Chapter Text
Hogwarts, Slytherin Common Room
'Why don’t you just ask the girl?' Rath’s voice echoed in his head for what had to be the hundredth time that morning. 'It’s painfully obvious she’s your date to this little event. The two of you should at least match.'
Severus’s jaw tightened.
Ever since Rath had forced his agreement to the masquerade, the voice had become… persistent. Insistent. As though this ball were not merely an event, but something that had to unfold exactly as she intended.
“I’m not doing it,” Severus muttered under his breath. His eyes flicked up briefly, catching sight of Zabini across the room, surrounded as always—laughing, talking, entirely at ease—before he dropped his gaze back to the book in his hands. “She’s escorting me. That’s it.”
'She is courting you,' Rath snapped, the calm slipping just enough to reveal irritation. 'I told you I would stop taking control, but do not test me, boy. It is obvious. You will be arriving together, so you will ask—or I will.'
Severus’s fingers tightened around the edge of the page. “You will do no such thing.”
A pause.
Then, softer. More dangerous.
“My dear, do not test me when it comes to matters such as these."
Severus went still, and for a moment, he said nothing, weighing his options—pride, control, dignity—against the very real possibility of Rath stepping in and doing it for him.
With a sharp exhale, he snapped his book shut and pushed to his feet. “You’d better be right about this,” he muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets as he crossed the room.
The closer he got, the quieter Zabini’s little circle became. One by one, conversations died off, attention shifting toward him like a ripple. By the time he stopped just behind her, the silence was pointed.
Severus suddenly realized he had no idea what to say or how to say it.
Brilliant.
Rath, he hissed internally.
No answer. Not even a hint of amusement, and he could feel the heat creeping up the back of his neck.
Zabini turned, slow and deliberate, her eyes dragging over him before she let out a quiet sigh. “I shall be right back, ladies.”
She rose smoothly, brushing imaginary creases from her skirt, then turned to him. Without asking, she hooked her arm through his.
“Come.”
Severus stiffened but didn’t pull away as they moved through the common room together, eyes following, whispers already beginning to stir behind them. The door slid open with its usual groan, and they stepped out into the corridor.
The moment it shut behind them, Zabini let go.
“Well?” she said, turning to face him, arms crossing loosely. “You dragged me out here. Speak.”
Severus opened his mouth and— nothing.
He closed it again, jaw tightening.
Zabini watched him for a beat, then huffed out a quiet laugh. “You don’t actually know what you’re doing, do you?”
“I know exactly what I’m doing,” he said sharply.
“Mm. Terrifying.”
Severus glared at her, then looked away, running a hand through his hair. “I just—” He stopped, exhaling. “The masquerade. Colors.”
She blinked and then, slowly, a smile spread across her face.
“Colors,” she repeated.
“I was told,” he said stiffly, “that… coordination matters.”
“Oh, it does,” she said, stepping closer, interest piqued now. “Very much so.”
Severus resisted the urge to step back. Barely. “So?” she prompted.
“So,” he forced out, “what are you wearing?”
There it was, the question hung between them.
Zabini’s smile sharpened, something triumphant flickering behind it. “Why, Severus Snape,” she murmured, voice low and amused, “are you asking me to match with you?”
“No,” he said immediately.
She raised a brow.
“…Yes,” he corrected, glaring.
Her laugh was soft, pleased. “I thought so.”
Severus folded his arms, defensive. “It’s practical. That’s all.”
“Of course it is.”
She circled him slowly, eyes dragging over him like she was assessing something already chosen. Then, without warning, she slipped back to his side, hooking her arm through his again and guiding them down the corridor.
“What color do you think I should wear?” she asked, leaning lightly against him.
Severus blinked. What?
“What?”
Zabini glanced up at him, amused. “You heard me.”
“I thought you just said you had it decided,” he replied, narrowing his eyes.
“I do,” she said easily. “I just want to see if you’ll get it right.”
Severus frowned, looking ahead as they walked. This was a test. Everything with her was a test.
Rath hummed faintly in the back of his mind. Careful.
