For 30 + advance chapter: patreon.com/Snowing_Melody
Genuine, absolute respect is truly something physical and tangible in the wizarding world.
Those who have personally experienced the crushing disparity of being treated as lesser particularly understand this cold reality.
Although Regulus inherently possessed the terrifying, aristocratic shield of the 'pureblood House of Black,' and despite rapidly becoming a standout, highly popular figure among his peers in the younger years, the older, N.E.W.T.-level students initially didn't necessarily buy into his hype—
In the past, when some of the seventh-years spoke to Regulus in the corridors, they would occasionally, deliberately show a subtle trace of perfunctoriness and aristocratic disdain. Especially during the early, highly stressful administrative days of communicating with the older prefects regarding the Dueling Club matters, Regulus frequently had to aggressively invoke the faculty authority of Professor Flitwick and Professor Stokke just to get the teenagers to follow basic instructions.
If it were not for his terrifyingly strong, modern adult will, the sheer, constant questioning of his administrative role as the club's lead organizer—and the nasty, pureblood gossip reaching his ears from various dark angles of the castle—would have completely, permanently shattered a normal little wizard's fragile self-esteem.
But now? After the flawless execution of the Dueling tournament?
Now, literally every single student, regardless of their year or House, aggressively went out of their way to greet him warmly and chat with him in the corridors. There was absolutely no longer any hint of careless superiority or perfunctory, dismissive responses when he communicated instructions, and absolutely none of his words fell on deaf ears—
It was honestly exactly as if every single person in the castle had been his best, deeply intimate friend from the very first day he arrived.
Regulus, ever the cynical CEO, absolutely didn't dwell on these sudden, highly fake social niceties; he deeply, logically understood that older people often simply don't take younger people seriously until they are violently forced to.
That's exactly why the old Muggle proverb says, "Don't bully the young simply because they are poor," Regulus thought. Because what they're actually bullying is just youthful, temporary ignorance. And ignorance can be violently weaponized into genius.
Just as Regulus had previously, fiercely said to Severus in the Room of Requirement:
Confidence. You just have to have absolute, unshakeable confidence. No matter how ordinary or poor your background is, you must aggressively project confidence. In a ruthless, patriarchal wizard's world, there is absolutely no physical place for cowardice or inferiority—
Absolute confidence plus terrifying raw strength naturally earns absolute respect!
"Good morning, Regulus!" Benny Shafeeq, the tall, seventh-year Ravenclaw male prefect, walked over incredibly enthusiastically to loudly greet him in the Entrance Hall.
Shafeeq also came from a highly influential, Sacred Twenty-Eight pureblood family, with dozens of older relatives actively working deep within the Ministry of Magic in positions both high and low. Originally, his administrative involvement in the Dueling Club's affairs was highly reluctant; he had even loudly, privately complained to his friends that he, as the senior Ravenclaw male prefect, absolutely should have been named the club's president instead of a Slytherin second-year.
But now? He told absolutely everyone who would listen that his brilliant junior, Regulus, possessed infinite, terrifying talent and was outstandingly fair. He even loudly, jokingly claimed that Regulus had almost been sorted into their Eagle House back in his first year, citing Regulus's ownership of the two massive golden eagles as biological proof. Now, whenever he encountered Regulus in the halls, he would definitely go completely out of his way to aggressively say hello from thirty feet away.
"Good morning, Prefect Shafeeq," Regulus's attitude was as flawlessly proper, polite, and completely unreadable as ever.
"Oh, come on, just call me Benny," the tall and thin Shafeeq said, offering a massive, toothy smile that managed to look highly intelligent but not entirely annoying.
"Listen, mate. Us senior prefects are actually throwing a highly exclusive, secret pajama party in the upper towers tonight, and absolutely everyone attending is one of the top, most influential wizards at Hogwarts—I told them we absolutely, positively had to bring you along, Regulus. We have our own highly secure place—" Benny Shafeeq leaned in, lowering his voice into a conspiratorial whisper. "Lots of really good, highly illegal stuff, premium food and Firewhisky, and absolutely no teachers allowed! I promise you, it'll be incredibly fun."
"You really should come! Everyone desperately wants to properly meet you."
