"You've made a lot of new friends, Severus," Lily said quietly as they walked toward the Student Council Heads' compartment, her voice unusually calm. "I'm glad for you."
"Yeah, yeah, new friends," Snape muttered uneasily, tugging at his collar, feeling something crawling inside his robes. "Much better than the old ones. Oh, of course, I mean people other than you."
A flicker of something unreadable crossed Lily's eyes but quickly vanished into serenity.
She reached out and pushed open the door to the Student Council Heads' compartment, revealing an empty room bathed in two slanting beams of sunlight piercing through the rain-cleared clouds, casting patterns on the pair of armchairs set side by side.
"So, what instructions are we giving the prefects?" Snape asked, eager to change the subject, secretly scratching at his itchy back.
"Are you feeling unwell?" Lily frowned slightly, noticing his odd behavior.
"Probably an allergy," Snape mumbled, avoiding her gaze. "You know, weather-related."
"I'll take care of most of it," Lily said as she settled into one of the chairs and pulled a notebook from her bag. "Nothing complicated—routine stuff: patrol the carriages, stop pranks, ensure the safety of first-years..."
"Good," Snape exhaled in relief. "I'm counting on you, Lily."
In both his lifetimes, he had never held such a big 'official' position. Had it not been for his firm resolve never to let James become Head Boy, he might not have even bothered to ask Professor Dumbledore for the role.
The train gave a long, slow whistle and began to move. Outside the window, the waving parents on the platform gradually shrank into the distance.
The prefects assembled one by one. When they noticed the badge on Snape's chest, disbelief flickered across most of their faces.
Though Snape had won the dueling championship last term, he had no other widely known accomplishments. So Dumbledore's appointment of him as Head Boy was a surprise.
Remus Lupin, though showing no outward surprise, kept glancing at Snape with a worried crease between his brows.
Snape knew that look all too well—whenever the Marauders planned some mischief, Lupin wore that resigned, anxious expression.
Maybe he worried for his friends, Snape thought. And he was right to. As the saying went, power unused expires. Without causing some trouble, this final year would be wasted.
While Lily briefed the prefects and assigned duties, Snape admired her poised figure and scanned the twenty-three prefects gathered before him.
His gaze suddenly locked with a pair of deep brown eyes.
She was a Slytherin prefect, an elegant and striking young woman, her long black hair tied back with a silver-green ribbon.
He noticed her watching him intently, occasionally glancing down at his wristwatch.
It was the gift Eileen had given him for his coming of age—a Swiss-made, high-end magical watch worth thousands of Galleons, as Eileen had proudly told him.
After a long mental search, Snape recalled the name of this dark-skinned Slytherin prefect: Sabini.
Oh, wasn't she the infamous "Mrs. Sabini" rumored to marry seven times, with every husband meeting a suspicious end, leaving her a fortune in inheritance?
But why was her surname still Sabini? Maybe too many husbands made changing names a bother, so she stuck to her own.
Snape straightened up sharply. What did that look mean? He had zero interest in her. Besides, who dared mess with her anyway?
Lily finished her instructions.
"All right," she closed her notebook. "You may begin your duties."
The prefects filed out promptly.
Sabini deliberately lagged a few steps behind, lingering at the door.
"Chairman Snape," her voice low and husky, "this is my first year as prefect, and I'm not fully familiar with the duties. Could you show me how it's done?"
Her voice was unexpectedly pleasant, Snape thought.
But if she was new, that meant she was only in fifth year. In fact, by eighteen, she'd bear Bres Sabini—quite diligent.
At that thought, a terrifying image flashed in his mind—himself bedridden, with Sabini holding a suspicious potion bowl, saying, "Severus, time to take your medicine."
"I'm busy!" Snape shook off the chaotic thought, but caught himself slipping into victim mode, raising his voice sharply. "Go away and do it yourself!"
Sabini blinked in alarm, fear and panic flashing in her beautiful eyes as she backed out of the compartment, unsure what to do.
"Why were you so harsh with her?" Lily's green eyes were filled with confusion.
"Because I want to live long," Snape said with a bitter laugh. "May we live long!"
Lily gave him a strange look but sighed, "Come on, we have to split up for patrol."
Patrolling the carriages was somewhat enjoyable.
Snape walked with hands clasped behind his back like a dark bat surveying his domain.
Lower years looked up at him with awe, lowering their voices as he passed. That feeling of being feared... not bad at all.
"That's the dueling champion," a third-year Hufflepuff whispered while introducing him to a first-year. "At Hogwarts, you'd rather anger the Headmaster than him."
"Why?" a round-faced little boy holding a Chocolate Frog card asked. "Is he stronger than Dumbledore? This card says Dumbledore's the greatest wizard of our time."
"Shh—quiet!" a fourth-year glanced nervously toward Snape. "Even if you pulled the Headmaster's beard, the worst he'd do is expel you. But if you cross this one," he made a throat-slitting gesture, "he can make you leave school on your own."
Snape passed the pair, then deliberately turned back.
The third-year went silent, the first-year dropped the card in fright. The card showed Dumbledore rising angrily from its frame, glaring.
"Make the most of Hogwarts, little one," Snape said slowly, bending to pick up the card and handing it back while patting the boy's shoulder. "Treasure my presence here—you've only got one precious year to learn from me."
He continued his patrol down the train corridor, oddly uplifted.
At an open compartment door, familiar voices drifted out.
Snape gripped his wand, paused at the doorway, and sneered coldly.
"What do you want, snot-nose?" James snapped before Snape could speak, already reaching for his wand.
"Mind your manners, Potter," Snape drawled, deliberately adjusting the gleaming badge on his chest. "Or I'll have you in detention."
"See, unlike you, I'm Head Boy now," he relished the flicker of annoyance on James's face. "That means I'm different from you—I have the power to punish others."