Transmigration: Into the Life of Severus Snape Chapter 3 3: Fragments of the Past

The past was not a story told in simple lines of black and white—it was a tangled web of emotions, pain, and choices.

Severus Snape had lived a life of quiet suffering, monts of warmth swallowed by darkness, with fleeting sparks of happiness dimd by the crushing weight of reality.

And now, George Paddington, once an outsider looking in, had to live it.

As he lay in his dormitory bed, staring at the canopy above, he let the flood of mories wash over him. So were comforting, others infuriating, but all were his now.

His Mother and Father: Love and Disillusionnt

Eileen Prince.

A pureblood witch from a once-great family, reduced to living in the crumbling remains of her past. Severus had always loved his mother—she was the only warmth in his otherwise bleak childhood. She had taught him the language of magic, whispered incantations in Latin when he was still too young to hold a wand properly, traced delicate symbols of Ancient Runes on parchnt for him to decipher.

But love and respect were not the sa thing.

His mother was weak.

She had let him—Tobias Snape—win.

Tobias Snape, a violent, drunken man who had no love for his son, no patience for magic, and certainly no remorse for the bruises he left behind.

The mories of his father were sharp, jagged edges that tore at him like glass.

—The crash of breaking glass bottles.

—The sting of a hard slap, sending him sprawling to the floor.

—The bellowing voice, filled with rage, spitting out words like "freak" and "worthless boy."

Tobias Snape despised him. Despised magic.

And his mother, despite all her power, let it happen.

Severus had once idolized her, thinking her a quiet, tragic hero trapped in a dood marriage. But now, with the clarity of hindsight, George saw what Severus had refused to admit—Eileen had chosen this life.

She had chosen to stay, chosen to bow before a man who hated her, chosen to let her son suffer instead of walking away.

That was why, even though Severus had loved his mother, he had never forgiven her.

And now, neither would he.

The Marauders: Bullies Behind the Golden Glow

Jas Potter. Sirius Black. Remus Lupin. Peter Pettigrew.

The Marauders.

The golden boys of Gryffindor, the pranksters, the so-called heroes.

To the outside world, they were charming, talented, and beloved by teachers and students alike. But Severus knew better.

They were bullies.

Jas Potter, with his endless arrogance, believed himself untouchable, always ready to humiliate soone for a laugh. He had targeted Severus from the mont they had stepped foot in Hogwarts, simply because he was an easy mark.

Sirius Black, reckless and cruel, took pleasure in destroying people. His amusent was in chaos, in watching others suffer under the guise of pranks.

Remus Lupin. The so-called good one. The reasonable one. But his silence had been just as damning as their actions. He had never stopped them, never spoken up, because it was easier to look the other way than risk losing his friends.

And Peter Pettigrew? A worm, a spineless shadow who followed wherever the power went.

The mories played out, each one a bitter taste on his tongue.

—A jet of red light. His body flipping in the air as he was humiliated before a laughing crowd.

—A bottle of ink spilled over his howork, the Marauders grinning as he scrambled to salvage his parchnt.

—The worst mory—the day Jas hung him upside down for the whole school to see, stripping him of dignity, reducing him to a joke.

And what had been his cri?

He had existed.

They called it pranks. They called it fun.

But bullying was bullying—and they had gotten away with it.

Dumbledore, so wise and just, had turned a blind eye.

McGonagall, strict and competent, had looked the other way.

Even Slughorn, despite his occasional kindness, had never dared challenge the Potter na.

Slytherins were seen as villains no matter what. It was expected that they would be treated as such.

The injustice of it burned inside him.

This ti, he would not be their victim.

Hogwarts and the Teachers Who Mattered

Not all of Hogwarts had been cruel.

There were those who had recognized his talent. Who had, in their own way, helped him.

Flitwick – The Unbiased ntor

Professor Flitwick, the tiny but formidable Charms Master, had been one of the only teachers who treated all students fairly.

Despite being Head of Ravenclaw, Flitwick had never once dismissed Severus because he was a Slytherin. Instead, he had praised Severus' talent in Charms, encouraging him where others had ignored him.

In secret, Flitwick had trained Severus in dueling, recognizing his potential. They had spent evenings in empty classrooms, the tiny professor guiding him through advanced spellwork, helping him sharpen his technique.

Flitwick had believed in him.

And now, Severus had no intention of letting that go to waste.

Horace Slughorn – The Cowardly Opportunist

Slughorn was not a bad man. He had been good to Severus in so ways, recognizing his genius in Potions and granting him access to rare ingredients.

But Slughorn was also a man who avoided conflict.

He had never defended Severus from the Marauders. Never risked his reputation by standing against powerful families like the Potters or the Blacks.

Instead, Slughorn had helped in small, indirect ways—favoring Severus in class, slipping him extra materials, whispering quiet words of advice.

He was useful, but he was not soone Severus could rely on for protection.

Minerva McGonagall – Strict but Biased

McGonagall was an excellent teacher—fair, but with clear favoritism toward her own House.

She followed the rules precisely—unless, of course, it was one of her own breaking them. Then, it was a different story.

She was not cruel. But she was not just, either.

Madam Pomfrey – The Quiet Guardian

The Hogwarts nurse, Poppy Pomfrey, had seen his bruises, had patched him up countless tis.

Unlike the others, she had never dismissed his injuries as "pranks." She had never told him to just "stay out of their way."

She had been kind.

She had encouraged his potions skills, recognizing his steady hands, his talent for precision. It was she who had subtly guided him toward dical knowledge, seeing sothing in him that others had not.

Poppy Pomfrey had cared.

And now, George—Severus—understood just how few people had.

Severus Snape: A Genius in the Shadows

For all his suffering, Severus Snape had never been ordinary.

His mind was razor-sharp, his knowledge vast.

His Potions talent was beyond prodigious. He had innovated, experinted, rewritten spells in the margins of his books.

But there was more.

He was skilled in Ancient Runes, fascinated by the power hidden in language itself. He was proficient in Latin, French, and Irish, a talent inherited from his mother's teachings.

And then there was dueling—a skill he had kept hidden, a talent only Flitwick knew the extent of.

Severus Snape had never been weak.

But the world had made him believe he was.

George closed his eyes, his chest rising and falling with steady breaths.

He had seen Severus Snape's life, felt his pain, his rage.

And he had one thought.

"This life won't be wasted."

The system chid softly.

[Mission Update][Main Mission: Rewrite the Fate of Severus Snape – Progress: 5%][Side Mission: Master Hidden Talents Before Seventh Year]

A slow smirk ford on Severus' lips.

Ti to change the ga.