Chapter Text
“Ah, Severus, come in,” Professor Slughorn said, waving him toward one of the plush leather chairs in front of his rosewood desk. His eyes skimmed the frayed cuffs of Severus’ robe and the wilted collar of his shirt.
Severus sat stiffly. “May I ask what this meeting is about, sir? If Mr. Black is accusing me of cheating again—”
“Oh, no, no, nothing of the sort.” Slughorn unscrewed a silver‑lidded jar and popped a piece of crystallized pineapple into his mouth. “I simply realized we haven’t spoken about your career plans since fifth year. Your N.E.W.T.s are coming up, and all your professors expect great things. Have you given any more thought to what you want to do after Hogwarts?”
Severus’ shoulders tightened before he forced them still. When he spoke, his voice was flat, almost careful. “If you recall, Professor, you suggested I aim for a shop assistant’s post at a small apothecary. As a half‑blood with no connections, I doubt the Ministry or any major firm would take me on straight out of school — regardless of my marks.”
“Yes, well…” Slughorn cleared his throat. “You’re clever, Severus—very clever. But cleverness alone doesn’t open doors. You need to be sociable. Likable. And you must admit, you haven’t exactly endeared yourself to your fellow Slytherins. As for your popularity with other houses…”
A flush crept up Severus’ neck. “With respect, sir, I’ve never seen the point of currying favor with people who lack genuine talent. My work speaks for itself.”
“Oh, undeniably,” Slughorn said, tapping the open pupil file on his desk. “Especially in Potions and Defense. Which is why I’ve decided to offer you a rare opportunity—despite your… social shortcomings.”
“What sort of opportunity?”
Slughorn brightened. “One of my former students—Fleamont Potter, yes, James Potter’s father—has taken over the family business. Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion, you know it. Hugely successful. His store manager needs someone to help with accounts and the behind‑the‑scenes work. Naturally, I put your name forward.”
Severus stared at him. “You want me to work for James Potter’s father?”
Slughorn leaned forward, his chair creaking under the shift of weight. “I can see you’re surprised. It’s true—normally I wouldn’t go out of my way to arrange an interview for someone outside my Slug Club, but I can’t deny you’ve impressed me with your diligence, Severus. You deserve a chance to prove yourself.”
He paused, his gaze flicking—just once—over Severus’ hair before he continued. “The interview is scheduled for Friday at ten o’clock, at Potter’s flagship shop in Diagon Alley.”
He lifted a hand to cut off any protest. “Borrow robes from a friend if you must, but do make yourself presentable. We can’t have you embarrassing Slytherin House.”
Severus curled his hands into fists beneath the desk. Working for his bully’s father was unthinkable—but refusing Slughorn could ruin any chance he had of finding work in London.
“Thank you, Professor,” he said tightly. “I appreciate the opportunity.”
“Excellent,” Slughorn beamed. “And a little something to help you make a good impression.” He flicked his wand, summoning a green glass bottle with an ornate French label. “Hair tonic, Severus. We might not all possess the untamed charm of young Mr. Potter, but there’s no excuse for neglecting one’s appearance.”
Severus took the bottle stiffly and tucked it into his robe. “Is that all, sir?”
“Yes, yes. Off you go to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey is giving a special session on soulmark presentation. Very important.”
Severus bent to pick up his satchel. “If it’s all right, Professor, I’d prefer to return to the library. As a half‑blood, I doubt I’ll receive one, so—”
“Now, now,” Slughorn said, wagging a finger. “You don’t want to get your Head of House in trouble with the matron, do you? Especially after I’ve gone to such lengths to arrange an advantageous interview.” Something sharp flickered in his eyes.
“No, sir.”
“That’s what I thought.” Slughorn turned back to his stack of essays. “Run along, then. Plenty to do.”
Severus took a steadying breath before pushing open the infirmary door. The lecture was already underway; the thought of every head turning at his late entrance knotted something low in his stomach.
