Petunia and the Little Monster

September 1973

Candles were bobbing above his head, bathing the Great Hall with flickering, orange light, their shine reflected in the glaze covering the big roast sitting right in front of Severus. The Slytherin table was groaning under mountains of food that had manifested from thin air just moments ago at the snap of the Headmaster's fingers, stacked pyramids of sausages dripping with fat, the roasts with the shining honey crust, sizzling bacon, potatoes prepared in all possible ways from baked to mashed, a sad little portion of assorted vegetables and beans, silver boats filled to the brim with aromatic gravy - it was more food than Severus had seen in during all of his summer break combined.

But even though it was sitting right in front of him, the tantalising smells making his mouth water and perfuming the air with a malty and sweet note, he couldn't touch it.

He could, he amended, but he wouldn't have a chance to digest it before it was forced out of him again.

His dark eyes flitted across the faces around him, some new and young, most of them familiar and eliciting a sting of deep hatred in his gut. He had imagined many times how he would retaliate against all of the students sitting and feasting around him, feed them some of his own concoctions and watch what effect they would have on humans as opposed to rats.

Though he could barely tell a difference between the two beings when he looked around at their small, greedy eyes, pinched faces, crumbs of meat and fat shining on their quickly working chins - pests, the lot them, bottom feeders but thinking of themselves as leaders and shining examples of wizardkind. 

At least Malfoy had graduated this year, taking most of his obnoxious and unimaginative but cheerfully brutal cronies with him. As of now it was still undecided who would take his place, Rosier and both of the Carrow twins having a silent confrontation over the food, eyeing the others while ripping meat off bones with their crooked, sharp teeth. Severus' eyes wandered further down the table, not interested in their little rivalry, halting when he met startling grey-green ones. 

Black. Too young yet to take over but already being flattered by everyone around him simply due to his lineage. Not that he was holding court, the way Malfoy had so enjoyed doing - instead he was cold and stand-offish in his pride, not letting anyone close. The most animated he ever looked was when he sneered at Severus and prepared to throw a non-lethal curse his way after ambushing him in an empty corridor.

Not that Severus didn't give as good as he got when it came to the brat. He had already invented a new spell that would make Black's toenails grow backwards and he couldn't wait to use it and see him suffer. Judging by the manic gleam in Black's eyes he must be planning something similar. 

Regulus Black was one of the few Slytherins whose disgusting, rotting innards hid behind a pretty facade that had miraculously emerged despite the long-standing tradition of inbreeding every Pureblood family was immersed in. His hair was long, like Severus', but slightly curly and always maintained well. His face, a bit too slim and pointed to be conventionally attractive, was saved by high cheekbones and his best feature, those startling eyes the colour of forest mist. 

Almost as pretty as his Gryffindor brother, Severus thought and felt his face split in a mean grin. If there was one sore spot for Black, it was definitely his older brother, maybe the only person his fellow Slytherins loathed with more fervour than the half-bloods besmirching their own house - Severus among them. 

He was only one of few who wasn't purebred but still sorted into Slytherin, and his brethren either suffered in silence or learned the demeaning art of boot licking, degrading themselves so far that their fellow classmates wouldn't see the need to add to it. Severus stuck out because he refused to do either, fighting back instead of cowering or flattering.