. There's nothing left to save.

He stepped forward. “ I came out here for a smoke, ” he said. Black eyes watched her silently, like reading a well-loved book in a new language. Nothing made sense. And yet it was all so familiar. “ That’s not true, ” he said softly. “ And it’s not fair. You were never honest with me about what you really wanted. You only told me what you thought I needed to hear. I had to guess the truth. ” And usually, he guessed right. If he didn’t, he had no way of knowing.

it would be difficult to completely ignore the shifting shadow in the distance , even more so when she made their face and there the familiar burn unsteadied her . but he is sauntering towards her stance at the side door and as he gets closer , lily suddenly wishes that she could disappear without a trace . she was brave about quite a few things but this - this brought out the cowardness in her . lily evans would rather let the grief and loss swallow her whole than face the stranger that once paraded as her best friend . so her eyes don't meet his once he's distinguishable in the night - forced forward tightly as lily clears her suddenly sore throat . ❝ i could easily say the same to you , ❞ her jaw clenching at the sound of severus' voice , almost mocked at the implication that he even cared about the ways a cold breeze could hurt her like he did . she would , of course , not divulge her true intentions of her guard outside - victim to his unworldly choices to betray and disappoint the child he'd introduced into the magical world when they were younger . ❝ the peace of being alone at these kind of events is impossible , ❞ she adds sourly as her shoulders bunch up with the airy laugh she lets out before lily continues . ❝ not that you have ever minded what i wanted before . ❞

[treachrus]

Closed starter for @impcrios (regulus)

Severus nursed the same flute of champagne all evening. He was less interested in getting drunk at such events and more interested in making connections and digging up secrets. Keen eyes scanned the room, weighing the response to the Minister’s speech. Filing away names, faces, odd reactions. His eyes fell upon a familiar figure in the distance. Regulus made his way through the crowd with the haughty tilt expected of a Black, well dressed and superior, with the newly acquired family ring gleaming in the bright lights. Severus suppressed a smile as he approached. Even from afar, Regulus looked desperately unhappy to be here. 

“ Lord Black, ” Severus greeted. “ So good of you to grace these wretched halls with your presence. We are all ever so grateful to set our unworthy eyes upon your Lordship. How can we express the true depth of our gratitude? An impossible task! ”

[treachrus]

Closed starter for @apparitixns (lily evans)

Severus stepped out into the cold night air for a smoke. One day he might be able to weather a full evening of socializing without desperately needing a break, but he didn’t anticipate that happening any time soon.

He had his lighter out and a cigarette between his lips when he noticed the familiar figure by the entrance and stopped in his tracks. For a brief moment he considered taking off at a run — but that would be stupid. Forget dignity, he’d look like an idiot. And be an asshole. Which was, well, not on, at least when it came to this witch in particular. So he took hesitant steps towards his oldest friend, cigarette between his fingers, unlit, and shifted his weight from foot to foot when he was within hearing range. “ You know the party’s inside, right? Not out here in the cold? ”

[treachrus]

[treachrus]

Black-mirror eyes flickered across the room. Filing away names and faces, keeping track of the impression the Minister’s mechanical speech left behind. Lips curved with disdain at the increasingly intoxicated state of the attendees. Severus understood the importance of attending such events, especially for a poorly connected halfblood such as himself, but he did not enjoy them. Certainly not late into an evening when the party goers were deep into their cups. He stayed regardless, anticipation beating against his ears as he waited for the true purpose of this event to be revealed.

He didn’t realize who was standing in front of him until it was too late. Drinks hit the floor, silence hung like a sentence, they stared at each other for a long moment. Severus felt like he was caught. It became clear to him now he was avoiding Remus all evening. Catching glimpses across the room and steering the other way. He crossed his arms now and hummed, looking the other man over. “ Lupin, ” Severus greeted, imposing distance between them like a shield. “ Don’t act drunk, there’s not enough liquor in the building to get you there tonight. ” Severus was at the Hogwarts library buried in books as soon as he could put one foot in front of the other following his attack at the shrieking shack. At first he grasped the knowledge like a weapon: How to kill werewolves. Then true curiosity took hold, the miasma of doubts and second thoughts floating to the surface once anger and fear ran their course. His questions have since diversified into every aspect of werewolf physiology he could get his hands on. The purpose behind these questions remained vague, even to himself. Deliberately unexplored.

