The second Wednesday of November, and the weather was still unreasonably fine.
Snape's mood was not. No particular reason, though if pressed, the weather itself counted. Sunshine made everything look harsh.
The bell rang. He left the Potions classroom and headed toward the dormitory.
The corridor was crowded. Younger students ran past, their footsteps bouncing off the stone walls. Older ones drifted by in clusters of two and three, chatting, laughing.
Snape walked with his head down, steps quick. He didn't want to talk to anyone. Didn't want to see anyone.
At the third-floor corner, the students ahead slowed, then parted.
He looked up.
James Potter stood in the middle of the corridor, spinning his wand between his fingers. Sirius leaned against the wall, hands in his pockets, relaxed. Lupin and Peter stood a few paces back. Lupin was frowning. Peter's shoulders were hunched.
Snape's stride hitched for half a step, then continued.
"Snape..."
James's voice chased him from behind, the last syllable stretched long, brimming with the excitement of someone who'd found a new toy.
He glanced back at Sirius and gave him a wink. Sirius grinned, settling in to watch.
Snape kept walking as though he hadn't heard.
James turned back, took a step forward, and pitched his voice loud enough for the corridor. "Where'd you find that robe? A dustbin on Spinner's End?"
Snape stopped. He didn't turn around, but his wand was already in his hand.
"Your mum alter it for you?" James took another step, twirling his wand. "Fits nicely, I'll give her that. Shame about the fabric."
The words came through Snape's teeth. "Move."
James snorted. "Or what?"
No more hesitation. Snape spun, wand rising in the same motion. "Stupefy!"
James dodged sideways. The spell grazed his shoulder, struck the wall, and ricocheted.
"Oh, it's a fight?" His wand snapped forward and a Rictusempra flew out.
Snape sidestepped, blocked the second spell with a Protego, and whipped his wand back. An Impediment Jinx hit the floor at James's feet.
James jumped clear but stumbled on the landing.
Lupin stood where he was. He didn't help. He didn't intervene. He only watched, brow furrowed. Peter shrank behind him, wand still in his pocket.
Sirius stayed against the wall, posture as lazy as ever, but his eyes tracked Snape's wand without blinking.
Snape fired another spell that caught James in the shoulder.
The impact knocked him back two steps. His spine hit the wall. He steadied himself, rolled his shoulder, and his grin widened.
"That all you've got?" Wand aimed at Snape, chin raised, mouth pulled to one side.
Snape said nothing. His brows knotted tight, and his wand came up again.
That was when Sirius pushed off the wall. His wand slipped from his pocket and a spell flew out.
Non-verbal. Grey and fast. Coming from the flank.
Snape was facing James. He couldn't turn in time. The spell struck his side.
He didn't fall, but his body lurched and half his shield shattered.
He staggered back, eyes vicious, and aimed at Sirius. A streak of red light shot out, quick and savage.
Not quick enough. Sirius tilted his head, the spell sailing past, his expression unchanged.
James seized the opening and sent two more spells at once.
One hit Snape in the chest. The other grazed his arm, tearing his robe open. The skin beneath flushed red immediately.
Snape gritted his teeth and fired back. The spell caught James in the leg. One knee buckled, hitting the floor, but he was up again in an instant.
Snape was cornered now, back flat against stone, wand raised, arm trembling.
Sirius sent another spell at his feet. Snape jumped sideways, straight into the path of James's next curse, which struck him square in the back.
He pitched forward and hit the floor face-first.
James lowered his wand and laughed. "Can't get up?"
Snape braced his hands against the stone and pushed. His arms shook badly. He managed a few inches before collapsing again.
Lily came running from the other end of the corridor.
She saw Snape on the ground, robe covered in dust, face down, hands still pressed to the floor.
She crouched beside him. "Severus..."
He lifted his head.
The face looking up at her was grey. Not pale, not dirty. Grey going on black, something that seemed to seep from beneath the skin itself, spreading from his forehead to his chin. Every inch of it dark and sallow.
Lily's voice pitched high. "Your face..."
He didn't let her finish. His expression was unreadable under all that grey. He dragged himself to his feet, shook off her hand, and staggered down the corridor in the other direction.
Lily stood and turned to face James, her own face scarlet, voice sharp with anger. "You..."
"He started it." James slid his wand back into his pocket, utterly indifferent.
She stared at him, chest heaving. "Two against one."
Sirius brushed his sleeve. "Wouldn't be the first time."
She whipped around to glare at him, breathing fast. Something rose to her lips, then died there.
There was no point. Not with people like this.
Lupin walked over, touched James's shoulder, and said quietly, "Let's go."
James glanced at Lily, said nothing more, shrugged, and turned away. Sirius followed. Peter scurried after them, neck tucked between his shoulders.
Lily stood alone, staring in the direction Snape had disappeared. She stayed like that for a while.
Then she dropped her gaze, turned, and walked the other way.
---
Snape shoved open the empty dormitory door. The fireplace was burning low.
He stood in front of the mirror.
