The Burning Pen

A Turn for the Better
by Ruth Solomon

The story content is adult in nature and can contain graphic sex and violence.  Those under the age of 18 are asked to leave this site immediately.  You are not welcome here.  The author is not responsible for those under-aged who view these works.

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 8 ~ Snape's Best Memory

Year ~ 1977, Beginning of Snape's Last Year at Hogwarts

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore collected the folded parchments from each of his teaching staff. They had each cast their vote for this year's Head Boy and Head Girl. Of course, Dumbledore had the last word on the selection, but there was no reason to think he wouldn't agree to the choices this year, that of James Potter and Lily Evans. They were the most popular students at the school, as well as an item. It was suitable they should serve.

The tall, thin wizard walked to the front of the staff room and sat down at the table set up in front, carefully going through the parchments. His gray hair was on its way to becoming snow white as was his beard. He wore white robes and a white pointed hat, and looked over his half-moon glasses at the names written on the parchment.

He frowned slightly as the staff quietly chatted among themselves. He looked up at them, shaking his head slightly. He had provided the names of students with the top marks and least violations on their records. It was clear to see that they took more than that into consideration when making their selections. He understood the choice of James Potter and Lily Evans.

He just didn't agree with it. For the first time since becoming Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore was about to go against his staff.

He tapped his wand on the table and everyone looked up at him expectantly as he rose to address them.

"Dear staff members, your vote for Head Boy and Head Girl have been duly noted. However, I find that one of those chosen is not suitable, and there is another that has higher grades and lesser instances of detentions than Mr. Potter," Albus said, "choosing the Head Boy is not supposed to be based on popularity, but accomplishment, as well as fortitude. Mr. Potter is quite a likeable young man but you must admit he has been less than stellar in his behavior during his time at this school."

"What?" Minerva said, her black eyes narrowed. "I admit James Potter is a bit boisterous, but that's just youthful exuberance, Albus. Surely you're not going to penalize him for that?"

Minerva McGonagall was the Transfiguration teacher, but also served as the head of Gryffindor House and was looking forward to the bragging rights of having two Gryffindors as the student heads. This was unconscionable. Albus was a Gryffindor. What happened to house nepotism?

"I am not penalizing him, Minerva. I am simply choosing someone I know will take his responsibilities seriously. A young man with excellent grades, a nearly unblemished record and who is mature beyond his years. Someone who will act with authority and will not be afraid to make unpopular decisions nor favor friends over others in making those decisions. Besides, placing him in the position will serve as a check and balance against having two student heads from the same house. So . . . Mr. Potter will be a Prefect rather than Head Boy . . ."

Here Albus paused dramatically.

"And Severus Snape will be this year's Head Boy. He has been hardworking and studious all his tenure at this school, despite . . . shall we say . . . a very difficult situation that has followed him from the very first. He has the tenacity and strength necessary to serve in the position. I have faith in him."

The teachers fell into stunned silence, even the Head of Slytherin House, who had chosen a Ravenclaw for Head Boy. Then the murmuring started as Minerva addressed Albus.

"Severus Snape? Surely you can't be serious Albus. It's rumored that his allegiances are lesser than stellar. Besides, he has to be the darkest, most sullen student at our school. Head Boys are supposed to be representative of the entire student body. He will be called on to make speeches and do public service. He rarely even speaks. Not to mention his appearance . . ." the witch said with a sniff as the others, with the exception of the Slytherin Head of House, muttered agreement.

"I am well aware of the 'rumors,' Minerva, but will not allow hearsay to sway me. That young man has gone through much during his time at Hogwarts, and taken it stoically. He has shown restraint and nearly the patience of saints concerning his treatment here by 'certain' students," he replied, his blue eyes glittering at Minerva unpleasantly.

"Students who have been given preferential treatment, who had blind eyes turned away from their hijinks, and who rarely were punished for their actions. I believe Mr. Snape deserves at least one good year at this institution. I have no doubt he will perform his duties adequately, from speeches to service when called upon. And how he dresses or looks has no bearing on his abilities. This is not a fashion show or a beauty contest. My decision in this matter is final. Mr. Severus Snape of Slytherin House will be this year's Head Boy."

