Chapter Text
Severus adored his mother as a child. She had been his sole source of comfort, the one who fed him, who whispered stories into his hair as she tucked him in, who praised him when he got good grades. But as he grew older, her failings began to outweigh the small mercies she had done for him. Eileen Snape was spineless, wilfully blind, lacking in common sense, and her steadfast refusal to help either herself or her son, to use her God-given abilities to defend them against Tobias's tyranny, hardened Severus against her. For a witch so determined to live her life free of magic, she had taken no particular pains to learn how to manage even the simplest of Muggle tasks. She couldn't cook, clean, or sew without the aid of charms, and Tobias hadn't done anything to teach her except beat her like she was a particularly stupid dog. Tobias himself refused to sully his hands with "women's work" (not that he bothered much with men's work either), leaving the bulk of the household chores to land on Severus's shoulders. As a result, the house was continually filthy, and clothing sloppily scrubbed in an old washtub and left spotty. He was better at sewing; Severus had always enjoyed fine, detailed work. He was best at cooking, finding it close enough to potions that he minded it less, and he at least got to experiment with it a little.
Severus was determined to be nothing like his parents. He had brains, talent, and ambition. He wasn't going to turn into a lazy drunkard like his father, or a meek, cowardly mouse like his mother. So, it rather galled him to realize that he had made the same stupid mistake Eileen had in her youth by spreading his legs for the first boy who had come along and whispered sweet words to him.
David was in Ravenclaw and had been his partner in their N.E.W.T.-level potions class. The class hadn't been very large, and had a good mixture of students from all houses. Lily was there, of course, and so was (ugh) Potter. They had become inseparable this past year, so of course she partnered with him. Not that she would ever lower herself to partnering with Severus ever again, not since fifth year. "Her loss is my gain," David said with a charming smile.
There was the unpleasant fact that David was Muggleborn, but he was the only Slytherin taking the class, and what his housemates didn't know wouldn't hurt them. Besides, he liked David, despite himself, and Severus tried very hard to hate him. Even now, he couldn't bring himself to hate him, though that wouldn't stop Severus from cursing him given half the chance. David was intelligent, and funny, and more importantly he laughed at Severus's jokes which, in Severus's humble opinion, just proved how intelligent and funny David was. He had let David trap him against the shelves in the Restricted Section, kissed him, let his hands roam wherever he wanted, and when David suggested meeting at the Astronomy Tower, Severus agreed. Everyone knew what the Astronomy Tower was used for, and it wasn't stargazing. David had already laid out a blanket for him when he arrived, and there was a bottle of firewhiskey. Severus drank more than he should have, his nerves getting the better of him, which made his stomach twist when David pressed him against the floor.
So, one could imagine how he felt when, at graduation, David had waved awkwardly to him and said, "I'll see you around sometime, Snape," before turning back to his friends.
Tobias didn't think much of his son. He was at best a sissy, and a freak at worst. He had been looking forward to the day that good-for-nothing brat would finally graduate from that school of his and move out like Severus had always threatened he would ("Promise?" Tobias used to say, with a sneer). But here he was, sitting at his table and never again to return to Hogwarts, glaring sullenly at his plate. "Don't you have a job yet?" Tobias demanded. Severus lifted his gaze upward and, somehow or another, managed to glare even harder.
"Tobias–" Eileen spoke up, but one waving hand silenced her.
"I bust my ass putting food on this table, and all he does is sit there–"
"He helps me around the house," Eileen insisted.
"Women's work!" Tobias sneered. "That's all he's good for!"
"So good at it, in fact, that I've even taken over childbirth," Severus drawled out. At Tobias's confused look, he decided to help him out and clarified, "I'm pregnant."
Severus only just managed to duck out of the way of the beer bottle thrown at his head.
Severus had to slowly disentangle himself from Lucius. It was one of the hardest things he had ever done, and it hurt like a limb being torn from his body. The pain burrowed deep, and in some ways it was worse than when Lily abandoned him. The disintegration of their friendship had been coming for a long time, eaten away by the cancer that was Hogwarts and houses and Marauders and blood purity. This time, with Lucius, it was more sudden. Unexpected.
Lucius had done nothing but sing his praises to the Dark Lord and his perfect N.E.W.T.s had done much to pique his interest. Lucius tried to set up an informal meeting, but Severus forced himself to decline. He was busy working on his apprenticeship, mother is sick, blah blah blah. Eventually, Lucius stopped trying and the Dark Lord's interest waned. There were other, better bred lordling sons to recruit. It hurt to know that Severus really was just that unimportant. Half of him wanted to write Lucius, apologize and beg him to talk to the Dark Lord on his behalf, but luckily the rational part of his brain won out. He couldn’t appear before them with a belly swollen with a mudblood’s seed. Even if they somehow managed to look past his shameless debasement, he had betrayed their cause twice over. First, with his own disgusting birth, and secondly with this child growing inside him.
