Scars

Disclaimer: All recognisable Harry Potter characters, settings, situations etc. are the property of J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this work, and no copyright infringement is intended.

"I'm Pansy," Parkinson said to Severus by way of introduction and offered him her hand. She was looking at him, smiling, her eyes glinting with interest. He gave her hand a brief touch and withdrew as fast as politeness would allow.

"So, how come no one ever knew Professor Snape had a son?" Parkinson said, as always so straight to the point that Severus marvelled that she hadn't been placed in Gryffindor rather than Slytherin.

"Father didn't want anyone to know. The reasons, I imagine, are obvious," he said. He turned away from her and continued to eat the shepherd's pie he had chosen.

"I really liked your dad, you know," she said and flipped her dark hair over her shoulder. "We all thought it was just awful when he died, especially since he was so clever. He was the best teacher we had." She smiled at him again.

"Well, he was committed, one might say," Severus said. He wondered what she was trying to do. Parkinson had detested him, almost since she first arrived at Hogwarts, and he knew that several of his students' more inventive epithets for him had originated with her.

The conversation was interrupted as the Great Hall fell quiet. Looking up, he saw that Minerva had risen from her seat, and her gaze was sweeping over the room as the main courses were cleared off the tables.

"We are very happy to see so many of our students from the 1998 seventh-year returning to sit their NEWTs. You will find you have made a good choice," she said. She made a short pause and continued, "First, I would like to introduce our staff, starting with our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher and Head of Gryffindor house, Professor William Weasley."

Severus watched as the Gryffindor table erupted in applause and whistles. The rest of the students were more sedate, but applauded with a certain enthusiasm nonetheless. William Weasley was a good choice for the post – calm, cool and well versed in the Dark Arts due to his days as a curse breaker at Gringotts. He would be satisfactory.

"I would also like to introduce our new flying teacher, Mr Cormac McLaggen." Minerva didn't look as pleased this time, and her added sniff at the end of the introduction was dangerously close to derisive. No wonder, since McLaggen was close to being a sexual predator. Severus didn't know how many times he had interrupted McLaggen's forays around the school. His dating habits had been promiscuous, to say the least. Once or twice it had also been obvious that the girl McLaggen had been with was grateful when Severus had swooped down on them and interrupted their tryst. A Hufflepuff girl had even gone so far as to stand behind Severus, holding on to his robes in a rather desperate attempt to get away from the boy. The girl had actually been less intimidated by Severus than McLaggen. That had made Severus realise how severe the problem was. After that, he had made it his business to stop the boy at every turn, ferreting out where he brought his girlfriends and disrupting him as often as he could.

He would have to find out how McLaggen had got the teaching position. Then he would get rid of him; it wouldn't be hard. Severus thoughtfully dragged his finger along the rim of the goblet until it squeaked. He was too far away to be able to enter McLaggen's head and get the information he wanted. But he would get close enough. Eventually.

"And now," Minerva said, concluding her presentation of the rest of the staff, "we will all rise and honour the students and friends who gave their lives to protect Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

All the students and teachers rose, almost in unison, then silence fell. For the first time that Severus could recall, complete stillness reigned in the Great Hall. A row of candles started to float down to the centre of the room, where they – one by one – flickered, died and fell to the floor. Severus counted them. Fifty.

He felt like he was going to suffocate. He stood there, watching, back straight, keeping his face blank, biting into his cheek until the pain was almost unbearable, and he felt the taste of iron filling his mouth.

Finally, the painful ceremony was over. Several of the students were crying, some trying to hide their tears, others making no attempt to hide their distress.

"We will remember them," Minerva said, and with tear-filled eyes, she raised her goblet. "A toast. Let us rejoice, for their sacrifice was not in vain." Everyone lifted their goblets and drank. Minerva spoke again, her voice now brisk, breaking the almost suffocating tension in the room.

"Now we shall have dessert. The house-elves have outdone themselves this evening." She sat down and the rest of the room followed suit.

Severus sat down, watching as the other students took their seats at the tables. He had known that some of the older students had been killed in the battle, but he realised now that Minerva hadn't told him the whole truth of it,.

It seemed that some students were expecting their dead friends to walk through the door and join the banquet, and therefore they had left them an empty space at the table. Other students huddled together, maybe in an unconscious attempt to fill the space left by a missing friend. There were so many more students missing than he had expected. He swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the constricting lump in his throat, and started to take inventory.