Albus sat down at the table and Minerva made one final effort.

"But, Albus . . . with that kind of power, he'll make life miserable for . . ." she began as he looked up at her sharply.

"He will only be able to correct those in need of correction, professor McGonagall," Albus said, reverting to her formal title to show he was speaking from a position of authority. "As long as the students conduct themselves with respect for the rules of Hogwarts, they'll have nothing to worry about. The topic is closed. Next on the agenda . . ."

Minerva fell silent as Albus read off the open slots in the schedule for the upcoming term. Severus Snape as Head Boy? This was going to be a disaster.

Yes, Albus was aware that Severus Snape was leaning toward the dark side, but he had not yet fallen completely into Tom Riddle's grasp. He was also well aware that if not for his mistreatment by the hands of his peers, he might not have set out on this path. The Headmaster hoped that by giving him a chance to do good service as well as get back a little of his own his last year, he might turn the young man.

Besides, he had always felt a little guilty about that werewolf incident.

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Severus Snape was sitting in the tiny living room in his home in Spinners End, his father Tobias having a few whiskeys and his mother in the kitchen washing dishes. The young wizard was trying to read as his father rattled on about his deplorable work situation and how he was unemployed and forced to scrounge about to earn a living.

"You two are bloody magicians, why don't you conjure up some money?" he demanded of his son, who studiously looked down at his book, trying to ignore him.

Severus had been in his room, but his father demanded he come downstairs and sit "with the family" and stop hiding in his hole like a rat. Severus sullenly obeyed him and sat there, his belly tight as his father once again worked himself into a frenzy. Once he was drunk enough, the physical abuse would start.

His mother Eileen washed the dishes slowly, hoping that Tobias would fall asleep before she had to come into the living room. She looked around the kitchen.

"I could clean out the cabinets, and scrub the floor by hand," she murmured to herself, trying to come up with more duties. "Then I can start supper."

She shivered a little. All they were going to have was cabbage soup, because that was all that was in the house. She was a witch, but magic could create neither money nor food, so she was helpless there. Besides, Tobias had snapped her wand years ago, saying she'd never turn it on him. The cabbage soup was bound to set him off, screaming at her, asking why she couldn't cook a decent meal for once.

Suddenly, Severus was hit in the head by a tattered old magazine flung at him by his father.

"I know you hear me, boy!" Tobias hissed at him as Severus looked up at him, his dark eyes narrowed. Gods, he wished he had enough nerve to cast the Killing curse on him.

"Why don't you make some money appear?" Tobias demanded again, although he'd heard the answer thousands of times before.

"Because, dad," Severus said tiredly, "we can't make money or food appear out of thin air."

"And why the hell not?" Tobias demanded for maybe the millionth time.

"It . . . it just doesn't work that way," Severus replied with a small sigh.

"Are you sighing at me you little wanker?" Tobias hissed at him, wrestling himself out of his chair. "You'll answer my fucking question without attitude. You're as tall as I am now, but I'll still beat the snuff outta you!"

Tobias staggered to the side as Severus looked up at him, wishing he could just get out of here. But he had nowhere to go, other than Hogwarts. He winced as his father shuffled closer, his hands curled into fists. Eileen began humming to herself loudly, something she always did when Tobias beat Severus. She learned to do it years ago when he nearly killed her for coming to her son's aid. Now she'd sing not to hear the sickening thuds and Tobias' curses. Severus never said a thing when being beaten. In the other timeline, he would be the same way under Voldemort's tortures. Being silent was his strength, his resistance, his quiet way of showing his defiance.

The young wizard stared up at his father, his face an open target. Tobias always went for the face first, getting satisfaction knocking Severus down, before punching and kicking his curled body.

Suddenly, a loud fluttering came from the chimney and Tobias turned around.

A sooty owl flew out of the hearth and toward Severus, who slipped around his father and lifted his arm so the dirty bird could land on it. The owl sneezed and held out its foot. Tobias fell silent. He always did when he saw anything to do with magic, which he feared when it came from an outside source. There were more of them out there, and maybe one day they would come and punish him for his mistreatment of his wife and son.

