desire is no light thing

“Look everyone! We have a genius on our hands!” His tone was mocking, his interest was not. Something about the student captured his attention. Whether it was the attitude, or the appearance, Markus was always one to take in strays. Whether or not the strays should have been taken in by someone like him was another story. 

“You can find me in Knockturn Alley if you’re interested in learning more about my work. Consider this your invitation.” Snape would have been smart to walk away. Most people would. And yet, so many fell into the orbit of Markus Scarrs, which was always a dangerous place to be.

Sirius laughed good naturedly again. “I think I made the choice.” It had been him, hadn’t it, who had packed his bags and left; a slight Regulus had taken personally. And if Sirius was being honest, it had been personal, although he had the reason about him to know that was less Regulus’s fault than their parents; that if not for the path they had cajoled and manipulated their son down, Sirius would never have left him at all. They could have gone together— Sirius would have taken care of him. 

When Sirius next addressed Snape it was sneering, malicious, a curl in his lip. “I disagree. I think you do need to prove yourself. Not because I give a shit, but because you do. I think proving yourself - to everyone - is all you fucking care about.” That said, Sirius finally stepped back, expression cheerful again. “Stay the fuck away from him,” he said, in much the same way he might have mentioned the weather, “and don’t forget that loo paper.” With that, he turned and walked away. 

Severus felt his nails digging into his palms and his teeth grinding together so hard that his jaw began to ache. He wasn’t going to call after him to shout insults down the corridor for everyone to witness. That was pathetic. No, he was going to bide his time. It didn’t matter that he was walking away now. He was going to make Sirius Black wish for death. A hundred images flashed before him—Sirius on his knees, that stupid smile wiped off his face, bruised, bloody. Just as he didn’t speak now, he wouldn’t need to speak then. Both men would know who had power and who didn’t. 

Pretty fucking good at it. He snorted a laugh, impressed by the attitude. The first response he’d gotten all afternoon that made him consider continuing the conversation. Markus extended his arm, covered in swirling black ink. “Take a guess.”

Severus took in the other’s attitude, rugged outfit, and moving tattoos. “I’m going to go ahead and say you’re a tattoo artist.”

“There’s always the Research Committee if you’re interested, but you also want to keep in mind that everything is going to be extremely and very heavily regulated under the watchful eye of the Ministry,” said Eris. “I decided to go into my department because it gives me access to their resources without having people constantly looking over my shoulder. But let me ask you, have you ever experimented with magic before?”

“I’ve created my own potions and spells, yeah,” he said, wondering if he sounded casual. “Not sure I want the Ministry to take credit for all of it though.” The resources that would be made readily available to him was tempting, but regulations would be a problem. Not everyone was as trusting as Dumbledore. It was a lot easier to get away with things at Hogwarts. 

Sirius let out a laugh all of a sudden, his scrunched up face untwisting itself into his usual one; easy, cheerful, open. It was the sort of face that drew people towards him, bait on a fishing line. His charm and charisma, when he could be bothered to turn it on, kept them there— again, if he wanted to keep them around. Often he didn’t, content with the people that already surrounded him. He did let his hands drop, but did not back off, staying in Snape’s space.

“He’s your friend, is he?” Sirius said, all silky voiced, deliberately taunting. “Are you sure that’s not out of circumstance rather than choice. I don’t see anyone else interested in being your friend.” He made a show of looking around for a horde of friends, even though his point was already made; two lonely boys finding each other in the same house was what bound the pair together, nothing more. 

Severus scowled at the other boy’s easy laughter. He was jealous, again, of the way Sirius seemed to let things roll off of him, emerging unharmed, unvanquished. Nothing ever felt half as easy for Severus as Sirius seemed then, so casually elegant laughing in his face. 

Was a slight comment like that enough to make him doubt his friendship with Regulus? He bit back. “You want to talk about choice? It seems that he certainly isn’t friendly with you by choice. I don’t need to prove myself to you.” But even as he said the words, the droplets of doubt seeped in, spreading through him like water rolling down a hill.