“ I see you’re bursting with apologies, as ever, ” Severus rolled his eyes. “ Tail between your legs, is that the term? I’d stick close to my friends tonight, if I were you. ” Despite his scathing words, Severus did not look at Remus directly. Could not. Some old, unnamed hurt groaned awake in his heart. And yet his feet would not take him elsewhere.

the heat seemed to cling to him, as though the air itself was heavy, pressing against his skin in a way that felt both suffocating and unavoidable. by this time of the night, his tie was completely undone, hanging loosely over his chest, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. the minister’s speech had been confusing. it left him mulling over the strange situation they found themselves in at this gathering, and though he tried not to give in to those thoughts, they kept creeping back into his mind from time to time. he craved a drink, though with the full moon so near, intoxication was beyond his reach. as he reached for a glass of liquor at the bar, his thoughts slipped back into familiar imaginings, leaving him oblivious to the figure behind him. when he turned, a little too assuredly, his drink met the floor instead of his lips. with a quiet sigh, he pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, as if that might steady the irritation creeping in. “ was it too much trouble to look? ” his tone came out drier than intended, and regret settled in almost instantly. he knew the first cycle was to blame, but… oh. when he lifted his gaze to apologise, he found himself staring into a face far too familiar—one he hadn’t expected to see again so soon. especially not tonight. “ sorry, ” he muttered, realising he’d been silent for too long. and then he shook his head. “ my fault, didn’t see you there. ” he added, flicking his wand to clean up the mess.

ft. 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐔𝐒 𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐄 (@treachrus ) 📍 ST MUNGO'S HOSPITAL

[treachrus]

worn and old robes, ancient books that thrummed with age and malice, faceless shapes in a sea of smoke, the cold steel of a dagger in the dark, and a long, thick cord stretched into a fogged distance, hanging over an abyss. on each side is the vast wall of a rocky mountain. the fall is steep and endless. balance is key.

Basics

name: Severus (Severed. Cut off.) Dynastes (Dynastic prince) Snape. Eileen was not subtle when naming her son. Even in such a matter she let her spite lead her way. Severed prince, indeed.

age: 24.

gender / orientation: cis male, demisexual, biromantic.

allegiance: unmarked Death Eater.

occupation: junior researcher at St. Mungos.

blood-status: halfblood.

house: slytherin.

Appearance

faceclaim: Richard Harmon.

eye & hair color: Black & black.

height: 5'9.5"

other notable features: thin, sallow face. silver earrings. all-black attire.

Magic

patronus: wolf. ( Associations : unchecked all-consuming hunger, violence, lone wolves, thriving in spite of the odds, a sense of community that comes hand in hand with a strict hierarchy. Wrongs done to and by. Pain endured and doled out. )

specialties: potions, mind arts, spellcrafting, warding, dark arts, defense, ancient runes.

Personality

Severus Snape has the personality of a sentient pack of razors and the looks to match. Everything he picked up since he was young he used as a weapon: his wit, his words, his mind, his spells, his potions, his silence, his secrets. He feels more at ease surrounded by enemies who think him an ally and who would set untold violence upon him should his true colors reveal themselves than he does surrounded by friends and family. He values his solitude and his privacy above all else and will defend it with great hostility. He is a liar and a cheat who holds himself to a high standard of dignity and honor.

His disposition never inspires friendliness, and hardly invites approach. He prefers being left to his books and his potions, unless there is a task to complete or a matter that requires his urgent attention. Snape is viciously clever, scrutinizing, observant, and patient. The full brunt of his focus is sharp and piercing and nigh unbearable. He has a scholar’s heart and the drive to follow it through to the end, wherever that end may be. He entered the race, as he sees it, late and heavily disadvantaged, and has thus operated and continues to operate with the understanding that he is the lowly underdog, that success only comes to those willing and ready to fight for it. And he fights, and he fights, and he fights.

