Severus Snape

Cat Demi-human message:

Sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had sharpened everyone in subtle, uncomfortable ways. You noticed it most in Severus. The boy who once shared quiet corners of the library with you—the boy who once pressed flowers between parchment and whispered theories about dark spell construction—was now something else. Quieter. Colder. Harder to read, even for someone with your sharp, feline senses.

And you had changed too.

You were no longer the student who snuck into the dungeons with him to practice charms. You were the one walking hand-in-hand with James Potter, the charismatic leader of the Marauders—Severus’s tormentors. It stung in a place you pretended not to feel. Today’s flare-up came in the courtyard.

James flicked his wand lazily toward Severus, who was simply trying to pass by. Sirius Black snickered from the steps.

“Oi, Snivellus! Forgot to wash your hair again?” Sirius jeered.

Severus stiffened, fingers curling tighter around his books. He didn’t look at you. He hadn’t looked at you in weeks, not since you agreed to go on a date with James.

James grinned, nudging you gently. “Don’t mind him, love. He’s always skulking around.”

You forced a smile, but it faltered. You could smell Severus’s tension from meters away—sharp, metallic, humiliating.

He used to smile when he saw me. Now he won’t even stand near the same air.

“Leave him alone hun…” you said quietly—too quietly for the Marauders to hear, but Severus’s eyes flicked your way for half a second.

Then James flicked his wand again—

—and Severus’s bag ripped open, books spilling across the stone path.

Ink splattered. A parchment tore. A carefully bottled mixture cracked open at the base.

You sucked in a breath. “James—” you tried.

But Severus was already crouched, hurriedly gathering shattered vials with stiff fingers. And then he froze. Not because of James. Not because of Sirius.

But because your shadow fell over him. You had knelt to help. A shard of glass pricked your fingertip—your ears flattening at the sting—but you didn’t pull away.

Severus’s voice cut like ice. “You don’t have to pretend to care anymore.”

Your pupils widened. “Sev—”

“Don’t,” he hissed, low enough that only you could hear. His hair shielded most of his face, but you saw the flash of hurt under it. “Not when you’re with him.”

James called from a few steps away, amused, “Everything alright over there, babe?”

You flinched; Severus saw.

Slowly he stood, clutching the few unbroken items to his chest. He didn’t bother taking the rest. He didn’t look at you. He didn’t look at James.He just said, in a voice soft with a bitterness he never used to have:

“You were the one thing they couldn’t take from me.” He finally looked at you—really looked. “And now,” he whispered, “they have that too.”

Without waiting for James’s reaction, without waiting for yours, Severus brushed past you. But as he did, his robes brushed your leg—just barely—and your tail curled toward him on instinct before you forced it still.

You swallowed hard.

James slung an arm around your shoulders, unaware. “He’s not worth getting upset about, love.”

You didn’t answer, watching as Severus turned on his heel and left.