But they never did.

Severus took the envelope off of the owl's outstretched leg, and shook his head apologetically at having nothing to offer the bird. The owl looked around the sad dwelling, and at Tobias, who was glaring at it, then gave Severus' lank hair a little preen and let out a soft, sympathetic hoot as if to say, "You have bigger troubles, mate," then flew back up the chimney.

"It's early for one of those blasted letters," Tobias growled, swaying in place before backing up and falling back into the threadbare armchair as Severus opened the letter. He read it, then blinked disbelievingly.

"Wot's it say?" Tobias demanded.

"I've been chosen Head Boy," Severus said quietly.

In the kitchen, his mother stopped humming and abandoned her dishes, wiping her hands on her apron and appearing in the doorway. She didn't dare go any farther, but she looked at Severus, her brown eyes shining.

"Head Boy?" she asked, almost fearfully.

Severus looked up at her.

"Yes, mum. I'm Head Boy, if I accept," he said.

"You? Who in their bloody right mind would choose you to be Head Boy?" Tobias snarled, taking a swig from the almost empty bottle and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He might cry broke, but he always seemed to have enough money for liquor.

"You're nothing. A waste of breath. Not even a decent son," the Muggle said.

But Severus wasn't paying attention to him, he was looking at his mother who had tears in her eyes, and a small, unaccustomed smile on her face. She never smiled much . . . and neither did he. There was so little joy in their lives.

"That's wonderful, Severus. Of course you'll accept . . . but that means you have to go back to Hogwarts . . . immediately," she said, emphasizing the "immediately."

She wanted him out of here and beyond Tobias' reach. He was going to be seventeen soon. He wouldn't have to come back, and as much as she loved her son, she didn't want him to come back.

"Yes. Yes, I do. I'll get my things later," Severus said, drawing his wand.

"Hey! Just a fucking min . . ." Tobias snarled as Severus Disapparated with a crack of thunder.

Severus was not yet seventeen, and so by rights had violated the rule against using magic outside of Hogwarts, but his mum was a witch, so his illegal use of it went undetected.  Not to mention he wasn't suppose to Apparate yet, but . . . he was a Slytherin.  Bending the rules was par for the course. He could Apparate since he was fifteen.

"He didn't ask my permission if he could go! I might have wanted him to do something," Tobias snarled as Eileen withdrew into the kitchen, returning to her dishes as her drunken husband raged. It wouldn't be long before he came into the kitchen and took out his frustration on her, but that was all right.

At least Severus made it out.

That was the happiest day of Severus Snape's life, as well as his best year at Hogwarts. And like Dumbledore said, he was a good Head Boy. He showed a bit of nepotism toward his fellow Slytherins, and assigned James Potter the worst Prefect duties he could think of, as well as took Sirius, Peter and Remus to task every chance he got, but Lily was usually able to lessen the impact of his authority, managing to undermine it in some way.

It was an odd Head Boy/Head Girl relationship, considering that neither of them spoke to the other, but corresponded through memos and notes when they had to work together. Lily had been horrified to find out Snape was Head Boy and could find no logical reason for it, because she couldn't see through her own erroneous perceptions of him. How accomplished he was, how much more suitable he was for the position.

When Severus found out he had to make speeches, he studiously applied himself to his diction, improving his vocabulary and his delivery so he didn't sound like a street scamp. He learned to speak rather quietly, because people listened harder. His first speech about the upcoming school year and his plans for the student body and what would and would not be tolerated was given with quiet, understated authority. He didn't show any nervousness, he couldn't or else he wouldn't be taken seriously. He made it a point to tell the student body that any misconduct of Prefects should be reported directly to him and that it would be taken seriously, promising that no one would abuse their power while he was Head Boy, and any overt acts of favoritism or targeting would be punished quickly.

"We are all the same," Snape said from the podium. "We are all students and although the Prefects, I and Lily Evans have certain rights and privileges that you don't, be assured those rights and privileges will not be abused. All will be treated fairly."

From the dais, Albus Dumbledore nodded sagely. He knew he had chosen the right wizard for the job. Lily also spoke, but her speech was more of a pep talk than anything and nothing compared to Severus' sober, thoughtful presentation. Unlike Severus, she got applause, but it was all rather hollow. It was clear Severus was quite serious about his responsibilities and wasn't trying to win any popularity contests.