Despite all evidence to the contrary, Snape is loyal to a fault. His loyalty is difficult to earn, but impossible to lose. He has a thorough, comprehensive, all-or-nothing approach towards loyalty — you either have it or you don’t. All of him or none of him. He will give you his soul – his strength, his work, his honor, his dignity, his life, his word – or he will give you nothing. Thus far, the only one who has his true loyalty is Lily Evans.

The Snapes

Eileen Prince was a true daughter of her line, and carried the worst of the traits of her family with her: she was stubborn, proud, obstinate, and filled with such vicious spite there was hardly room for anything else within her.

Despite this, she loved her son. Yes, he was the reason her secret and exciting teenage dalliance turned to lifelong imprisonment, and that was enough reason for her to never look upon him with open affection. Yes, he was a halfblood, and not the proper sort with a good family name and upbringing good enough to overlook his blood status. But he was HER son, HER blood, and that mattered to her still. She watched the boy complete every task, from taking his first steps to tying his own shoes to skipping stones by the river, with all the intensity of focus and full-hearted diligence expected of a Prince. She watched the whelp pick fights with kids twice his size for perceived slights, watched him lose more fights than win and still go back to school the next day with his chin tipped up in defiance, back straight and eyes forward, ready to take on anything. She watched, and felt a wave of such fierce pride over this boy that was half a Prince, this boy that was her son.

She taught him everything he needed to know about magic. Everything he would need to know to fight the currents, knowing this life she gave him would be unkind, an uphill battle from the beginning to the end. She taught him the rules of their society, the names of the families that mattered and the families that didn’t. She taught him his spells and his potions, his letters and his numbers, his history. Her son, the half-blood whelp, will claw his way back up from where she’d fallen, she will see to it herself.

Tobias fought her on this, as he fought her on every other matter that had anything to do with magic. And she fought him just as hard: their shouts shook the walls of their little house on Spinner’s End, sent the neighbor’s lips aflutter with excited gossip, and sent their son scuttling beneath the bed or the table or out in the park until the shouting stopped. But she fought: her son would not meet the vipers unequipped.

Severus grew up knowing two things above all else: that he was less-than, and that he must earn the right to be treated with respect. These were the two overarching lessons of his childhood, but they were not the only ones: Nothing comes for free. No one will give you anything without expecting something in return. There’s no inherent value in someone that will grant them happiness, there’s simply luck, and lack thereof. There’s wanting things and taking them. You take what you want and you make your life better, or you don’t. You fight for your improvement or you take the punches laying down.

Severus never stayed down for long. He knew what he wanted — or thought he did — and what he wanted was to be better than everyone else. And that meant fighting for his place, and fighting to keep it. He wanted his mother to be proud of him — desperately, more than he dared to admit — and that meant drinking in her every word with rapt attention, and taking all her lessons to heart. And he did.

Eileen was the predominant influence in Severus’ childhood, but she was not the only one. Tobias Snape spent most of his days at work, or at the pub, or at a friend’s house: anything to keep him away from the trap that was his wife and his son. He made no secret of who he blamed for the unsatisfying course his life took, shouting it loud enough everyone in the neighborhood knew his every secret desire and every selfish thought: that he wanted an obedient wife, that he wanted a proper lad who played sports and worked the machines like a real man, that he was trapped in a marriage with a lying cheat and a useless son. The truth of the matter was that Tobias Snape felt inadequate: his wife was a witch who came from money and prestige and had to settle for a wretch like himself. She did not need him to provide for her or care for her, she did not depend on her husband like a wife should. His son, the wizard, who grew up in the same dirty clothes and sketchy neighborhood that his father did, looked down his nose at his father’s craft. Little pauper held himself like a little prince, like Tobias and Spinner’s End and honest work and playing ball and carrying tools was all beneath him, like this was all simply a prelude to a better life up ahead.

Severus knew since he was very young that he could never be enough for both of his parents. That pleasing one meant angering the other, that he had to choose whose approval he’d have to chase (and chase, and chase) and whose displeasure he’d weather for the rest of his life. It was not easy. But it was, in the end, a much simpler choice than some might expect.