Respect is truly something tangible.
Those who have experienced the disparity understand this best.
Although Regulus had the status of a pure-blood Black as a shield and was already a standout and popular figure among the younger students, the older years hadn't always acknowledged him.
In the past, when some of them spoke to Regulus, their tone often carried perfunctoriness or thinly veiled disdain. Especially when he communicated with the prefects regarding Duelling Club matters, he constantly had to invoke the authority of Professor Flitwick or Professor Stokke to be taken seriously.
Had he not possessed strong willpower, the murmurs questioning his role as club leader—whispers that reached him from various directions—might have shattered a younger wizard's confidence entirely.
But now, all students, regardless of year, greeted him warmly and conversed with him sincerely. There was no longer any trace of dismissiveness or feigned politeness.
His words were listened to—really listened to—as if they had always been good friends from the very first day.
Regulus didn't let these surface-level niceties distract him. He knew full well: older students often didn't take younger ones seriously.
That's why the saying goes, Don't bully the young and poor—because what's being bullied is youthful ignorance.
Just as Regulus had once said to Severus: Confidence.
Just have confidence.
No matter how ordinary you think you are, you must have confidence.
In a man's world, there is no room for inferiority—Confidence plus strength earns respect!
…
"Good morning, Regulus!" Shafiq, the Ravenclaw male prefect, walked over enthusiastically to greet him.
Shafiq also came from a pure-blood family, with many relatives working in the Ministry of Magic, both in high and low positions. Initially, his involvement in the Duelling Club had been half-hearted; he had even privately told friends that as Ravenclaw's male prefect, he ought to have been club president.
But now, he told everyone that his junior, Regulus, possessed limitless talent and was truly exceptional—he even claimed Regulus had nearly been sorted into Ravenclaw instead, and the pair of golden eagles he owned was clear evidence.
Whenever he spotted Regulus, he'd make a point to walk over and greet him from thirty feet away.
"Good morning, Prefect Shafiq." Regulus's manner was as courteous and composed as ever.
"Just call me Benny," said the tall and thin Shafiq with a toothy smile—clever but not irritating.
"We prefects are hosting a pyjama party, and everyone there will be among the best wizards at Hogwarts—I told them we absolutely had to bring you along, Regulus. We've got our own spot—" Benny Shafiq lowered his voice, "Loads of good stuff. Food, drinks, no teachers! I promise, it'll be a blast."
"You should come too! Everyone wants to meet you."
From an angle Shafiq couldn't see, a flicker of gloom and hostility flashed in little Snape's eyes—if our future Harry Potter had witnessed that look, he'd probably have turned and run on the spot.
"Can I bring a friend?" Regulus asked, glancing at Severus.
"Ah, it's the Duelling Club's little Potions Master... Oh, hello, Severus, I didn't see you just now..." Shafiq looked at Snape and said hesitantly, "I'll have to ask... You know, we have limited spots... Are you coming?"
"If that's too much trouble—forget it," Regulus said with a polite smile. "Thank you for the invitation. Actually, we're having our own party, and the timing's not convenient."
Severus instantly felt a wave of relief—Of course, our party has Regulus and Lily. How could you stupid older students possibly know more about parties than Regulus?
"Your party? Ah... I see..." Shafiq clearly hadn't expected this outcome.
"Reg, we need to eat—we've got class soon," Severus cut in at just the right moment.
"Right, then—see you later. I'll be counting on Benny for the next Duelling Club event."
"No problem," Shafiq said, though in his mind—
For the next Duelling Club project, he would study in advance and work hard in secret to amaze everyone.
...
After breakfast, the cheerful young Snape quickly made his way to the Potions classroom. This lesson was a joint class for Slytherin and Gryffindor.
He sat among the Slytherins, searching for Lily with his eyes, when his gaze accidentally met Sirius's—bored, casual, and half-lidded.
Normally, they would have glared at each other, rolled their eyes, sneered, ignored one another, and so on...
But before Severus could figure out how to react to Regulus's brother, the elder Black—who usually couldn't stand him—actually gave a slight nod of acknowledgement.
Seeing this, Severus, unwilling to lose in terms of manners, managed to squeeze out a stiff smile in return.
For some reason, both of them secretly breathed a sigh of relief...
If Regulus had been present, he would definitely have said—liking or disliking someone, being on different sides, none of that matters compared to respect.
To respect others is to acknowledge their dignity—there is no higher way of treating people in the world than respect.
It works wonders.
Severus lowered his head and dealt with the shrivelled fig in front of him, first poking it with silver scissors to make it easier to peel and prepare.
"Have the daisy roots been cut?" he asked his partner, then checked the sliced roots handed to him before adding them to the mortar.
His partner, knowing that having Snape in the group meant a guaranteed high mark for the lesson, was overjoyed and obediently helped by the side, neatly chopping caterpillars.
In the past, this wouldn't have happened— even the Slytherin students hadn't been particularly friendly towards him, a half-blood Little Wizard.
While waiting for the potion to brew, Professor Slughorn even had him walk around the classroom to assist other students who were struggling with their potions.
He first circled around the Slytherin side, then took a deep breath and slowly walked over to the Gryffindor half of the room, carefully examining the cauldron belonging to Lily and her Muggle-born friend, Mary—it was a bright, dazzling green. Everything was going smoothly.
Next to them was James, who appeared to be having some difficulty.
Potter's Potions grades were not ideal.
After the summer, Sirius—who had spent over two months playing and studying alongside Regulus—seemed to have taken some kind of brain tonic. His academic progress had skyrocketed, putting considerable pressure on James.
It was impossible not to feel envious—he had even complained to his parents, asking for a younger brother of his own.
"James, don't add so much rat spleen," Sirius reminded him from the side.
"Potter, the rat spleen—" Snape added at the same time, "Just because it's free doesn't mean you should dump it all in."
Is this Snape picking a fight again? —James's hand twitched, and he accidentally poured even more spleen into the cauldron. The potion turned a conspicuous shade of orange...
Idiot—Snape subtly rolled his eyes but, thinking of the Black brothers, held his tongue.
"Hey, James. Snape's helping," Sirius patted James's shoulder, signalling him to calm down.
Huh? What's going on? James looked confused.
Listening to Sirius's words and seeing James's bewildered expression, Snape felt another wave of relief rise within him.
"It can be salvaged," he said proudly, holding his head high. Without further explanation, he grabbed the leech juice and added several ingredients in proper proportions—all in under five seconds.
"You can carry on…" He walked away without looking back.
James, who had just been held back by Sirius, cautiously leaned over the cauldron—
The orange potion had turned green again. Though it wasn't as vibrant as Lily's, it at least looked normal.
No matter what, Snape's talent in Potions is indisputable, Sirius thought, quietly impressed.
Nearby—
"Lily, what are you smiling at?" Mary asked softly.
"Nothing," Lily blinked her bright green eyes. "It's just… it feels different now."
Hopefully, this time, it really is different.
(*๓´╰╯`๓)