Chapter Text
A warm golden hue over the bustling Hogwarts train station, the air is filled with excitement and anticipation. Students in their Hogwarts robes chatter animatedly, their laughter echoing off the ancient stone walls, while families wave goodbye, some with tears and others with encouraging smiles.
The Hogwarts Express, a magnificent scarlet steam engine, puffs joyfully at the platform, its whistle piercing through the noise of the crowd. The sweet scent of Pumpkin Pasties and Chocolate Frogs wafts through the air from the trolley already making its rounds among eager students.
First-years, wide-eyed and a bit nervous, cling to their oversized trunks, marked with initials and house colours. Some are guided by older siblings or friends, while others stand in small groups, sharing stories about what they hope to discover in their first year at Hogwarts.
Prefects scuttled about, helping the young wizards and witches find their way. Among them stood Lucius Malfoy, leaning casually against a pillar, his icy demeaner contrasting starkly with the flurry of enthusiastic first years.
"Honestly, Lucius, could you at least pretend to care?" scolded Dinah Yaxley, her tone exasperated as she adjusted the badge on her robe. "These kids look up to us. You should be setting an example."
Lucius scoffed, flicking a speck of dust from his perfectly tailored sleeve. "Look at them, Yaxley. They're a bunch of clueless little brats. I don’t see anyone worth my time."
Yaxley narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms. "That's no excuse. Some of them are nervous and need guidance. Just look at that one," she gestured to a small girl clutching her owl cage, her eyes wide with uncertainty. "You really think she’d be comfortable with a cold stare like yours?"
"I doubt she’ll last a week at Hogwarts," Lucius replied, smirking as he watched the girl fumble with her luggage.
"You’re a prefect! Just do your duty!" Yaxley's voice took on a commanding tone, and she pointed toward a girl struggling with an oversized trunk.
With a reluctant sigh, Lucius approached. "Need help?" he asked, putting on a fake smile.
The girl turned around, and as Lucius reached for the trunk, he realized it was not a girl at all, but a boy with dark hair and an oddly serious expression.
"I'm fine," the boy said flatly, glancing up to meet Lucius's gaze. "I can manage it myself."
Lucius raised an eyebrow, taken aback. "You don’t want to get on the train with the others? It’s your first year, isn’t it?"
The boy shrugged, adjusting his glasses. "I suppose. I prefer to handle things on my own." With a slight nod, Snape turned back to his trunk and heaved it onto the train, determination etched across his features.
Lucius watched the boy climb aboard, a flicker of something mingles with his usual expression. “Good luck,” he called, a hint of mockery in his voice.
“Thanks... I think,” Snape replied, looking back for just a moment before disappearing into the throngs of students.
With a shrug, Lucius allowed himself a rare moment of curiosity. The boy had an unassuming demeaner—untamed hair, a worn-out robe a size too large, and an air of quiet determination that belied his small stature. Yet it was his eyes, deep and mysterious like onyx pools, that ensnared Lucius's attention. They seemed to hold unspoken burdens, and a flicker of something rare: potential.
Lucius allowed himself a rare moment of reflection. In a world where blood status and connections often dictated one’s worth, this boy, with nothing to boast of yet, might just be the anomaly that could disrupt Lucius’s carefully curated existence.
or...?
Perhaps this year would be more interesting than he'd anticipated after all.
***
As the Hogwarts Express rattled along the tracks, Lucius Malfoy leaned back in his seat, absently swirling the contents of a potion vial in his hand. He thought back to that brief encounter with the first-year boy, whose name he hadn’t caught, but whose gaze had lingered in his mind. It was odd, considering that first-years tended to be forgettable in his experience, often nothing more than desperate young kids eager to prove themselves. But… this boy was different somehow. There was something compelling about him—enough that Lucius found himself lost in thought as his friends chatted animatedly around him.
“Lucius?” Narcissa’s gentle voice broke through his reverie. “You seem miles away. Is something troubling you?”
“Nothing of grave importance,” he replied, giving her a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Just… thinking.”
“A thinking Malfoy could signal doom on the horizon. Speak, or we shall assume the worst,” Amycus Carrow laughed, leaning forward. “Did the new students frighten you?”
“It’s just a first-year,” Tiberus Nott scoffed, adjusting his glasses. “They’re all barely worth our consideration.”
“True,” Lucius said dryly, although inside, his light ridicule only deepened his intrigue. “I merely found him… interesting. He has the kind of gaze that suggests untapped potential.”
“Or just good hearing,” Belladonna teased, tossing her long dark hair over her shoulder. “Are you sure you weren’t staring just a little too hard? Maybe you just want to recruit some muggleborn to befriend.”
Narcissa shot Belladonna a warning glare. “Don’t be cruel. You all remember your first year. Everyone can seem a little strange or out of place.”
“Ah, I rather fancy the idea of a black sheep,” Lucius mused, finally leaning into the conversation. An imperceptible smile crossed his lips as an idea blossomed. “Perhaps I should be the one to approach him—extend a hand, warmth, and all that. Honestly, if it bothers you so much, I might just be a bit of a—dare I say—mentor.”
“Oh, come now,” Amycus laughed heartily. “You? Mentor a first-year? Don’t you have *other* fools to sort out first?” He gestured mockingly to the expanse of Hogwarts beyond the window.
But there was something in Lucius’s resolute expression that silenced the teasing voices that preceded. He gazed past the flickering lights of the passing stations and felt the growing weight of his ambitions. The boy might indeed prove useful—who knows what he could become?
“Perhaps, but it is inevitably my decision. You few either can decide to support my endeavor or fester with jealousy,” Lucius replied, his tone firm, yet lightly hopeful. “Curiosity often leads to unexpected triumphs.”
