Magic and Mystery Coil by Allegory_for_Hatred

A Good Start

Severus Snape started every year with a precise lesson plan written out and a no-nonsense attitude. He did not make accommodations for struggling students and he did not fall behind in his lessons. Problem students quickly learned that he would neither be accepting late assignments nor would he be giving extra credit. If you didn't do the work, you failed. Simple as that.

Until this year, that was.

Because this year, Severus would be teaching an extra class all for just one student. One student, who Severus knew had never done his homework and rarely, if ever, participated in class. If it were any other student, Severus would have scoffed in their face and told them, "at this point, it would be more prudent for you to just drop out."

And yet...

There was just something about Dazai Osamu.

Severus couldn't put his finger on just what that something was. There were any number of things that made the boy stand out. For starters, Dazai was awfully blasé about failing all of his classes. He openly attempted to flunk out, seeming not to care for the stakes whatsoever. Outside of academics, the boy had pulled together the most unusual friend group Severus had ever seen in Hogwarts' history. But was that enough to twist Severus' morals into a knot?

There was more to Dazai. A lot more. Most of it, Severus was in the dark about. But that didn't mean he hadn't clocked something going on with that boy. The way he wrapped himself up in bandages, for one. Or how he dodged eating a full meal. Or tensed up under the eyes of an adult.

And then there was the rest of it.

The Quirrell situation. The Daily Prophet. Albus' blatant disregard for the boy's safety.

Dazai's disregard for his own safety.

And there was a burnt letter sitting in Severus' office desk. He'd read it at least a hundred times over, but gleaned nothing from it save for an overwhelming sense of unease. No leads on Dazai's home life, except for that Snape was fairly sure it wasn't a good one.

Moreover, Dazai Osamu could not do magic. Enrolled in a magical school, yet violently ill whenever he attempted to spell cast. He could cast, Severus knew. But at what cost?

Yes, Severus thought, Dazai Osamu was a student who seemed to fall short of normal at every turn. And thus, against his better judgement, Severus made accommodations. He wrote up a new lesson plan, set aside time to teach one-on-one, and looked closer than he ever had before.

And still, guilt boiled in his gut.

Severus took a long sip of his coffee, drowning out the bitter pit in his stomach with something even more bitter. Disgust spitting across his face, Severus leaned across the table to reach for the sugar cubes. He grabbed four. They fell into his mug with a splash.

"Is the coffee not to your liking, Severus?"

The potion's professor took a sip before glancing up. Sweetness warmed his tongue. "It is now," he grumbled.

Albus Dumbledore looked down at him, amused, before taking a seat. He floated a cup of tea into his hand. Although Severus normally enjoyed the more mellow tang of tea in the morning, he could already feel exhaustion nipping at his veins. Severus was blind as to how Albus could start the year off without something stronger to jumpstart him.

Around them, the Great Hall was silent. It would be several minutes still before the early risers stumbled out of their common rooms. The students weren't even awake yet, and Severus was ready to call it a day. He took another long draw of his coffee, willing it to give him energy.

"I have a good feeling about this year," Albus said suddenly.

Severus turned up a brow. "You can't be serious."