“I don’t play guessing games,” Severus muttered, more to Rath than Zabini.
“Pity,” Zabini said. “You’re in one.”
He exhaled sharply, forcing himself to think. From the corner of his eye, he studied her—really studied her. The truth was, she would look good in anything. That much was obvious. And this was a Slytherin event—half the girls would drown themselves in green just to prove their allegiance.
But Zabini didn’t seem like the type to follow something so predictable.
'Say white. She would look stunning in white.' Rath’s voice cut cleanly through his thoughts.
He ignored her.
“Dark blue,” Severus said instead, the words slipping out before he could stop them. His gaze lingered, unintentional, on the curve of her jaw. “You would look… divine in dark blue,” he added, quieter.
Zabini stopped walking.
Severus nearly walked past her before he realized and turned back. She was staring at him now, something sharp and curious flickering behind her eyes as a cool breeze lifted strands of her hair.
He frowned slightly.
When had they come outside?
The air was colder out here, the faint glow of the castle behind them casting long shadows across the stone path. He didn’t remember leaving the corridor.
“…White,” Zabini said slowly. “White was the color of my gown.”
Severus’s stomach dropped.
Damn it.
He should have listened.
“…Was?” he repeated carefully, catching the word.
Her gaze didn’t leave his.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The wind stirred again, quieter this time, like the world itself was holding its breath.
Then Zabini tilted her head, studying him in a way that made his skin prickle.
“Yes,” she said softly. “Was.”
Severus narrowed his eyes. “You’re planning to change it?” he asked as she started walking again, casually brushing her hair behind her ear.
“White would’ve made me stand out exactly how I intended,” she said, her gaze drifting toward the lake. “But… I do love dark blue. It’s my favorite color.”
Oh....Well. Take that, Rath.
Severus gave a small nod, glancing down at his shoes as they walked. “You could always… mix the two,” he said, almost absentmindedly, before catching himself. “Unless you don’t want to. I mean—dresses probably take ages to make. Fabric, fittings, all of that—”
He stopped.
Shit.
He was rambling. He never rambled.
Zabini slowed, then stopped altogether.
Severus braced himself, but when he looked up, she wasn’t mocking him, she was just watching him closely. Very closely.
“…Mix the two,” she repeated softly.
He straightened slightly, defensive already. “It was just a suggestion. You don’t have to—”
“No,” she cut in, not unkindly. “It’s… interesting.”
That did not sound like a compliment.
“It’s impractical,” he said quickly, defaulting back to something safe. “White stains easily. Blue hides it. Structurally, it makes more sense to—”
“You think like that all the time, don’t you?”
Severus blinked. “Like what?”
“Like everything is a problem to solve,” she said, stepping a little closer. “Even something as simple as a dress.”
He frowned. “Everything is a problem to solve.”
Zabini hummed, as if filing that away.
Rath stirred faintly, amused now. 'You’re showing her too much. Calm down.'
“I’m not showing anything,” Severus muttered under his breath.
Zabini’s brow lifted. “Talking to yourself now?”
“No.”
“Mm.”
Silence fell between them again, but it wasn’t the same as before. It felt… heavier. Charged.
Zabini turned back toward the lake, her expression thoughtful. “Blue and white,” she murmured. “That could work.” Severus didn’t respond, though something in his chest tightened at the thought.
She glanced back at him. “And what about you?”
“What about me?”
“What are you wearing?” she asked. “Don’t tell me you’re still going to show up in plain black and call it a day.”
“I was,” he said bluntly.
She smiled. “No, you weren’t.”
Severus hesitated, the words stuck somewhere between his throat and the air. Finally, he exhaled, shoulders slumping slightly. “Dark blue and white. I shall… match with you.” His eyes stayed glued to the faint scuff on his shoe, avoiding her entirely.
Zabini’s lips quirked into a small, satisfied smile. “Well,” she said, brushing a stray leaf from his shoulder, “I hope you find the perfect suit in time. The ball is barely three days away.”
She glanced at him once more, her gaze lingering just long enough to make his chest tighten. “I shall see you then, Severus. Good evening.”
