Sunday, Sept. 1

Severus Snape was a man who had been wronged by the world for as long as he cared to remember.

It was as though whatever he did, whatever choice he made; life always found a way to turn it back on him. To hurt him with it.

Almost as if he was cursed. Cursed with loneliness and misery and pain.

And, in his weaker moments, he believed it. He believed in this curse; this curse that had expressed itself through specific people in his life.

First there had been his father, a man whose name he only still bore as a reminder to what he came from. The pit of despair he overcame. The man who he had watched as a boy break down his mother until she was but a husk, a shell of her former self. The man who had tried, and failed, to do the same to him.

Then there had been James Potter. Potter and his merry gang. Potter who, much like Snape’s own father, had abused and belittled him. Antagonized him. Tried to break him. Potter who had come in with his smile and his hair and wooed everyone with laughter and insipid jokes. Fooled all those little idiots and made Severus out to be the enemy.

Potter who had turned Lily against him.

Severus had thought Dumbledore would be the last. Had hoped that the man who constantly held his one misstep over his head, would be the last instrument his accursed life would wield.

Then he met Harry Potter.

In the deepest, darkest corners of his occlumency-shielded mind; on those Halloweens when he was so racked with guilt and grief that he locked himself in his quarters and avoided everyone, Severus was willing to admit that he had worried for the boy.

Petunia Evans was the worst sort of muggle after all, the kind his father had been, and though he would never say the words out loud, in those moments, in that little corner of his impregnable mind, Severus wondered just what the bloody hell Dumbledore thought he was doing leaving Lily’s son with that... woman.

But then he met the boy, and something ugly had taken root in his heart as he realized that the only thing left of Lily, his Lily, had been twisted and destroyed by bloody Potter.

Once again, even from beyond the grave, Potter had cost him Lily.

He’d barely even paid attention when the boy had made his public declaration to be with some girl.

*****

Friday, Sept. 6

Despite himself, Severus paid attention to the other teachers’ small talk about the boy over the following days. And there was a lot of it.

It sickened him.

Oh, Potter was so great!

Amazing skill in Transfiguration, just like his father.

Exquisite spellwork in Charms, just like his mo—like Lily.

Lily’s talent for Charms, and of course, Harry Potter had used it to show off.

On and on it went, the whole week;

A good, steady hand with the plants; maintains his aunt’s garden as I understand it. Green fingers on him for sure, much like the Longbottom boy.

Half my first-year classes, half the students show up half-asleep and the other half join them halfway through. I was very surprised when Potter and Granger managed to pull through. They even helped nudge some of their friends awake.

It grated. Every word. Potter this, Potter that, and the attention-seeking brat loved every moment.

Pulling along his throng of little friends; giving interviews to that imbecile, Skeeter; smiling and strutting like he was king of the castle. Severus would show him. He would knock him down a few pegs. This wasn’t back then, when Potter could get away with whatever he wanted, no, now Severus was the one with power, and he would show him.

After he apologized.

The apology wasn’t for Potter, of course, it was for Lily. Lily, whose grave he never had the courage to face.

It was why he planned it out in a way only Lily would have understood. And why he planned to say it while looking into those eyes that were the only thing of hers left that Potter had not poisoned.

But then, before he could, Potter insulted him. Made a mockery of him in front of his class with that same smile. And Severus realized that he was wrong, there was nothing of Lily in the boy. Lily had been perfect. Beyond reproach. The best thing he ever laid eyes on.

Harry Potter was just a green-eyed copy of his father.

So Severus kept his apology, refusing to sully it by using the boy as a medium. He struck back instead. Struck at that Potter ego that was always so big and so frail.

He struck back and he lost.

And it was in that moment, as he stood there with the jagged wound Potter’s words left in his heart, that he saw it.

That he saw her.

The girl that the other professors sang praises of, even as they did Potter’s. The muggleborn girl that, in less than a week, he’d seen helping her fellow Gryffindors more than once. The brilliant muggleborn girl with the kind eyes and friendly smile.

The very same one that Potter had asked to be put in Gryffindor with.

...

Why hadn’t Severus asked?

He wasn’t really sure what happened next. He remembered screaming. Remembered alcohol, and ranting at the old man for what seemed hours on end. Vague recollections; bits and pieces, that ended with him waking up some time on Saturday with a pounding headache and several hundred galleons worth of furniture damaged by Reductor Curses.

He remembered kind eyes and a friendly smile.

*****

Monday, Sept. 9

Severus began to pay more attention to the girl after that. He couldn’t not.

Hermione Granger wasn’t Lily, he knew that. No one was. But the similarities were there, and when he’d read the article about the idiot half-breed, he’d almost choked. He could see so much of the same sentiment his Lily liked to spout.

But with every new similarity he saw, the worse he felt, because it was happening again. Right before his eyes.

Another brilliant muggleborn girl was being wooed by another Potter. And when The Dark Lord returned, history would repeat itself. Because the Potters were just as much bad luck as he was. The only difference was, he paid the price for his own bad luck.

Sometime during the day, when he knew the old wizard was off the premises, he went up to the Headmaster’s Office.

The hat sat on its perch behind Dumbledore’s desk as always, and as Severus approached the ancient object, it spoke.

“Severus,” it said in greeting. The potions master didn’t reply, but the hat continued all the same, “I would tell you that The Headmaster is absent right now, but I suspect you already knew that.”

“Would you have put me in Gryffindor?” Severus asked without preamble.

Despite it not having eyes, Severus could tell that the hat stared at him deeply. Finally, it said, “if you had asked, yes. I would have.”

He could have saved her. He could have been with Lily, and he could have saved her.

All he had needed to do was say something.

Severus walked out of the office without looking back.

He would not repeat his mistake.