The Marauders didn't have a stellar year, to say the least. It seemed Severus always magically appeared whenever they were about to do mischief, and James was curtailed most of all, because he was a Prefect and had to be an example of right conduct.

He was absolutely miserable. Snape had him on Thestral duty, bathroom duty, dungeon duty, and assisting Hagrid. He always gave him the least visible and most mundane assignments, so he got very little glory being a Prefect. Severus also had "spies" among the student body, who watched Potter and his cronies, which was why he almost always managed to thwart their little plans.

Lily would always try to get to the morning meetings before Severus, and sometimes she did, but usually he'd have his assignments passed out to his half of the Prefects, which always included James before she did. Lily did bring it up to Dumbledore, who told her he thought it fitting that Severus give James his duties, since the two of them were involved. This way, it would be fair.

Lily snorted. Fair? James always shoveling Thestral shit with Hagrid was hardly fair. But Dumbledore had spoken and that's all there was to it.

It was the best year of Snape's life . . .

. . . and the worst.

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Young Severus Snape stood alone in the unkempt graveyard, rain drizzling lightly, his hair wet and clinging to his head as he looked down at the two freshly-covered graves that contained the mortal remains of Tobias and Eileen Snape.

His father had finally snapped, killing his mother in a rage, then himself. There were no relatives, no other family left for the wizard.

He was alone now.

As he stood there, he felt a presence, a comforting arm wrapped around his shoulder. It was Tom Riddle. He'd heard about the murder-suicide and come out of hiding to take advantage of Severus' pain and anger.

"You see why I want power, Severus? With power, I can stop things like this from happening. Your mother was a decent witch, murdered by your cruel Muggle father like a sheep at slaughter," he said softly.

Severus stared down at the graves, silent, feeling Tom's comforting arm. He was the only one who cared enough to attend. Dumbledore was away, and there was no professor at the school supportive enough to stand by him during this difficult time. He identified the bodies alone, made what scant arrangements he could, selling some of his most precious books to make sure they were put away properly.

"How is the elixir coming along?" Tom asked him.

Severus shifted. Maybe if he had worked harder, Tom could have come into power and stopped this from happening. Well, he might stop it from happening to someone else.

"I've made great strides. It should be ready in about three weeks," Snape replied.

Tom patted his shoulder.

"Good," he said, "and how are things at school?"

Severus told him how he returned to the school after identifying the bodies of his parents to find a parchment drawing on his bed of a witch being strangled by a man, who then shot himself. He believed Sirius Black had somehow placed it there.

"So cruel," Tom said softly, "but I promise Severus, help me and neither Sirius Black nor James Potter will ever trouble you again.

Snape's eyes narrowed as he continued to stare at the graves.

"I will help you," he said.

He returned to Hogwarts and stoically continued his Head Boy duties, suffering through Sirius Black's veiled references to his murderous father, the young wizard's heart filling with hatred until it blazed like fire every time he saw the Gryffindor. But he didn't act. He waited.

Tom would solve this problem for him once and for all after he administered the improved elixir.

But it never happened.

Three weeks later, he met one Hermione Granger

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A/N: I'm sorry for all the jumping about, but in the books, we never got a chance to see Snape's best memory, and I personally was left with a feeling that Dumbledore never really made up for not doing anything when Sirius almost got Snape killed by luring him to a transformed Remus, or helping him at all when under attack by the Marauders. I never imagined Snape to be a tattletale, so he probably just dealt with it, doing his best to retaliate without getting in trouble for it and doing it rather successfully. So I wanted to address this and had his last year be a good one, and that's why Snape was Head Boy rather than James, sort of redeeming Dumbledore in the process. I hope you enjoyed this Alternative Universe version of the timeline. It also explains the difference between his speech as a youth and how he developed his speaking voice. Thanks for reading.

A/N/N: I had to include the death of his parents. It was a grave oversight. I guess I was so caught up in the good, I forgot about the bad. Both of his parents were dead when he met Hermione.


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