His own house had escaped more or less intact, since the one member he couldn't find wasn't much of a loss in the first place. It seemed that Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were the houses that had suffered the most. Five students were missing at the Ravenclaw table, three from the old seventh year and two from the sixth. Seven students were missing at the Hufflepuff table. Three from the old seventh year and four from the sixth.

He turned to the Gryffindor table, feeling light-headed and nauseated. He quickly realised that the elder Creevy brother was missing, together with a girl from the old sixth-years.

He continued looking, feeling his stomach churn with something that might be worry when he finally found her, and he could let out the breath he was holding. She was still the same. Small, with long, blond hair. Relieved that she was there, he tilted his head, trying to get a better look.

His last year as Potions master, Severus had – to his own embarrassment – developed a habit of resting his eyes on Lavender Brown, particularly when double Potions with the Gryffindors and Slytherins was wearing him down. And that particular class always wore him down. The fact the he had managed them for five years without a single casualty still amazed him. Malfoy and Potter was not a good combination at the best of times.

Teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts had been an improvement. The subject – practically oriented as it was – had allowed him to watch her without anyone being suspicious. He had even given her individual instructions her, standing close behind her, holding her wand hand as he demonstrated the right movements. He had been careful not to do it too often even if she smelt of fresh air.

No matter how frivolously she had behaved, he had never succeeded in mustering the right amount of contempt to be able to give her the severe set downs he thought she needed. She had been so very pretty, with a broad, open smile with lots of white teeth, and cornflower-blue eyes that crinkled in the corners when she smiled. Nothing like Lily. Where Lily had been willowy and rather tall, Lavender was short, curvaceous and on the sturdy side. Lily had been a redhead; Lavender was a blond. Lily had been very intelligent and so very good at magic. Lavender was ... absent-minded perhaps. Unfocused. A bit childish. Or so he hoped. If not, she was stupid.

She was sitting beside the Gryffindor Patil twin and Romilda Vane, but in contrast to them, and unusually, she wasn't talking and seemed to be concentrating on her food. As if she could sense him watching, she looked up and turned her head, looking straight at him.

At first he didn't realise what he was looking at, and then came shock. The left half of her face had been savaged. It looked hideous. Four long, uneven scars knotted their way down her face. They were shiny and pink and ran from her forehead down to her shoulder. They looked painful and raw. Two of them divided her eyebrow in three parts. Her eye was intact, but the outer corner of her left eye, as well as her mouth, were tilted downwards, pulled down by scar tissue, giving her face a forlorn expression.

He could see that the scars were cursed, but whoever was responsible for healing her had done a good job. He suspected that Poppy had been involved – and perhaps Pomona too.

He leaned over to Pansy.

"What happened to her?" Severus asked, unable to tear his eyes away from Lavender, who turned away from him, looking distressed.

Pansy looked up and followed his gaze. "The Daily Prophet said it was Greyback, during the battle," she said with an indifferent shrug. "I heard Granger say that she's really sensitive about the scars."

It was scratches, then, and maybe bite marks too. Severus held back a shudder of revulsion.

"She fought Greyback?" he said, wanting more information.

"No. The article said he attacked her. Granger saw what happened and blew Greyback off her. One of the teachers dropped a crystal ball on him too. Weasley and Longbottom killed him," she said. "Rita Skeeter wrote the story, and it was just so sentimental." A note of annoyance had crept into Pansy's voice, and she was stabbing at her chocolate pudding with the spoon.

"She's a werewolf?"

"I don't think so. She wouldn't be here if she were, would she?"

"Contaminated?"

"Probably. Why do you ask?" Parkinson was now watching him with narrowed eyes and a protruding lower lip, her tone of voice petulant.

Severus had shown interest, he admitted to himself. A lot of interest, and he had no idea why.

"The scars are noticeable. Curiosity, I suppose." He drank from his goblet of pumpkin juice, trying to adopt an air of languid disinterest. Parkinson looked pleased, smiled at him, and started eating again.

Severus threw another surreptitious glance at Brown. She kept pulling her hair over the damaged half of her face.

"You are a curious one, aren't you?" Zabini said. Severus was surprised enough to turn and look at him, "A dangerous thing at Hogwarts. A lot of surprises here," Zabini continued. He sounded genial enough; even so, Severus got the distinct impression that Zabini – for some reason – was not happy about Severus's questions.

