Chapter Text
He didn’t scare easily. He could count on one hand the times he had truly been terrified. And all of those times had been when he was about to die. Even then, he hadn’t been that afraid. But now, in this very moment, he felt such deep terror that it was hard to breathe.
It wasn’t unfamiliar; he would have felt calmer if it were. But it wasn’t. The fear came from what he knew was going to happen.
He looked at the four long rows of houses, all nervous and anxious about the results of fate.
Fate. How Severus hated that word.
A foolish excuse for doing something completely stupid. Everyone accepted it, without questioning or doubting anything related to fate. Not like Severus, who completely rejected the idea. Disgusted by the mere possibility of a lack of autonomy that word implied.
"Lily Evans," he heard McGonagall's voice just a few steps away.
He watched as Lily approached the older witch, stretching out her arm and revealing it. Her pale, freckled skin visible like a blank canvas, ready to be painted. McGonagall flicked her wand, reciting the spell and waiting.
They had talked about this before. Lily didn’t know, how could she, being the daughter of Muggles Severus had told her what his mother had told him. Lily had been thrilled.
He felt a bit guilty seeing the illusion on his former friend's face, but he had warned her before; Muggle-borns usually didn’t have soulmates. Not like wizards did. Lily had been furious at that moment, shouting how terrible Severus was.
In the end, a few minutes passed, and Lily’s arm remained unchanged. He had to suppress a grimace of pity at seeing the disappointment on the redhead’s face. But she recovered quickly, lowering her sleeve and returning to her friends. McGonagall noted the result on the scroll by her side, which would be sent to the Ministry.
"Severus Snape," called Slughorn’s voice, looking at him.
A chill ran through Severus at hearing his name. He wondered when the line had gotten so small, with most of the students now sitting in little groups or with newly declared partners chatting or getting to know each other. He also wondered if he should just run away and if anyone would stop him. Maybe they would, this was a mandatory spell, decreed by the Ministry when a young wizard turned sixteen.
With false confidence, he made his way to his head of house. A mask of total indifference settled on his face, hiding how terrified he felt. He raised the sleeve of his uniform, letting Slughorn’s wand press against his arm.
"Anima gemella revelato" Slughorn recited, drawing a pattern with his wand.
He prayed, prayed so hard to all the gods he knew that nothing would appear. He clung to his Muggle blood, which he so hated, hoping it was strong enough to prevent any name from appearing. He hoped it would be like Lily, who despite being a great and excellent witch, the Muggle blood in her veins prevented her from having a soulmate, leaving her arm as pale as it had been when she was born.
In the distance, he heard the open whispers and mockery of the Marauders.
“Poor soul who’s his soulmate,” true.
“He’d be lucky to get one,” false.
“He probably won’t even get one, fate can’t be that cruel,” It is.
Severus knew better than anyone how cruel fate could be. He had seen his father’s name branded on his mother’s arm and how that had been more of a curse than anything else. And he saw it again now as a thread of ink began to crawl across his arm.
As the name formed, he saw in silent horror one of his worst nightmares being fulfilled. Fate was nothing but merciless. So cruel and infamous that it had to unite him with the person he hated most in the world.
James Potter
It said in elegant, cursive black ink.
He looked up, knowing that his mask had completely fallen, revealing all his fear. Slughorn looked at him with pity and compassion, as if they were going to give him the kiss of a Dementor. Severus would have preferred that to what was about to happen. Because Slughorn had to call Potter and announce their bond, congratulate them, and confirm that Severus’s name was on his arm. But, in an act of kindness that was unusual for the head of house, Slughorn gently lowered his sleeve and ordered Severus to sit. Giving him a few minutes of peace.
Still with trembling legs, he did. He sat away from the other Slytherins who wouldn’t even bother asking if he had received a name, and waited for the worst. From the corner of his eye, he saw Lily looking at him, worried.
“James Potter” he heard the name being spoken in a buzz.
Potter approached his head of house with all the arrogance he could muster, strutting on his way, winking at Lily as he passed by her. The redhead blushed and turned with a feigned offense.
He wanted to vomit as he saw the wand twirl. Maybe his name wouldn’t show up, surely it wouldn’t. Perhaps Lily’s would appear. Even though he knew it was impossible, he clung to that futile hope.
Potter’s eyes were focused on his arm with an impressive concentration that Severus had only seen when he played Quidditch. His breath quickened in panic when his eyes began following the ink that moved. And when that gaze shifted to disappointment and then horror, he could only feel a kind of sadistic joy. It vanished in an instant when the hazel eyes settled on him.
Potter was furious .
“You... What the hell did you do?!” he spat with hate and all the venom he could muster. “Is this some kind of revenge?! Are you cruel enough to do this? This is not something to joke about, Snivellus.”
Everyone looked at them, wondering what the commotion was about, starting to whisper from side to side. Only the professors could understand the tension that was building, yet they were still unable to do anything.
He didn’t like that everyone was staring at him and whispering about him, feeling a bit of panic about them finding out what had happened.
“He’s cursed it, he’s manipulated this result!” Potter shouted in the tantrum of a spoiled child. In the tantrum of a pureblood who didn’t get what he wanted. “Professor McGonagall, there’s been a mistake, do it again, do a counter-curse!”