“Decided to join us at last, have you?” Madam Pomfrey called. Laughter rippled through the rows of students.
“Sorry for the delay, Matron. Professor Slughorn needed to speak with me,” Severus said, slipping into the empty seat beside Lily Evans.
“Now that you’re finally here, let’s get you up to speed. Mr. Malfoy, if you would.”
“The Matron was explaining that soulmarks usually appear on a wizard’s seventeenth birthday,” Lucius drawled, flicking an imaginary speck from his sleeve. “Soulmark presentation is an honor reserved for pure‑bloods. I don’t see why half‑bloods and Muggleborns are even here.”
“Mr. Malfoy is only partially correct,” Madam Pomfrey said crisply. “Soulmarks are more common in pure‑bloods, but they can manifest in anyone.”
“Excuse me, Matron,” Dorcas Meadowes asked softly, raising her hand. “Does it hurt when the soulmark appears?”
“Not at all.” Madam Pomfrey strode to the conjured blackboard and tapped a diagram of a wrist. “The mark usually appears overnight while you sleep. Studies from the International Association for Magical Research confirm the process is painless.”
“Don’t worry, Meadowes, it doesn’t hurt a bit,” James Potter said, flashing her a grin. “Just ask Sirius. His showed up in November, but he won’t let any of us see it.” He reached for the gauntlet on Sirius’ wrist; Sirius shoved his hand away.
“No roughhousing in my infirmary,” Madam Pomfrey snapped. “Soulmarks are private. No one should ever joke about uncovering one by force. At the end of the lecture, each of you will receive a leather gauntlet to ensure your privacy.”
“Is it true the marks glow when you touch your soulmate?” Marlene McKinnon asked. “Otherwise, how would you know? Some people get the same mark without being soulmates, right?”
“That’s correct. The glow confirms the bond,” Pomfrey said.
A chorus of teasing erupted from the boys at the back. She rolled her eyes.
“Which brings me to my final point. If you receive a soulmark, you must register with the Ministry. Prolonged separation from your soulmate can cause Anemocor Syndrome — it starts with aches and headaches and can become far more serious if ignored.”
“May I be excused, Matron?” Evan Rosier asked, gathering his books. “I have Care of Magical Creatures at the lake in fifteen minutes—”
“Oh dear, look at the time!” Pomfrey exclaimed. “I’m afraid we’ll have to stop here. My door is always open if you have questions. You’re dismissed — and don’t forget a gauntlet on your way out.”
“I’m not touching that,” Bellatrix said, eyeing the pile with disdain. “Come along, Cissy. Mother promised us bespoke ones from Madame Malkin’s. I’m thinking green silk with silver embroidery…”
Most students followed the Black sisters out, though a cluster of seventh‑year Gryffindor boys lingered, laughing among themselves.
“What did Slughorn want?” Lily asked, handing Severus his Transfiguration text.
Severus’ eyes flicked toward James Potter, who was—as always—the center of attention. “I’ll tell you. Just… not here. Library before dinner?”
“Sounds good. I still need to finish my Charms essay,” Lily said, linking her arm through his.
“You don’t need one of those, Evans!” James called. “Haven’t I told you? I’m your soulmate.”
“I’m hoping my soulmate’s more than just a pretty face, Potter,” Lily shot back, earning laughter and a few approving cheers.
“Maybe she’s hoping Snivellus will be her soulmate,” Sirius drawled, slouching against the wall. “They’re practically glued together.”
“Don’t be disgusting,” James said with mock horror. “Imagine being stuck with Snivellus for life.”
A few boys clutched their chests in exaggerated dread, laughing.
“Look on the bright side,” Sirius added. “He’d finally get that greasy mop scrubbed. Merlin knows it’s overdue.”
Severus’ hand twitched toward his wand, but Lily caught his wrist. “Don't give them what they want.”
Severus held Sirius’ gaze, fury simmering under the surface. “I won't,” he muttered. “Come on.”