With that, she turned and walked back toward the castle, her figure slipping into the shadows of the stone corridors.
Severus exhaled sharply, finally looking up at the empty path. Right…
How the hell was he, a boy with barely twenty galleons to his name, supposed to get a custom suit by Friday?
“Rath?” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the wind rustling through the courtyard. “Please tell me you already have this planned…”
'Of course I have a plan,' the voice purred inside his head, calm as ever. 'Do you doubt me already?'
Severus groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t even know where to start, let alone how to pay for it.”
“Details, dear. I handle details,” Rath said smoothly. “Now go. As much as I’m enjoying this, I’d rather you not fall behind on Charms.”
Severus blinked.
He’d almost forgotten.
“Right,” he muttered, turning back toward the castle. The ball—Zabini, colors, everything—was shoved to the back of his mind as he began mentally sorting through his essay. Incantations, wand movements, theory… he recited it all under his breath as he walked, pace quickening.
If nothing else, he would not fall behind.
Hogwarts, Great Hall
Severus sat at the Slytherin table, taking a bite of toast as he scanned over his essay for what had to be the fifth time.
“Must you read while I’m eating, Severus?” Avery complained, poking at his potatoes with visible disgust. “It’s nauseating.”
“That’s because you’re stupid,” Mulciber chimed in, mouth full as he tore into his third muffin.
Avery scoffed. “Better stupid than insufferable.”
Severus didn’t look up. “Better insufferable than incompetent.”
Mulciber snorted, as Avery looked personally offended.
“Merlin, you’re both insufferable,” Avery muttered, shoving a forkful of potatoes into his mouth.
Severus ignored them, eyes narrowing slightly as he reread a line. Something about it felt… off.
Rath hummed faintly. 'Your structure is weak there, dear. fix it."
“I know,” Severus muttered under his breath, quickly adjusting the sentence with his quill.
Avery paused mid-bite. “Did you just—”
“No,” Severus said flatly.
Mulciber grinned. “He talks to himself now. Brilliant.”
“I always have,” Severus replied coolly, not missing a beat. “You’ve just never been worth talking to.”
At that moment, the Great Hall erupted in the familiar flurry of wings. Owls swooped down, dropping letters, parcels, and occasionally snatching unattended scraps of food. The scent of parchment and feathers mingled with the breakfast aromas, creating organized chaos.
“Yuck,” Avery groaned, swatting a stray feather off his plate.
Mulciber chuckled, shoving another muffin into his mouth. “Careful, Avery. Don’t want an owl to peck out your eyeball.”
Severus, ignoring both, adjusted his parchment and glanced up just in time to see an imposing tawny owl land on the table in front of him, talons gripping the wood with surprising delicacy. It dropped a small, cream-colored box at his elbow before hooting once and flapping away.
He picked up the small box, brow furrowing as it suddenly expanded in his hands, growing heavier, almost as if it had a will of its own.
Oh, my gift is here! Rath’s voice practically vibrated in his head, excitement unmistakable. Severus swatted away Mulciber’s curious hand before it could snatch at the box.
He lifted the lid just slightly, peeking inside. A swath of dark blue fabric shimmered in the light, smooth and rich, and he quickly closed the box again. With a flick of his wand, he shrank it back down, sliding it into his pocket where it disappeared beneath his robes.
“What was that?” Avery demanded, leaning over, curiosity sharp in his tone.
“Nothing that concerns you,” Severus muttered, keeping his eyes trained on his breakfast.
Mulciber, however, wasn’t so easily deterred. “Sevvy, c’mon, you can’t just—”
Severus ignored him, slipping his chair back and standing. “I need some air,” he said simply, walking toward the nearest exit.
“You meddling woman,” he muttered into the empty hall, hands tightening on the box in his pocket as he made his way toward the Charms classroom.
'You will look perfect!' Rath’s triumphant voice echoed in his mind, impossibly gleeful.
Severus rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath, but even as he pushed open the door to Charms, he couldn’t stop the corner of his mouth from twitching upward. Perfect.
Ha! We’ll see about that.