Standing slightly behind Regulus, from an angle Shafeeq didn't actively notice, a terrifying hint of slight, venomous gloominess and intense hostility appeared in little Snape's dark eyes. Honestly, if their future, canon nemesis little Harry Potter had seen this exact, murderous look on Snape's face, he would probably have turned and ran immediately in pure terror.
"That sounds wonderful. But can I bring a friend?" Regulus asked smoothly, looking casually over his shoulder at Severus.
"Ah. It's the Dueling Club's famous little Potions Master... Ah, hello there, Severus, my apologies, I didn't see you standing there just now... This," Shafeeq looked at the greasy-haired, poor half-blood Snape and said highly hesitantly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well. I'll actually have to aggressively ask the others... You know how it is, we have incredibly limited physical spots in the room... Are you desperately wanting to come?"
"That sounds like entirely too much administrative trouble for you, Benny. Let's just forget it," Regulus smiled brilliantly, instantly rejecting the offer without a second thought. "Thank you so much for the exclusive invitation. But actually, Severus and I are throwing our own highly private party tonight, and the timing simply isn't convenient."
Severus instantly, profoundly felt a massive, deeply warm wave of relief wash over him inside—
Of course, Severus sneered internally. Our highly exclusive party has Regulus and Lily. How could you stupid, arrogant older students possibly know anything more about hosting proper, high-society parties than Regulus Black?
"Your own party? Ah... I see. Is that so..." Shafeeq trailed off, clearly, visibly disappointed that his political networking attempt had failed so completely.
"Regulus, we really need to go eat breakfast right now, we have double Potions class soon," Severus interrupted highly appropriately from the side, utilizing his new, confident voice.
"Right. Well, I'll see you later, Benny. I'll have to heavily rely on your excellent administrative skills for the next Dueling Club activity."
"Absolutely no problem at all, Regulus!" Shafeeq beamed, puffing his chest out as he walked away. He thought fiercely to himself—
For the absolute next Dueling Club project, I will aggressively study the rules in advance and work incredibly hard secretly in the dorms just to violently amaze everyone on the platform.
After a highly satisfying breakfast, a genuinely cheerful little Snape walked quickly down into the damp dungeons toward the Potions classroom. This specific morning class was a double period for the Slytherin and Gryffindor second-years together.
He sat down quickly among the Slytherin students, unpacking his brass scales. He briefly looked across the center aisle, actively searching for Lily in the classroom, and his dark gaze accidentally, directly met Sirius Black's bored, highly casual grey eyes.
If this were normal, canonical circumstances, the two boys would definitely, instantly glare at each other with pure hatred, violently roll their eyes, loudly sneer, aggressively ignore each other, and actively plot to hex each other under the desks...
But before Severus could rapidly figure out exactly how he was supposed to publicly treat Regulus's highly arrogant Gryffindor brother... the elder Black, who usually openly, loudly couldn't stand his physical existence, actually paused. Sirius offered a very slight, highly restrained, acknowledging nod.
Seeing this massive olive branch, Severus—who absolutely, fiercely did not want to be outdone in sheer aristocratic demeanor—forced down his revulsion. He offered a highly stiff, slightly pained smile as a polite response.
For some deeply strange, highly psychological reason, both of the teenage boys secretly, heavily breathed a massive sigh of relief...
If Regulus were currently present to witness this impossible interaction, he would definitely nod in approval and say—
Liking someone, disliking someone, having wildly different political stances... what does absolutely any of that petty nonsense actually matter when compared to genuine, professional respect?
To actively respect others is to fundamentally acknowledge their human dignity—there is absolutely no higher, more effective way of treating people in the entire corporate world than basic respect.
It works literal miracles.
Severus lowered his head, aggressively focusing his attention to deal with the highly stubborn, shriveled Abyssinian fig sitting on the cutting board in front of him. He first violently poked the tough skin with his silver scissors so it would be vastly easier to peel and process later in the brew.
"Have the daisy roots been properly, uniformly cut yet?" Severus asked his assigned Slytherin desk partner sharply. He critically looked at the sloppy cutting work handed over to him before carefully, mathematically adding the roots to his heavy stone mortar.
His Slytherin partner knew perfectly well that simply with the brilliant Snape sitting at their desk, they were absolutely guaranteed to get a flawless 'Outstanding' grade in this class. The boy was extremely happy, deeply obediently helping out by the side, quietly cutting the hairy caterpillars exactly as instructed.