“Stranger triumphs than Malfoy Gods, you mean?” Alecto grinned, raising an eyebrow.
“I like the chaos of it. Explore new territory—we could all use some excitement,” Belladonna admitted, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes.
“Well,” Narcissa said, her tone softer now. "I want to meet the child that's intrigued you, Luci"
***
The Sorting Ceremony, which he had long deemed tedious and predictable, but to the young first year he had glimpsed earlier on the train.
*What was it about him?* Lucius mused, running a hand through his meticulously styled hair. *He’s hardly remarkable—just another face in a sea of unexceptional children. Yet those eyes…* He could picture them, deep and dark, like onyx stones glimmering with a strange light. There was a quiet intensity in those doe-like pools that had drawn him in, a spark of something unnameable that made Lucius lean forward, intrigued.
*Another Gryffindor, another Hufflepuff,* he thought dismissively, his attention waning. But when the boy’s name was finally announced, Lucius sat up straighter, a pulse of anticipation racing through him.
*Severus Snape? Not pure blood but the the crest on his chest was definitely from a pureblood family, so he must be a half blood. Better than him being the alternative, I would have lost complete interest.*
The boy stepped forward, his posture a mixture of resolve and apprehension, and for Lucius, the world around him faded. *Come on, come on...* he urged silently, his heart racing as Severus sat beneath the Sorting Hat. The minutes felt like hours, and he could almost hear the whispers of his friends around him, lost in the haze of his focus.
When the verdict finally came—a resounding “Slytherin”—Lucius couldn't help the smirk that tugged at the corners of his lips. *Yes. That’s right. Welcome to the fold, Severus.*
The tension in his chest eased, *He’s one of us now. I’ll keep an eye on him. There’s something lurking beneath that surface, and I intend to find out what it is.*
As the first years settled into their seats at the Slytherin table, the group couldn't help but watch the new addition with a blend of suspicion and bemusement. What could Lucius possibly see in a boy who looked so out of place?
The feast began with a flourish of plates and goblets, the smells of roast beef and pumpkin juice filling the air. Conversations grew louder as the evening progressed, and Severus remained mostly silent, eyes downcast. Lucius found himself drawn to the boy, a new puzzle to solve, a potential protégé to mould in his image.
He leaned over to Narcissa. "I have a feeling about this one," he murmured. "He's going to be something special."
Narcissa shot him a sidelong look. "He looks like he'd be more at home with the Hufflepuffs."
"Looks can be deceiving," Lucius said, his eyes never leaving Severus. "And sometimes, it's the least likely ones who prove to be the most... surprising."
Amycus and Nott snickered, sharing a knowing glance. They had seen their friend's fascinations come and go, but this was something new. Belladonna and Alecto, however, studied the first-year with more scrutiny, as if trying to discern what Lucius had already recognized.
Severus's eyes met Lucius's for a brief moment, and the older boy saw something there: a spark of curiosity. It was the same look he had seen in the mirror when he had first discovered the power that dwelled within himself, the same look that had led him to seek out the Dark Lord. He decided to act on his intuition.
"Severus," Lucius called out, his voice carrying over the din of the hall. The boy looked up, his cheeks flushing slightly. "Would you care to join us?"
Severus hesitated, glancing around as if seeking an escape, but the weight of the Slytherin name and the power of his newfound house seemed to bolster him. He nodded and made his way over, his robes swishing around his ankles. As he approached, the others made room for him, eyeing him warily.
"This is Narcissa Black, my girlfriend," Lucius said, placing a hand on the blonde's shoulder. "And these are our friends, Amycus Carrow, Tibberus Nott, Belladonna Zabini, and Alecto Carrow."
Severus murmured his greetings, his eyes lingering on Belladonna, whose sharp features and piercing gaze seemed to unsettle him.
"Don't mind them," Lucius said, flashing a smile. "They're just surprised to see someone new catching my interest."
Severus took a seat, his eyes flicking over the elaborate Slytherin robes and silverware that adorned the table. He picked up a goblet, feeling its weight in his hand, and took a sip of pumpkin juice, the sweetness feeling almost too rich on his tongue. Lucius noticed the boy's awkwardness and felt an unexpected pang of protectiveness. He had never been one for the underdog, but there was something about Severus that was... endearing.
The conversation around the table was a mix of school gossip. Lucius tried to include Severus, asking him about his journey and his interests, but the boy was guarded, his answers short and cautious. It was like trying to coax a skittish animal out of its hiding place. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity for the first-year, so obviously out of his depth in a sea of pure-blood arrogance.
"Now, Severus," he began, placing a gentle hand on the boy's arm. "You mustn't be shy." The gesture was clumsy, overly affectionate for a Slytherin, but it seemed to work. Severus's shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, and he ventured a tentative smile.
As the meal continued, Lucius found himself watching Severus more closely. The way he ate, the way he held his cutlery, the way his eyes darted around the room, taking in every detail—it was all so unrefined. And yet, there was a sharpness there, a cunning that couldn't be taught, that only came from surviving in a world that didn't want you to succeed. He couldn't help but wonder what other secrets lay beneath the boy's bunny exterior.
Narcissa observed the exchange with a raised eyebrow, exchanging glances with their friends. They had never seen Lucius act this way before, like a mother hen fussing over a lost chick. It was both amusing and slightly alarming.
With a shake of his head, Lucius turned to his friends. "Let's not speak of this to anyone," he said firmly. "It's just a phase."
But even as the words left his mouth, he knew it was a lie. This was no phase—it was the beginning of something new, something that could shape the very fabric of their futures. And whether Severus knew it or not, he had just earned the interest of one of Hogwarts' most powerful students.