“You should contact the father. A child deserves two parents. Two married parents,” Eileen reprimanded as Severus attached another letter listing his qualifications to Astrid, the beautiful barn owl Lucius gave him for his seventeenth birthday. He watched her fly off, and then turned to his mother, a sneer fixed permanently on his face.
“Why? So I can end up just like you?” He asked. He had already made one stupid mistake, he wasn’t going to chain himself to a man who neither wanted nor respected him. See you around sometime. Hah, Severus hadn’t heard so much as a whisper from David. Severus was a useful partner in Potions and a convenient hole to stick his dick in, and that was it.
Eileen gathered up what was left of her dignity and glared at her son. There was something of the old Pureblood girl still in her as she hotly declared, “Your father isn’t perfect, but he did what was right! I’ll not have a harlot for a son! I want you out of this house by the end of this week! You can join the other whores in Knockturn Alley for all I care!”
“You want me gone? Fine! But you’re never going to see me again! Not me, or my child! I won’t even go to your funeral! Tobias will kill you one day! He’ll kill you!” Severus screamed back as Eileen slammed shut his bedroom door behind her.
Astrid returned sometime after dusk, bearing a letter with an invitation to interview. Severus smiled as he scanned it. For weeks now he had been applying to every potions shop in Wizarding Britain, and each time he had been turned down. Ever since he brewed his first potion, he knew this was what he was meant to do. It made his magic sing. He was going to get his Potion Mastery, but first he needed work experience and money to pay for his apprenticeship. At this point, he wasn’t picky. He’d sweep floors if he had to. But so far, despite his glowing school records, he’d been declined each and every time. It didn’t make sense. Was Lucius pulling strings just to be petty? Had it somehow gotten out that he was pregnant and unmarried? What would he do if he couldn’t get a job? He had to get out of this house. His mother might eventually take back her threat, but Severus knew he was on borrowed time. Tobias tolerated his presence because he still half-believed the pregnancy was some disgusting joke; his eyes would flicker to his son’s stomach, taking note of the still-smooth planes, and nod to himself, pleased. What would happen when he started to show? When he gave birth to the fucking thing? Tobias wouldn’t be able to delude himself any longer.
The shop he had gotten an interview at was small, out of the way, and not even technically a potions shop, but merely a supplier of rare and specialized ingredients. It was tucked in a side street off of Diagon Alley, a skinny, cramped building so plain and small that the eye glazed over it. Severus had taken special care of his appearance, scrubbing his skin and hair within an inch of his life. He was wearing his best robes, the robes Lucius had bought for him, the ones he had planned to wear for a meeting that never took place, and swept inside the shop. A blonde, skinny man rapidly approaching middle aged looked up from his newspaper at his entrance. “Hello? How can I help you?”
“I’m here to speak with Mr Abernathy. I have an interview with him. My name is Severus Snape,” Severus said, smiling.
The man’s gaze darted away, staring into some dusty corner above his shoulder. “Oh, err, yes, hello. I’m Nathaniel Abernathy. I am very sorry you had to come all this way, but the position is no longer available. We – that is, my wife and I – ran the numbers and, well, it’s best if we kept the number of staff where it currently is.”
Severus let the smile fall. No, this couldn’t be happening. Not again. His hands unconsciously folded themselves in front of his stomach, hiding the child away even though he wasn’t yet showing. “Mr Abernathy, have I done something–”
“Oh, no, nothing at all!” Abernathy flapped his hand nervously. “Just downsizing!”
“Mr Abernathy, please, I want to obtain my mastery and I’ve been turned away from everywhere else. You said you were impressed with my scores.”
Abernathy fiddled with his spectacles. “Yes, well, circumstances have changed, I–” He glanced back up, and seeing the desperation in Severus’s eyes, he sighed. “I’m sorry, but you’ve been blacklisted.”
Severus felt his heart freeze. “Blacklisted?”
“You have to understand, Potter’s Potions is one of our best customers. Their Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion alone pays the rent on this place. There’s not many potioneers around here that require such rare ingredients like Asian Dragon Hair.” Abernathy looked at him sympathetically. “I’m sorry, but you have other talents, I’m sure. Second best isn’t so bad, is it? And you can still brew, just… not professionally, and not here.”
Severus turned and walked out. His entire body felt numb. Life without Lily, without Lucius, without love– could be bearable if only he was allowed to brew. That, above all, had been the one thing he wanted out of this life. And James Potter– Severus heard of Potter’s father, Fleamont, and the potion company he had built from the ground up. The man was a Potions Master in his own right, one of the leading figures in the industry. Potter must have asked his father to have him blacklisted, as one last victory over Snivellus. Why? The man had already won. He’d gotten Lily, had so thoroughly humiliated and beaten Severus down that by the end of fifth year Severus had stopped nosing into their business, had done nothing at all but try to keep his head down, and now he had taken his potions away from him too?