In the miserable, heavily prejudiced past, this absolute level of respect wouldn't have happened either—even the vast majority of the Slytherin students weren't particularly friendly or respectful towards him, a poor, half-blood little wizard.
While carefully waiting for the volatile Potion to successfully reach its simmering stage, Professor Slughorn—who clearly recognized Snape's genius—even highly generously asked him to walk around the classroom to actively help the other, struggling students who were having massive trouble with their Potions.
Severus first walked confidently around the Slytherin side of the dungeon, casually correcting a few temperatures. He then took a deep, centering breath, crossed the invisible, highly political center aisle, and slowly walked directly over to the Gryffindor half of the classroom. He carefully, critically looked into the brass cauldron belonging to Lily and her Muggle-born friend, Mary Macdonald.
The potion inside was a brilliant, perfectly dazzling emerald green—absolutely everything was going smoothly. Severus offered Lily a small, highly genuine smile of approval.
Directly next to the girls was James Potter, who was currently sweating heavily and genuinely seemed to be struggling with his brew.
Potter's practical Potions grades were historically, notoriously not very ideal.
After returning from the summer break, Sirius—who had actively spent over two agonizing months playing, dueling, and heavily studying advanced Alchemy with Regulus—genuinely seemed to have taken some kind of massive, highly illegal brain booster. Sirius's academic progress across all subjects was terrifyingly rapid, putting considerable, massive academic pressure on James to keep up.
It was absolutely impossible not to be slightly envious of the Black brothers' dynamic. James had even recently, loudly complained in a letter to his parents about it, aggressively whining that he desperately wanted a brilliant younger brother of his own.
"James, mate, absolutely do not add so much of the rat spleen," Sirius was currently warning him sharply from the side, eyeing the bubbling cauldron.
"Potter, the rat spleen—" Snape said at the exact same time, stepping up to the desk. He sneered, his old habits dying hard. "Just because the school provides the ingredients for free doesn't mean you should aggressively dump this much in."
Is this greasy git Snape actively looking for a fight again?! James thought, his temper flaring. James's hand trembled with sudden anger, and he accidentally, violently poured even more of the volatile spleen directly into the boiling cauldron.
The Potion instantly, violently turned a highly noticeable, highly dangerous, toxic shade of bright orange...
You absolute, unmitigated idiot, Snape aggressively, subtly rolled his eyes. But, vividly thinking of the terrifying, highly effective Black brothers and their fragile alliance, he forced himself to physically swallow the harsh insults.
"Hey, calm down, James. Snape is actually trying to help," Sirius immediately patted James hard on the shoulder, firmly signaling his best friend to stand down and accept the advice.
Huh? Wait... what the bloody hell is actually happening right now? James was completely, utterly bewildered by Sirius defending Snape.
Listening to Sirius's surprisingly calm words and seeing James's highly confused, surprised look, Snape felt yet another massive, deeply satisfying wave of relief wash over him inside—
"It can still be salvaged before it melts through the desk," Snape said proudly, holding his chin high. Without a single word of further explanation, he aggressively reached across the Gryffindor desk and grabbed a vial of pure leech juice. He rapidly, mathematically added a few highly specific, calculated drops of the neutralizing ingredients according to proportion, doing it all in absolutely less than five seconds flat—
"There. You can safely continue brewing..." Snape sneered softly, turning on his heel and walking away back to his own desk without even looking back to see the result.
James, who had just been physically restrained by Sirius, highly cautiously leaned over the rim of the brass cauldron—
The toxic, highly dangerous orange Potion had miraculously, seamlessly turned perfectly back to a stable, simmering green. Although it absolutely wasn't nearly as brilliant or bright as Lily's flawless cauldron, it at least looked completely, safely normal. It wouldn't explode.
Regardless of his awful personality, Sirius secretly, deeply praised the boy in his mind, Snape's terrifying, raw natural talent for advanced Potions is absolutely undeniable.
Nearby at the girls' desk—
"Lily, what exactly are you smiling at?" Mary whispered softly, nudging her friend.
"Nothing," Lily said, blinking her beautiful, brilliant green eyes. She looked between the Marauders' desk and Snape's retreating back. "It's just... the entire atmosphere in this room... it genuinely feels incredibly different now."
Hopefully, Regulus thought, looking over his own empire, this time, the future really, truly is entirely different.