Chapter Text
“No amount of magic will turn you into a real man.” Romeo felt another hit to his stomach. A strangled yelp flew out of his throat. “You’re just trying to escape this.” The kid, an older Gryffindor student in his sixth year hissed. He grabbed Romeo’s arm and yanked him upward.
Romeo’s sleeve rolled down and the dark mark came into everyone’s view. “No matter what you change about yourself, everyone will always know the truth…”
Hideous laughter faded into the soft pecking of Anubis’ beak on Romeo’s beside table.
He woke up in a warm sweat, his heart pounding in his ears. As Romeo fully woke up, the owl gently nuzzled his forehead with his own feathered one.
“I’m alright.” Romeo reassured the bird. Even though he felt as though he may throw up. “It wasn’t that bad.” Romeo sat up. He imagined another twinge in his wrist and he felt a headache forming in his frontal area as the familiar weariness of early morning swept over him.
“What time is it?” He wondered out loud, glancing at the old wooden clock perched upon his bedside table. Seven o’clock. Thirty minutes until breakfast began in the great hall.
Great.
He wasn’t too keen on eating at that moment. His birthday loomed over him still, and looming over his birthday was Lord Voldemort’s undeniable presence somewhere in the castle. How could he have practically forgotten Dumbledore mentioning him? Had he done it on purpose?
Or was everything jumbling together like an unfinished puzzle in his head? Stone, birthday, Voldemort, the latest topic of his nightmares, Anubis’ feeding schedule, grading… And the utter confusion that comes with remembering Severus Snape’s identity as a death eater.
“Professor Hypnix?” Romeo snapped out of the hurricane of thoughts that had been wrestling with his focus for the entire day. It was last period, his group of sixth and seventh year Slytherins and Hufflepuffs. “Yes, miss Catwhirl?”
“Just wanted to see how you were doing. You look a little…” she paused, visibly contemplating how to tell Romeo he looked worse than a teenage mandrake in a polite manner.
“I’m alright.” Romeo replied quickly. “I’m sure you’ve also experienced a burnout at the beginning of the school year.” He smiled softly.“How is your plant portrait coming along?”
Lemony sighed. “I’m a little lost, to be honest. I’ve always painted people or animals. Never plants. I’m not sure which ones to do.”
Romeo hummed. “You could ask Professor Sprout for ideas.”
“No. She and I don’t see eye to eye.”
“I won’t ask for context. I imagine it’s far too amusing for me to react professionally to.” He ran a hand through his brown and gold hair, mentally cursing as he realized how gross he felt after sweating so much in his sleep.
“Forsythias are nice, not often mentioned…maybe Lungwort, those are used in a good chunk of potions. I’m sure you’ve heard of it.”
“Lungwort is perfect! Professor Snape had us use it last year, he told us it was a good substitute for certain…somethings.” Lemony smiled sheepishly.
“I don’t attend potions class that often, actually.”
Romeo chuckled. “And why’s that? It can’t be because of Professor Snape’s cheerful personality?”
“He’s been as patient as a hippogriff lately. He totally snapped at Belvedere Bowstring the other day when he knocked over his essence of frogfern.”
The day ended with Romeo visiting the library, more specifically, the restricted section. Romeo snuck into the restricted section as a student more times than he could ever hope to keep track of. Simply put: the books there were far more interesting than the ones not restricted.
He strolled through the short shelves with a slight chill in his bones. He wished he brought a heavier coat for this, perhaps one that would blend in with the dark surroundings better.
Though there’d be no need for that any more since he was a professor now and it was perfectly fine for him to be in the restricted section. Perhaps just not at one in the morning. He was scanning the dust covered titles for anything relating to the stone.
He paid careful attention to these titles for he remembered opening one about Christian Sermons and awakening the entire staff with its unholy, wrenching shrieks. One of his first detentions. He remembers it rather fondly. Filch was in a particularly dark mood that night. He wanted nothing more than to hook Romeo up to an electric chair and let it go buck wild on him.
The middle ground that he and McGonagall agreed on was a week’s worth of afternoon detentions in the kitchens. As a kid, house elves scared Romeo to death. Even at thirteen he was getting nauseated by the thought of being in a kitchen full of them. Was it their large eyes? Or the general foolishness of wizardkind to downplay their abilities?
Despite his fears, Romeo became acquainted with a few house elves very quickly. Baking pastries for breakfast in the great hall was a surprisingly social affair.
The warm, vanilla-smelling kitchens were comforting and it seemed only one being in the entire place could keep up a poor spirit (Pitts). After the constant nightmares truly began to creep in on Romeo he would very likely end up in the kitchens around midnight to four a.m. The elves didn’t mind his presence and even helped him out with his homework- if he needed it.
The only subject Romeo struggled in was arithmancy, numbers were not his strong suit. He miraculously graduated from muggle middle school with an F in maths simply because his performances in every other class were so fantastically impressive.
But enough about that. Romeo shook his head.
His thoughts vanished as he realized he was lightly stroking the spine of the very book that earned him his first detention. Dangerously close to alarming his least favorite caretaker. None of these books sounded like they’d provide any real information on the philosopher’s stone.
Half of them sounded like made up stories made to scare children. The vomit-inducing Hexes and Curses of Romin the infected? Really? He sighed, seizing the small bit of weariness that spilled into his brain and using it to encourage himself to head off to sleep.
Anubis would be awaiting his presence as always. With one final glance at all of the titles on the pitch dark shelves, he turned around. His boots scraped eerily against the uplifted wooden floor- an omen of what was to come.
Standing at the chained off entryway to the restricted section was none other than Severus Snape.
Snape's tall figure loomed into view in the dim candle light. His thin lips twisted into a sneer as his dark eyes locked onto Romeo, like a hawk spotting its prey. With a casual ease that betrayed his inner anger, Snape moved inside the restricted section, his long, black robes billowing out behind him. Romeo found himself growing more and more curious as to what exactly snape wore as pajamas, if he ever went to bed, that is.
“Up late, Professor Hypnix?” Severus drawled, his voice dripping with condescension. “Observing the valuables?”
Bristling, Romeo attempted to calm himself.
He isn’t worth it…he isn’t worth it…
“Do you get a kick out of this? Out of pretending you aren’t just as loyal to the dark lord as I am? Or should I say…the most loyal of them all?” He gradually made his way to stand in front of Severus, his purple eyes flickering with a bird-ish anger.
He bit it down, then swallowed it. It burned in his throat like vodka.
“I don’t know what your problem with me is, Professor. I intend to avoid you as much as possible, after all, you were like…” He pauses. The name felt horribly brittle on his tongue. “Voldemort’s right hand man. His dog. Always following him around…sniffing in other people’s business.”
“Very courageous words coming from the fetcher.” Severus replied with a scowl. “You are quite cunning, aren't you, Professor Hypnix," he said, his voice dripping with a hatred Romeo couldn’t explain. "You avoided Azkaban, and then, with your sob stories, you slithered your way into Hogwarts, ingratiating yourself with Dumbledore and the staff."
Snape leaned in, his breath brushing against Romeo’s ear. Romeo stared ahead of himself, focusing his gaze on one of the tables that was left a mess in the library. Homework was scattered across it, melted candles awaited their next flame, a quill sat dry on top of an open book-
“Aiding the dark lord in his return…fetching the stone for him like a sick, desperate dog…”
Romeo hastily shoved his anger back where it came from and pushed past Severus, trudging out of the library and back into the silent school hallway.
Sleep would be stubborn that night.
Sticking it’s nose in the air with a scoff…
And not coming when it’s called.