One short shake, up and down, and Markus was taking his hand back, wringing his knuckles. For a tattoo artist he had particularly twitchy hands when they weren’t occupied with a wand or a tattoo gun. “You any good at it?” 

One side of Severus’ lips curled up into an easy smirk, perhaps a little unconsciously at the question. “Yeah, I’m pretty fucking good at it.” Wasn’t this a career fair? Who was going around saying they sucked at their degree anyway? He looked the jittery man up and down. “And what about you? What do you do?”

“Well, I suppose it depends on what you want to do with either of those fields. However, it sounds like what you’re looking to do is innovate, is that it?” She asked the question, but it was almost more of a statement. She looked at him shrewdly. “Both of those are good fields for expanding on, creating new potions and new spells, finding better ways to do things. I find that wizards can get stuck in their ways because to them, what is there to be improved upon when you already have magic? But things can always be improved upon. I will say this, the Ministry itself, no matter what position you’re in, has excellent resources and facilities that can be used if you’re wanting to do additional research and experimentation with new forms of magic.

Severus grinned widely. "You’re exactly right. I am interested in innovation.” Who knew the Ministry would be so receptive to research and experimentation? He hadn’t expected the meeting to be so positive. “What department would you suggest I approach?”

“Weeellll,” he let the word go on longer than it should have, eeking out of his mouth like slime, until finally cut it off with a sharp smirk. He met the boy’s eye with a look that said he saw the attention Severus was paying him. “Just did, didn’t I?” Markus hopped down from the booth where he’d been sitting and thrust an inked hand out. “Markus Scarrs,” he maffled around the filter of his cigarette. Smoke danced between them. “What’s yer subject, lad?”

Severus gave the man a curt nod. “I suppose you did.” He had spent years learning and trying to be formal and traditional to fit in at Cambridge and Hogwarts, and yet, he knew it was probably working against his favour now to be this stiff. Although the man seemed slimy, one could never be sure what opportunity lay ahead. He loosened his shoulders and took his hand. “Severus Snape. I’m studying Potions.” 

“I am and I did,” she said to answer his first two question, ignoring his last one for the time being. “Are you interested in being a part of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad? Or just some other ministry career? What goals are you looking to accomplish, Severus?” 

“That is the question, isn’t it?” Severus smiled. “I’m studying Potions and Magical Theory, and I love it. I want to continue researching and getting deeper into the magic. I’m open to anything that might let me do that.”

WHEN: 9 June 1980 WHERE: Hogwarts Career Fair WHO: @princesev​

“Oi, kid,” Markus waved the black haired boy over with a tattooed hand. “You look lost. Nothing catch your eye here?”

Severus hated the way he turned ungracefully out of surprise, as if being addressed as kid made him into one. He felt even dumber once he got a good look at who was waving him over. This man, covered in tattoos, was not someone Severus had expected to see at the Hogwarts Career Fair. It wasn’t exactly just the look—there was something about him that felt unsafe. He shrugged, hoping to seem aloof. “And how are you expecting to catch my eye?” 

Just like that, Sirius’s temper flared, a hand shooting out to grab the front of Snape’s clothes. It took a lot to get a reaction from him usually, but his brother was a point of contention; a weakness; a raw spot. If Snape knew so, it was no wonder he’d gone straight for Sirius’s throat, so to speak. Sirius’s hand clenched harder around the fabric he was holding and he used hold to roughly shove Snape back towards to the wall. “Get his name out of your fucking mouth,” he spat. Even if Snape hadn’t explicitly used Regulus’s name, they had both known who he meant. 

.

Severus clenched his teeth and squared his jaw as the other boy shoved him. He had known, deep down, that any mention of Regulus would lead them here—his back against the wall and Sirius hissing in his face—but he couldn’t help himself. Regulus’ early morning existential crisis had settled in heavily, replaying in his mind nearly everyday. Trying to find purpose, he had said. What was Severus’ purpose? Did it matter? Somehow every part of his life felt like a failure except magic. And he had worked so fucking hard for that. Was circumstance his failure?