The rage and anxiety mixed with his lingering morning sickness, and Severus turned to brace one hand against the shop and vomited into the gutter. He straightened up and didn’t bother to cast scourgify, only wiped at his mouth with his sleeve. He couldn’t dwell on it, not right now. He had to prioritize. First things first: he needed money. He needed a job, any job will do for now. Worry about his mastery later, focus on getting out of his father’s house and into his own flat.
Severus stumbled out of the alley and cast his eye around at the shops surrounding him, until his eyes landed on a Help Wanted sign posted in C&Q Tailoring. Well, he could sew, couldn’t he? Maybe not fancy sewing, but it got the job done, and Severus was willing to learn. He plastered on that fake smile Lucius forced him to practice and strode into the shop, hoping that whoever was in charge wouldn’t notice the lingering traces of vomit on his sleeve.
The building was as somber on the inside as it was on the outside. It was papered in a dark blue, which took on a sickly hue underneath the gas lights. The robes on display were the sort of dour, old-fashioned things favored by the dour, old-fashioned men that ran the Ministry. He could feel the eyes of every customer turn to him as he made his way to the counter, scrutinizing him in a way that made him glance down at his stomach. "How can I help you, sir?" The shopgirl asked as he stepped up next to her.
"I'm here about the 'Help Wanted' sign."
She motioned him behind the counter and opened a door that was half-hidden behind merchandise. It opened up into a hallway. "Right this way," she said, pointing down the hall. "You'll want Mr Quentin. His office is the last door on the left."
Severus thanked her and followed her instructions.
As he approached the door, he could hear voices arguing. Before he could lift his hand to knock, the door opened and Severus found himself standing face-to-face with a handsome man perhaps only a few years older than himself. The scowl on his face melted away as his gaze ran over him, from the top of his head to the tips of his boots. A sharp smile bloomed across his face as he announced, "Severus Snape!"
Severus's expression twisted. He felt unbalanced at the knowledge this stranger knew him by sight. "I don't know you. How do you know my name?"
The man barked out a laugh. "Oh, you're famous at Hogwarts!"
Severus flushed at this. He had a sinking feeling that the man wasn't referring to his academic success.
"I was in Gryffindor, a couple of years ahead of you," he said and knowing he was a Gryffindor, that he had probably heard all kinds of stories coming out of the mouths of Potter and Black, nearly made Severus turn around and march right back out of the shop, job or no job.
The man's grin grew sharper at the darkening expression on Severus's face and he held out his hand for Severus to shake, which he reluctantly took. "Anthony Quentin," he said. "What can I do for you?"
"I'm here about the 'Help Wanted' sign–"
"Oh, yes, you'll need to speak with my father, right through here." Quentin swept him into the office where Severus saw an older version of the man who currently had his hand against his back seated at a desk. Quentin the Elder was balding, his flesh expanding over the tight collar of his robes, and the lines in his face made him look perpetually worried, but there was still something beautiful waiting to be excavated from his swollen face.
"Father, I'd like you to meet Severus Snape. He's here to apply for Lucia's position."
Mr Quentin did not look pleased to find his son still there when he had just stormed out of his office not a handful of seconds ago, but he humored them nonetheless. "Do you have any experience dealing with customers, Mr Snape?"
Severus Snape, forced to smile pleasantly while entitled customers spat abuse? That was a recipe for disaster. "Not so much," he said delicately. "But I've a decent hand at sewing."
"I'm not looking for a tailor, Mr Snape. I need a clerk."
"Come on, Father, Matilda is always complaining about how overworked she is," the man's son said. "She could use the extra help."
Mr Quentin sighed. "I'll take him on– as a trial case. If Matilda doesn't like him…" He let the sentence linger.
Severus smiled. "You won't regret it," he said, sounding more confident in his abilities than he was. He thanked the man, shook hands with them, promised to arrive bright and early the next morning, and left the office, the son following close on his heels.
Severus hoped the man would leave him and go about his business, but he seemed content to follow Severus right out of the shop and into Diagon Alley proper. "Sluggy used to sing your praises," Quentin said mildly. "Even to us in the upper years. It was always, 'Snape can brew this perfectly, and he's a third year! Why is it so difficult for you?' I figured you'd go for your mastery as soon as you graduated."
"Yes, well, circumstances change, Mr Quentin," Severus curtly answered.
"Please, call me Anthony."
"No, I don't think I will."
"I can order you to," Quentin said with a smile. "You do know that I'm your supervisor, don't you?"
Severus threw him an ugly look and lifted his wand, lighting it up with a lumos to summon the Knight Bus. He climbed inside, refusing to look back at the man, though he could still hear Quentin's laughter following him all the way back to Cokeworth.