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It usually takes six months to brew this certain potion, although Severus knew how to do it in five.
"It's a curious little thing," Slughorn used to say. "It gives the drinker unnaturally good luck."
Severus kept that in mind, for one thing he had always needed was luck. He especially needed luck when dealing with the likes of a certain James Potter who thought himself entitled enough to create an unflattering nickname that would haunt Severus for the rest of his life.
The day he had first successfully brewed Felix Felicis was, at the time, the luckiest day Severus had ever experienced, and it had nothing to do with the potion. He had pocketed the vial holding the lucky liquid in his robes, determined to use it if he needed it. That was the day that two Death Eaters approached him and he was introduced to the Dark Lord. That was the day that Severus finally felt that his life had a purpose and he embraced the opportunity with a vengeance. The day after when he opted not to take the vial of Felix Felicis with him was the day that he received word that Lily was to be married to the vilest wizard that he had ever despised. Ever since then, it became a daily ritual for him to pocket the liquid luck that he had made, keeping it in hand in case he was forced to use it. He was convinced that it was a weapon, the weight of the vial within his robes becoming somewhat of an unorthodox lucky charm by its presence rather than its function.
He had the potion in the pocket of his robes when he was given task after task by the Dark Lord and successfully completed them to his fancy. He had the potion in his hand when he committed his first crime where the Aurors were unable to find his identity. Severus even had the potion on his person when he happened to overhear the prophecy spoken by Trelawney only to go to the Dark Lord immediately to relay the news and receive high praise.
He never drank it; he never wanted to. Time proved the perfect test for a young wizard to successfully mould his own life without the power of a potion that could alter fate. Every day Severus would pocket the vial without thought and every day he forgot that fact more and more. He was convinced that he had made his own destiny. Why undermine his own abilities with a weaker man's potion?
The day Severus heard the Dark Lord utter Lily's name he had forgotten about the liquid luck. The day he begged the Dark Lord to save her life he had ignored the familiar weight of the vial in his robes. The day he had promised his life to Albus Dumbledore in exchange to save the life of the woman he loved, Severus hadn't remembered that he had a weapon.
Why couldn't he have remembered?
It was only on the day when he saw Lily's lifeless body that he had frantically searched for the vial. He had thought it brought him luck but it had done nothing for him. In a rage he had smashed the vial before taking Lily's baby into his arms and left the only woman he had ever cared for.
It was years later when Dumbledore told him that Lily's son was to attend Hogwarts that Severus let himself remember. He was convinced that he wouldn't care for the boy. How could he when Severus hated his very existence? But when his glance fell on the eleven year old, he couldn't help but notice what everyone else did.
Lily's eyes. He has Lily's eyes. How could he have ever forgotten that the boy had her eyes?
That night, Severus started brewing the potion that had never brought him luck. And even though any other wizard would have promised the Headmaster the potion in six months, he promised to complete it in five.