"Curiosity also can be helpful," Severus said, serving himself some fresh fruit. He offered the bowl to Zabini, who declined with a shake of his head. Severus took a raspberry and bit into it. After swallowing, he continued, "After all, cursed scars usually have unfortunate side effects, other than the obvious. Curiosity is good if one would – for example and purely hypothetically of course – wish to avoid roaming werewolves, or maybe being infected with rabies." Severus gave Zabini a closed-lipped smile. Zabini cocked an eyebrow, nodded and turned away from him again.

Severus was happy when dinner was over. He was exhausted and nourished a faint hope that he would get another full night's sleep.

***

Arriving in the Slytherin common room where the students were gathering – reading, talking or playing games – he decided not to linger. He was tired and didn't want to risk having to talk to anyone. He made his way through the room towards the dormitory instead.

As he entered the room and closed the door, he looked around to see where his things had been placed. He found his trunk by the bed on his left. The bed wasn't visible until you closed the door which opened inwards. The best place in room. He would have plenty of time before anyone or anything entering the room realised he was there, and since there were no windows in the dungeons, the door was the only way in.

He went over to his trunk, opened it and took out some of his new flannel pyjamas and changed into them. He folded his robe, socks and underwear on top of the trunk where the house-elves would fetch them for laundry.

He sighed and sat down on his bed, feeling downcast, when the door opened and someone entered. Severus drew his wand and waited until he could see who it was.

The newcomer was easy enough to identify. The white hair was visible even in the flickering light of the two burning candles.

Malfoy closed the door behind him, threw a cautious look around the room, wand in hand, and when he finally looked left, he flinched as he saw Severus.

"Hello," said Malfoy. He had obviously been looking for his trunk when he entered the room, because as he saw it he moved towards the bed where it had been placed. It was the one on the other side of the door: the second worst place in the room, the bed opposite the door being worst. Malfoy sat down on the edge of it, looking at Severus.

"I'm Draco Malfoy."

"Severus Snape."

Malfoy smiled and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees letting his hands dangle between his legs. "Our fathers used to be friends ... of sorts," he said.

"I know," said Severus.

"I supposed you would," Malfoy said. "You look a lot like your father."

Severus didn't answer; instead he fluffed his pillow and propped it against the headboard. He leaned his back against it, putting his legs up on the bed. He made sure his wand was visible but made a point of setting it down beside the pillow. Severus looked over at Malfoy again. He had risen and gone to his trunk. He opened it and started to rummage around in it.

"Tired?" Malfoy asked from the depths of the trunk.

"Yes, very."

Malfoy resurfaced holding a pair of black pyjamas.

"So what do you think of Hogwarts and the House of Slytherin?" he asked. His voice had a slight edge to it.

"It's hard to have an opinion after mere hours."

Malfoy shrugged, took off his shirt and dropped it on the floor. He disposed of the rest of his clothes in the same casual manner, before putting on the pyjamas.

"What a diplomatic answer. But you annoyed Zabini. What happened?" Malfoy asked, giving Severus a curious glance.

"Pardon?"

Malfoy smiled and then blew out the candle beside his bed, leaving the room in complete darkness, since Severus had already put his out.

"Actually, you annoyed both Zabini and Parkinson. What happened?"

"I have an annoying personality?"

Malfoy barked a laugh.

"Perhaps, but in this case I don't think that's why."

Severus felt apprehensive about telling Malfoy anything at all, but he was curious. Besides, Malfoy was most likely looking to groom him as an ally; possibly even a friend. He would probably be more than willing to give him some information and – what was most important – he would not be inclined to talk to others about their exchange.

"All right ... I asked about that scarred girl at the Gryffindor table. Lavender Brown I think they said her name was. It annoyed them. I have no idea why."

Severus heard Malfoy chuckle in the darkness.

"They don't want competition," Malfoy said.

"Do explain," said Severus.

"She is a prudent choice, after all," Malfoy said, still sounding amused.

"A prudent choice? I don't understand."

Malfoy actually had the gall to snigger. "No, of course," he said, irony lacing the words. "I'll explain then: Brown is one of our resident Muggle-borns. The war might be over and that's good news. However, we're Slytherin and not well regarded among roughly three-fourths of wizarding society. It's worse than ever now. We need to be cautious whom we associate with," said Malfoy.

"I would appreciate if you would expatiate upon the subject a bit more," said Severus. He was interested now, he had to admit.

Malfoy was quiet, for just a tad too long.

"It's eerie. You sound exactly like him," said Malfoy. "I would appreciate if you would expatiate upon the subject a bit more." Malfoy deepened his voice and quoted Severus word for word. He didn't sound mocking though; he sounded more apprehensive than anything. "You'll scare every student your father taught to death, doing that."