Provoking Sirius was a moment of weakness. He was angry for Regulus, yes, but he was angry for himself too. Severus told himself it was the combined stress of wondering if he was going to have to move back to Spinner’s End for the summer and feeling far away from Lily that had him on edge. But perhaps he just wanted a reason to shove back. “Get your filthy hands off of me, Black, and back off. Regulus is my friend,” he said, enjoying the way Regulus’ name rolled off his tongue. 

It was so lovely to see things going wrong for someone like Sirius Black. A golden boy with everything handed to him, too dumb to see that he had it all on a silver platter. And it should have gone wrong for him then, when he had left, estranged himself of the luxury of being a Black, but it hadn’t. He was someone who seemed to excel without trying. He was so well-liked. It shamed Severus to think this way—to think that he could be jealous of Sirius. But then again, it was so lovely to see Sirius Black’s usually casually elegant features scrunched up in anger now, lips curled, spitting in Severus’ face. 

Where did the Dark Lord fit into that plan? Regulus had a feeling he wouldn’t be pleased with his supporters fleeing the country. “You’re right,” Regulus lied. “I suppose I do have everything figured out after all.”

Severus wondered if Regulus was mocking him, but gave his friend a slight smile as not to burst his bubble. “The future might just be all right,” he said, toying with the parchment of the letter in his pocket. 

“Oh, please, call me Eris,” she said as she waved her hand all the formalities. “I’m not one of your professors, so no need for that. I’m doing well, and you?”

“Well, Eris, thanks for meeting with me. I understand that you are part of the Accidental Magic Reversal squad at the Ministry, and you studied Magical Theory, is that right? What sort of work does that really entail?” 

James let out a laugh, but it wasn’t his usual one, lacking the amusement and joy that usually came with them. Already he was turning to leave. “I’ll certainly enjoy it, Snape.”

Severus shrugged and slumped back against the wall, but it seemed that the brief encounter had left him with an inexplicable agitation. 

James looked around at the chairs and discarded drinks. “Looks like it’s trying to be.”

“I would tell you to enjoy the festivities we’ve set up outside of this room, but that would be a lie.” He took a drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke in James’ direction against his better judgement.

asheravery:

What was his problem? Esmeralda, for one. There would be getting no around this, however, which meant Asher painted on a smile as fake as the last and let himself be pulled. He sighed, taking the glass in one hand, while loosening his tie with the other. “To surviving the year.’

To surviving the year. Esmeralda was not one to show her emotions, good or bad, but she struggled to swallow through the shock she felt at that seemingly harmless statement; her moment of discomposure had nothing to do with the strength of the neon green shot. “To those who didn’t,” she countered. In a Slytherin-only backroom, it was impossible to miss the vacancies of fallen classmates. For her, anyway.

Severus swallowed hard at his fellow prefects’ words. It was something he tried not to think about. He often convinced himself that it was something that wouldn’t happen to him, not if he practiced his spellwork hard enough and not if he walked the line carefully enough. No, it would not happen to him. He looked solemnly on, and raised his glass silently for the fallen. 

Sirius only smirked slightly, and if he was accused of doing such on purpose, it would be an accusation he could easily deny; he spent most of his life with such an expression on his face. “If you want to walk around all day with loo paper on your shoe, that’s your prerogative,” he said, tone cool. What was his problem? Perhaps it was nothing but unspent anger that always bubbled just below the surface of his skin, a tension that held him upright from a life time of abuse. Or perhaps it was because he didn’t like the person he saw Snape as, or the people he hung out with, especially his brother. Regulus was already being led down a dark path; Sirius might not have been able to help him anymore, but that didn’t mean he wanted him to be nudged further down the path by the likes of Snape. 

Severus willed himself not to look down at his shoes, knowing that with Black, he never knew if he was speaking bait or truth. He leaned in ever-so-slightly, and in a low but even tone said, “I think you know what I mean. Leave him alone.” He didn’t want to throw Regulus’ name into it so explicitly, especially with other students milling about, but he knew they both had the other boy in mind.