The face staring back was grey-black. Forehead, cheekbones, chin, the color sinking deeper in layers, growing darker toward the neck.
He rubbed his face with one hand. It didn't come off. His fingers dragged across the skin and the grey stayed, as though it had grown into the flesh.
He stared at his reflection for two seconds, then raised his wand. "Reparo."
Nothing changed.
"Finite."
Nothing.
"Scourgify."
The face in the mirror was still grey, still darkening.
He lowered his wand. Stood there. Pressed his fingertips hard against the glass, leaving a small patch of fog.
Potter's spells he could identify. Rictusempra, Locomotor Mortis, Langlock. Textbook stuff. None of them should have done this.
The problem was Black's Non-verbal Spell. He had no idea what it was.
He stared at the grey face in the mirror and turned that spell over in his mind, again and again, and came up with nothing.
Could have been an interaction between multiple spells. Some strange reaction.
His jaw clenched. Fists tightened, loosened, tightened again. The words ground out of his throat.
"Damn Potter."
"Damn Black."
He glared at the grey face in the mirror, chest heaving, wanting to curse them more, but his mind was blank. Nothing else came.
He thought for a long time. Then he remembered the whitening potion.
Not a difficult brew. The ingredients were in the cabinet. He'd never needed it before, but he knew the recipe.
He turned to the cabinet and laid out the components one by one.
He dropped the ingredients into the cauldron. Three clockwise stirs, two counterclockwise, flame turned low.
Firelight caught him from the side. Half his face in light, half in shadow.
He watched the bubbles rise in the cauldron and heard nothing in his head at all.
When dinner came, Snape didn't go to the Great Hall.
The dormitory door swung open while he sat on the edge of his bed, holding a mirror.
Rabastan Lestrange walked in. No knock. Straight through.
He stopped in the doorway and swept the room with a glance. His eyes found Snape, and his lip curled, the way someone might look at something vaguely unclean.
Snape set the mirror face-down on the nightstand. His brows were drawn tight. He looked over but said nothing.
Rabastan didn't wait for an answer. He crossed the room, dropped into the chair opposite, stretched his legs out, and leaned back, one hand draped over the armrest.
"Need something from you."
Snape watched him. His face gave nothing away.
Rabastan studied him for a moment and smiled, though the smile had nothing pleasant in it. "What happened to your face?"
Snape's expression darkened. Still nothing said.
Rabastan didn't care. He settled deeper into the chair, chin lifted. "You know Lina Costa and Samuel Vance?"
Snape's eyebrow twitched.
"Two half-bloods. You'd know them." The contempt in Rabastan's voice was casual, automatic. "Heh."
Inside his sleeve, Snape's fist clenched.
"Go ask around. Find out why Black's protecting them. Whether he's got them doing something."
A pause, then an addition, delivered with the bluntness of an order: "Get it clear. Report back to me."
Snape didn't speak. Didn't nod. He sat motionless. The grey on his face was hard to make out in the firelight, but his expression was darker than his skin.
Rabastan stood, looking down at him. His lip twitched. "You're all half-bloods. Should be easy to find common ground."
He brushed nonexistent dust from his robe and walked to the door. At the threshold, he stopped and glanced back. "Don't let Black know I sent you."
The door closed. Footsteps faded.
Snape sat on the edge of his bed, hands on his knees, staring at the opposite wall. Perfectly still.
The fire popped once. His shadow wobbled on the stone.
He picked up the small round mirror and held it to his face.
Grey-black. Unchanged. If anything, darker than before.
He walked to the cauldron. The potion was done.
He scooped out a small amount, held it under his nose, sniffed. Then he grabbed a fistful and smeared it across his face, rubbing hard.
He didn't stop until his skin burned red beneath it, every inch covered. Then he picked up the mirror.
The face staring back was white. But it looked stranger than before. Too white. Unnaturally, absurdly white.
He stared at that face in the mirror for a long time.
Then he set the mirror down.
From the cabinet, he dug out a hooded robe, pulled it on, and tugged the hood forward until it covered half his face.
He stood, pushed the door open, and left.
The corridor was nearly empty. Most of the school was still at dinner.
Snape walked toward the Library, head low, steps so light they barely sounded, as though afraid of being seen. Afraid of being heard.
His footsteps still tapped faintly against the stone. Even that felt too loud. He softened them further.
He stopped at the corner before the corridor opened up, went no further.
From there he could see the Library entrance. More importantly, the light here was dim. Anyone looking from the bright end would see nothing.
He leaned against the wall, hood pressing against his forehead, and waited. Half an hour passed before Regulus Black came walking from the direction of the Great Hall.
Snape stepped out of the shadows. "Black."
Regulus stopped and turned. His voice was flatter. "Snape."
Then his gaze lingered a beat longer on Snape's face.
One look. That was all it took.
His brow furrowed and he stepped back, as if confronted with something he'd rather not have seen.
The distaste in his voice was barely concealed. "Snape, why are you... dark?"
---
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