Malfoy was right, Severus realised. Ever since he had joined the ranks of the Death Eaters, he had worked hard to get rid of every trace of his roots. The first thing he had dealt with was his speech. He had made sure no one would be able to identify his origins by listening to him. It had been both by choice and necessity. He had had so many strikes against him. Being half-blood, poor and working-class. Surprisingly, every single one of those negatives had turned into positives: half-blood like the Dark Lord; poor, like the Dark Lord had been; working-class roots made him unafraid of soiling his hands with dirty work, and with the added bonus of an ambition few could match. The Dark Lord had taken to him almost from their first meeting.

But now he was sticking out again. His carefully schooled way of speaking had been an excellent way of impressing and intimidating the Death Eaters. Here at Hogwarts it would be something the students could target as a point of ridicule.

"Well, I suppose you might be right. I'll take care," said Severus, keeping his voice bland, "You were saying ... " Severus said, trying to turn the conversation back to Lavender.

"Ah, yes, sorry. As far as a future career, you have it made. At least if the gossip is true. Personally, I'm aiming for a career at Gringotts." 

"As you said: prudent," said Severus.

"Yes." Malfoy fell quiet for a couple of seconds and then continued, "The ideal for a Slytherin would be a girlfriend who was one of the heroines of the Battle of Hogwarts. Preferably rich, pretty, with good connections and – this is important – Muggle-born, even if a girl from a blood traitor family might go a long way. No Slytherin girls of course."

Malfoy sighed and continued, "Please know I find this reasoning distasteful. Anyway, the closest we can get is Granger, the Weaselette and – oh joy – Lovegood. But the first two are both taken, and Lovegood ... no. Just no."

"You would consider the other two girls you mentioned?"

"No, and that's not the point. The point is that Zabini would. I find Granger particularly difficult to stand. Truth be told, she hates my guts too. With reason, to be honest."

Malfoy fell quiet again – Severus assumed it was for effect – and then continued, "But then we have Brown. She's Muggle-born, not rich, but fairly well connected by now as she was one of Potter's hangers-on. She was loyal to him through the years even though she used to gossip a bit too much about him. She also went out with Weasley for a while, by the way. The lucky guy who succeeds in convincing Brown of his honourable intentions will be seen as a good man who can see past her flawed exterior. She also has the added bonus of being Gryffindor. They're all the rage now, you know." Malfoy's voice dripped with acid on this last remark.

"So – "

"So Parkinson sees you as a potential boyfriend. You, as Professor Snape's son, have an exceptional father in the eyes of the wizarding world – unlike me. I think you can even get away with being sorted into Slytherin on account of him." Malfoy fell quiet again.

"What about Zabini?"asked Severus.

"He wants Brown for himself." Malfoy yawned. "He told Nott on the train. The way he figures, she's easy prey, because she's disfigured." Severus heard Malfoy yawn again and gritted his teeth. Of all the students belonging to Slytherin he had always liked Zabini the least.

"Parkinson told me Greyback gave her those scars," Severus said, fishing for more information.

Malfoy fell quiet for a few seconds and then cleared his throat before answering.

"I think he went for her because ... " His voice trailed off and Severus heard him swallowing, and then he added, "he liked ... young girls."

Malfoy knew of course. He had been there. He had seen and heard more than he should at Malfoy Manor when Voldemort had been in residence. Severus had almost forgotten that.

"Yes, Father told me. He found Greyback distasteful ... foul," said Severus.

"Your father was ... I liked your father," said Malfoy in the darkness of the room, and then he fell quiet.

Severus didn't answer him.

***

First, he thought it was the low voices of the rest of the boys who shared the dormitory that kept him awake, but it was now three o'clock in the morning and Severus still hadn't been able to fall asleep. He had twisted and turned until his bed was an uncomfortable mess of tangled bedclothes. He was thinking of Lavender.

Zabini was probably correct. Lavender would be easy prey. Zabini was handsome and had the ability to turn on the charm at will. She didn't deserve to be manipulated that way.

He burrowed deeper under the covers, trying to get comfortable when it dawned on him: he could protect her. It would be no trouble at all. He had done it for Potter all these years. He didn't even like Potter and had still succeeded. The adversary had been Voldemort no less.

Protecting Lavender would be easy.

Severus closed his eyes and, with that decision made, fell asleep.