The Slytherin common room was silent, save for the distant drip of water echoing through the stone corridors. Firelight danced low in the hearth, painting the serpent-emblazoned walls with flickering shadows. The hour was well past curfew.
And Severus Snape was awake.
He sat rigidly in one of the high-backed chairs, hands clasped tightly in his lap, face half-lit by flame. The mark on his neck—faint, but there—throbbed with a strange, steady heat. Not magic. Not quite. Something worse.
Memory.
The scent of Lucius still clung to his collar, faint and expensive.
Severus swallowed hard and reached for the nearest book, opening it blindly. He didn't read the page.
He didn't need to.
His thoughts were louder than any words inked in print.
Lucius had kissed him. Again. And Severus had let him.
He shouldn't have. He had told himself he wouldn't.
But there had been something in the way Lucius had looked at him—like a creature already claimed, already conquered—and for one terrifying moment, Severus hadn't resisted.
He had leaned in.
Not because he trusted Lucius.
But because, for a second, he had wanted someone to want him.
Even if it was wrong.
Especially because it was.
And it would've stayed secret—buried in that suffocating dungeon heat—if not for the faint, almost imperceptible sound that followed hours later: the click of a door in the dark.
High above, in the Astronomy Tower, Lillian stood with the wind in his hair and a potion in his hand.
He hadn't meant to drink it.
But he did.
And the moment he whispered "Severus Snape," the magic surged through the stones like lightning through bone.
He didn't know what he had unleashed.
Not yet.
Meanwhile, in the Gryffindor common room, James Potter leaned against the windowsill, gaze sharp as a curse. His robes were rumpled, one hand twirling his wand between his fingers. He hadn't slept either.
He didn't need sleep. Not when he was this angry.
"Snape," he said aloud, the name hitting his tongue like poison.
The thought of Lillian rejecting him had been bitter enough—but that rejection had led him straight to the library, where he had seen something worse:
Severus.
With ink-stained hands, tracing dusty spells.
And Lillian had looked at Severus like he was made of moonlight and meaning.
Not James.
Never James.
James clenched his jaw and let his wand drop with a soft thud on the sill.
If Snape wanted to play with fire—James would show him what it meant to burn.
The next day arrived brittle and sharp.
Students moved like flocks of crows through the courtyard, cloaks pulled tight, laughter cruel in the morning chill. Gossip was currency, and the latest exchange was loud.
"Did you hear? Snape hexed Mulciber again."
"Someone's going to curse him back one day."
"I bet it'll be Potter."
"Or Lillian," someone added, half-laughing, "if Snape doesn't watch his step."
Lillian passed them without a word.
His expression was unreadable, sharp as broken glass, as he descended into the dungeons like a wraith.
Severus wasn't in Potions that morning.
He didn't show up to lunch either.
And James noticed.
So did Lillian.
And for the first time since first year, they both wanted the same thing.
To find Severus Snape.
Somewhere Below the Castle
Severus lay curled in the far corner of an unused classroom, his robes dust-streaked, fingers twitching.
He couldn't speak. Could barely think.
The curse had been subtle.
But not gentle.
It had wrapped around his magic like a chokehold, squeezing until even his own name scraped against his thoughts like glass.
He didn't remember collapsing.
But he knew who had done it.
There was only one person cruel enough. Clever enough.
James Potter.
Later That Night – Gryffindor Corridor
"You don't look so smug today," Lillian said quietly.
James turned from the stairwell, his grin slow and cold.
"Didn't realise you were watching me so closely, sweetheart."
Lillian didn't flinch. "I saw what you did."
"Did you?" James took a lazy step forward. "Or are you just angry because Snape didn't kiss you?"
Silence. The air between them cracked.
Lillian's expression didn't change. "You'll regret it."
James smirked. "Funny. I was just thinking the same thing about you."