His Future

Severus Snape and the Unseen Path

Severus Snape was in his final year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Recruited by Voldemort and his Death Eaters, he had been promised power, knowledge, and an apprenticeship in Potions once he joined their ranks. His mark, the Dark Mark, was set to be bestowed upon him after graduation.

The first morning of his final year arrived, and as much as Severus despised the sentiment, he felt a flicker of anticipation. It wasn't excitement—no, not for him. But there was something to be said for the certainty that his future was taking shape. With his robes as dark as his mood, he made his way to the Great Hall for breakfast.

As he entered, laughter rang out behind him, and he could feel it even before he turned to face it. There, by the Gryffindor table, were the Marauders—James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin—and Lily Evans. It had been two years since he had lost her, his closest friend, the one person who might have understood him.

James Potter, the insufferable Gryffindor prat, noticed Severus staring. With typical arrogance, he pulled Lily close, planting a kiss on her cheek. She blushed, and in a move that made Severus' stomach twist with something like envy, she returned his embrace.

Severus' gaze dropped to the floor, his feet already moving toward the far end of the hall. He couldn't bear to watch them anymore. Taking his seat at the Slytherin table, he felt the weight of eyes on him, as though the entire room had turned into an observatory, and he was the subject of their study.

His eyes flicked up to meet Potter's and Black's—those two troublemakers who never seemed to grow tired of tormenting him. They were whispering to each other, no doubt plotting some new form of humiliation. Severus clenched his jaw, recognizing the familiar sensation of being the target of their amusement. It was pointless to try and figure out what they were planning; it was far safer to simply leave before they decided to make a spectacle of him.

Later, in the Potions classroom, Severus settled into his usual seat. His book, 'Advanced Potion-Making', was already open before him, and his quill moved furiously across the pages, marking corrections and jotting down notes. Potions was a sanctuary for him, a place where he could lose himself in the precise measurements, the rhythmic steps of brewing, the intricate dance of ingredients. Here, no one could distract him.

But even in his concentration, he could hear the unmistakable sound of footsteps. Two pairs, slow and deliberate, drawing nearer. He didn't need to look up. He knew who it was.

"Snivellus, all alone again," Sirius Black's voice broke through the quiet of the room. Severus didn't flinch. He didn't even acknowledge the insult.

James Potter laughed, the sound mocking and cruel. "Maybe we should help him out, Pads. Poor Snivellus looks lonely. He could use some company, don't you think?"

Severus didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he continued writing, his fingers tightening ever so slightly around his quill.

Black's voice lowered, a sneer evident in his tone. "It's pathetic, Snivellus. The way you watch her. The way you watch us."

Severus' hand hovered above his book. He could feel their eyes on him, the familiar sting of their presence. Lily. Potter. Black. His past. His future. He had learned long ago to ignore them, but there were days when it wasn't so easy.

James' voice cut through the stillness again, this time more venomous. "You think you'll ever get her, don't you? My Lily? It's pathetic. You're nothing but a joke."

Severus' gaze remained fixed on his book. His heart beat loudly in his chest. He knew what was coming. He always knew.

Sirius moved closer, leaning over Severus' shoulder with a menacing grin. "I've got just the thing for you, Snape," he whispered, his breath cold against Severus' ear. Before Severus could react, Black jabbed his wand into Severus' ribs. "Perficere animam meam."

Severus felt the spell strike him, a jolt of magic seizing him from the inside. His body went rigid, his breath catching in his throat. It wasn't a hex he recognized—not a standard curse, not something taught in Hogwarts' classrooms. But the dark magic pulsed through him like a tightening noose, and then, just as quickly, he felt a violent tug in his chest.

It was like being yanked through space, as though a portkey had activated without warning.

When the world stopped spinning, Severus opened his eyes. The room around him was unfamiliar—clean, bright, and modern, with high ceilings and polished floors. He was no longer in Hogwarts.

He glanced around, dazed, trying to make sense of what had happened. To his left, a brunette witch sat at a desk, flipping through a book. He stared at her, trying to place the face—her features were kind, though confused. The room was silent, save for the faint hum of distant conversations.

The witch looked up, meeting his gaze.

The shock on her face was immediate. Her brown eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. Then, without warning, she screamed. The sound was sharp and sudden, like a dagger to his chest.

Severus recoiled instinctively, stumbling backward. His chair tipped over, crashing to the floor with a loud thud.

*Translation of spell: To complete my soul*