After breathing for a few seconds and with his nerves more controlled, Severus decided he had to stop Potter from making an even bigger scene than he already had. He wouldn’t let this become the gossip of tomorrow’s Great Hall. He stood up and looked at his head of house, then at the Gryffindor head of house, hoping his expression would make them understand. He didn’t look at Potter once.
Reacting and understanding the situation much faster than Slughorn, McGonagall spoke authoritatively. “Mr. Potter, Mr. Snape, please come with me.”
Before Potter could complain or say anything else, Severus followed the Gryffindor almost immediately. The other students who still had their marks to reveal began to complain.
They walked in total silence and discomfort to Dumbledore’s office. Severus could feel Potter’s stare burning into the back of his neck, but he chose to ignore it. This news wasn’t pleasant for Severus either. Not even in the worst case he could imagine did he think something like this would happen. So Potter should stop sulking like an ill-tempered deer and get over it.
Not that Severus was doing a good job of that. He was absolutely sure that if he weren’t so good at Occlumency, he’d be spiraling out of control or destroying everything around him because of how unfair his life was.
“Minerva,” the headmaster spoke kindly, a soft smile on his face. “What do I owe the unexpected visit on this special day?”
“Albus, do the soulmate spell on Mr. Potter,” the professor ordered, crossing her arms and glaring at them.
The headmaster’s eyes widened in confusion. “Was there a problem with the spell, Minerva?”
“Mr. Potter believes the spell was altered by Mr. Snape,” she said, as though it was absurd and she just wanted to have that claim admitted. And it was. Potter was a complete and utter fool. No wizard in the world could alter a soulmate mark.
The headmaster knew this, so he chuckled softly. “I don’t think it’s necessary, but if it makes them feel safer, then I have nothing more to object to” He approached, took out his wand, and pointed it at the myopic’s arm. A clear surprise appeared on his face as he saw the name already written there, and an emotion more, something he couldn’t understand.
The spell was cast, minutes passed without any changes to the arm, confirming what they already knew.
“Show me your arm, Severus,” Dumbledore requested.
He presented it, showing his arm covered by the soulmate ink, ignoring the horrified gasp from the gryffindor. Exaggerated . Dumbledore didn’t cast the spell, as Severus thought he would. He just looked and touched the name on his arm.
“Fate can be very unpredictable sometimes, my dear boys, but it knows what it’s doing,” he spoke calmly. “Although, unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like the best decision now.”
“Is that all you’re going to do?! There’s no way Snivellus is my soulmate, there must be a mistake,” Potter snapped. Dumbledore sighed, somewhere between disappointment and exhaustion.
“Mr. Potter, I can assure you there’s nothing wrong with your soulmate mark.” His authoritative voice softened as he spoke again. “I myself had doubts about my mark, but I assure you, fate never makes mistakes.”
“Did you see that? I hope that settles your doubts,” the professor warned, glaring at Potter. Then she urged them to leave so the headmaster could continue with his work. “I suppose you’ll want to talk in private, I’ll leave you, but I hope I don’t hear any more commotion.”
She left, giving them one last threatening look that made them shudder.
Both stood there, staring at the hallway, not knowing what to say. Severus wanted to leave, forget the name on his arm, take a hot shower, and lie down to sleep. That would be ideal. But it had already become clear that fate hated Severus, and so he remained standing next to James Potter, his apparent soulmate, the person who, according to the wizarding world, was made entirely for him. Nonsense.
What was he supposed to say? Severus had anticipated many imaginary scenarios where he would face the unfortunate outcome of having a soulmate appear. He imagined apologizing, making arrangements, or completely ignoring him if he were a Muggle. Either way, he didn’t think his counterpart would be happy to be with Severus. That would be best for everyone.
None of his imaginings had anything to do with a pureblood, much less James Potter. It was like the worst joke anyone could make, the worst kind of comedy. And it was happening.
Potter didn’t seem to want to talk, stiff as a board, a compressed spring ready to jump. Severus had to handle this situation carefully.
“We don’t have to do anything. This situation is as unpleasant for me as it is for you. Let’s just go on like before, forget about this nonsense, and continue with our lives as we always have,” Severus proposed, his tone firm and calm. Which it wasn’t. He waited a few minutes for Potter to respond, but he remained as stiff as ever. “I’ll take your silence as agreement, Potter.”
He turned, walking toward the dungeons. He didn’t have any more classes that day, so he would take a bath and rest. He felt a bit more relaxed now that this matter was settled; he had worried for years over nothing. Potter would continue his life, become an Auror, probably marry Lily, have a child, and a nice house. He would live in familial comfort. While Severus, in stark contrast to Potter, would continue with his plans with the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord. As things should be.
He hadn’t gotten very far before a whisper from Potter drifted down the hall. He thought for a second it was nothing and that he had heard wrong, but as he was about to move forward, he heard the mumbling again.
He turned, only to confirm that it was Potter murmuring. He was staring at him, as indecisive as determined, the two emotions dancing in his brown eyes. He murmured again, this time louder but still indistinguishable due to the distance.
“What?”
This time, Potter’s piercing voice echoed down the hall, freezing Severus’s blood with a single sentence. “You are my soulmate. I’m not going to give that up.”
What absolute shit?