The grand ballroom of the Ministry of Magic gleamed with opulence, a reflection of both the wizarding world's triumph and its ongoing struggle to heal. The celebrations had been planned for months, a jubilant occasion to mark the defeat of Lord Voldemort and the end of the Second Wizarding War. Banners hung from the high, vaulted ceilings, emblazoned with the symbol of the Ministry, while an orchestra played lively music in the background. The Ministry's top officials mingled with representatives from all corners of the wizarding world, and the air was thick with a sense of relief, optimism, and a healthy dose of self-congratulation.
Severus Prince, however, was not exactly in the mood for celebration. His business empire, now a global powerhouse in both the wizarding and Muggle worlds, had only grown stronger in the aftermath of Voldemort's defeat. His name was on the lips of many, but that didn't mean the old world he'd left behind—the world of Death Eaters, of shadows and secrets—was far behind him.
As he entered the ballroom, Severus immediately felt a weight settle on his chest. There were too many faces, too many old acquaintances, many of whom still wore the stench of the past. It was one thing to walk through the streets of London or stroll the halls of Hogwarts as a successful businessman, but here—surrounded by the very people who had once mocked him, belittled him, and caused so much pain in his life—he felt the past press down on him like a suffocating cloak.
It didn't take long for him to notice familiar faces at a table near the far end of the room, clustered in a group. Avery, Mulciber, and Rosier, with their greasy smiles and sour looks, sat in deep conversation. Rodolphus Lestrange, the once-proud and dangerous man who had fallen so deeply into the Dark Lord's ideology, was standing without his wife, Bellatrix, who had long been locked away in Azkaban. Beside them, the Malfoys—the parents of Draco Malfoy—exchanged polite pleasantries with other Ministry officials. And in the corner, Wilkes, his once-closest ally, stood with a sneer on his face, as though the years of war had only made his bitterness sharper.
Severus's stomach churned at the sight of them. They had all chosen a side, and yet here they were—untouched, free. They had escaped justice only through the bribes and political maneuverings of Minister Cornelius Fudge, who had turned a blind eye to their many crimes, provided they kept quiet about their past associations with Voldemort.
"Prince," came a voice from behind him. It was Avery, his tone dripping with condescension. "I see you've done well for yourself. You look—what's the word?—successful."
Severus turned slowly, his black eyes narrowing as he met Avery's gaze. There was no warmth in the greeting, only mockery. Avery's hair was slicked back as usual, his face flushed from too much wine, but Severus didn't flinch.
"I see you're still playing the part of the sycophantic coward," Severus replied coldly. "How charming."
The others laughed—Mulciber, Rodolphus, and Wilkes all snickering behind their hands, the sound of it grating against Severus's nerves. The Malfoys were in the corner, their sharp eyes flicking over, curious about the exchange but unwilling to fully engage in a confrontation just yet.
"Not quite as charming as your little 'business empire,'" Wilkes sneered, stepping forward with a smirk. "I hear you've been making quite the name for yourself with that pathetic little muggle-helping company of yours. What's it called again? 'Prince Enterprises,' was it? How quaint."
"I'm sure your opinions on Muggle assistance are just as valuable as your opinions on magic," Severus said smoothly, though the bitterness in his tone was hard to disguise. "But then again, I don't expect you to understand the necessity of helping all beings—magical or otherwise."
The group laughed again, but this time, their laughter was tinged with jealousy. They had all once been the golden children of the Dark Lord, rising to power on promises of blood purity, dominance, and control. And now, here was Severus, a man who had walked away from that world, who had chosen a different path, and who had ended up more successful than any of them. He had created a company that not only contributed to the magical world but had expanded to help Muggles, squibs, and even werewolves—entities that the old pureblood families had always looked down upon.
"You really think you're making a difference with that company of yours?" Mulciber spat, his eyes narrowed in contempt. "You're just a lackey for the Muggles, Severus. A tool to make them feel better about themselves."
"Unlike you, Mulciber," Severus said, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife, "I've never needed to use others to feel good about myself. But if it brings you comfort to mock something you don't understand, by all means, continue."
Rodolphus Lestrange stepped in then, his face hard with arrogance. "Maybe you think you've done something noble, but I remember what you were—what you still are. You betrayed us all, Severus. You turned your back on your true heritage, your true power."
Severus's eyes flickered with something that might have been regret, or perhaps it was anger—an emotion he rarely allowed to show. But he didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he glanced over at the Malfoys, who were watching the scene with mild interest. Narcissa Malfoy, ever the picture of quiet, haughty elegance, gave Severus a polite nod. Lucius, on the other hand, simply stared at him, a calculating look in his eyes.
"The difference between us, Rodolphus," Severus said in a low, dangerous voice, "is that I have not been blinded by the allure of a dead man's cause. And I've built something that can last—something that will help generations to come, not just the ones who think their blood makes them superior."
There was a long silence, the group of old Death Eaters glaring at him with envy and suspicion. But Severus didn't care. He was done with them—done with their petty jealousy and their outdated ideals.
As if on cue, a loud laugh echoed from across the ballroom, followed by the unmistakable voice of James Potter. Severus glanced over his shoulder, and for a moment, his heart skipped a beat. There, standing near a balcony, were the three remaining Marauders—James, Sirius, and Remus Lupin—laughing as they chatted with other Ministry personnel. It had been years since he had seen them together, and in that moment, a strange feeling of disconnection washed over him.
Sirius Black caught Severus's eye and raised an eyebrow, before nudging James in the side. Severus could hear their laughter from across the room, but it wasn't mocking; rather, it seemed to be tinged with something else.
"Can you believe it?" James said, his voice carrying over the crowd. "Severus. Of all people. A successful businessman. I thought for sure he'd have ended up one of the worst Death Eaters, right along with Bellatrix and Rodolphus. But instead, he's helping people. Even Muggles. Even werewolves. It's kind of... surprising."
Sirius nodded, his eyes narrowing slightly as he glanced over at Severus. "I always thought he'd go the other way, you know? Never thought he'd be the one doing more for the wizarding world than we ever did. He's helped more people—squibs, Muggle-borns, and even those poor werewolves—than all of us ever could with our little adventures."
James looked thoughtful for a moment, then shrugged. "We didn't have his... focus back then. But I suppose he always had a point. We never really saw the big picture."
Remus, still standing in the background, shuffled his feet awkwardly. "Yeah, I never thought Snape—Severus—would become something like this. He always seemed so bitter and angry, but look at him now."
Their conversation fell into a reflective silence, and Severus felt a strange warmth in his chest, though he quickly suppressed it. He had never expected the Marauders, of all people, to recognize the path he had chosen or appreciate what he had done with his life. But in this moment, hearing their words, he found himself almost... grateful.
As the laughter from the Marauders continued to echo in his mind, Severus knew that the world was finally beginning to understand him. Even those who had once dismissed him, belittled him, or thought him nothing more than a bitter, dark wizard, were starting to see the truth.
And as the night wore on, Severus knew he hadmade the right choice all those years ago. The past, with all its pain, wasstill there. But the future—his future—was something entirely different