"What is wrong with you this evening, Severus? Is Master Leitner being too hard on you," his brother Geta asked.

The tone he'd used with the second question was dripping with sarcasm. It was one used with a small child feeling they were being treated unfairly on the schoolyard. As if he was implying Master Leitner would be too taxing for Severus.

Geta had no idea who the Dark Lord really was or what he was about. Severus had told him about Voldemort, but he hadn't told him every nitty gritty detail. He couldn't, really. There were things as accepting of the magical world as his brother was that he just wouldn't, couldn't, understand. This was one of them.

His twin did not understand the difficulties Severus experienced at Hogwarts. The sole difference that existed between the two brothers, Geta acclimated to his environment far better and easier than Severus did. He always had. The primary school they'd attended in Cokeworth was in their neighbourhood. So, the fellow students were of the same socioeconomic background as the Snapes were. He did not understand how different Hogwarts had been, how different Severus had been compared to most of the other students. Feeling, despite knowing he was magical and received his letter, that he didn't belong there.

So while his brother was aware he wasn't as knowledgeable as he could be. There were limits to what he could share, even Severus knew that. Geta seemed to know, and accept, this as well.

To think any of Master Leitner's initiations would have come close to what Severus had to do to not just be accepted as a Death Eater but earn the position he had thus far was laughable.

"Nothing and no, he is not. No more than I'd expect him to be at any rate," he said.

A potions apprenticeship was not expected to be easy. At least Severus had not expected it to be so. He supposed some might enter into it differently.

His Dark Lord had given him a few masters to choose from when the topic of an apprenticeship was brought up. He'd thought at that meeting that he was going to be more severely punished than he ended up being. Telling the Dark Lord so soon after his initiation that he wanted to leave had not gone … well.

Eventually, though, the Dark Lord had seen that having a potions master as capable as Severus showed the potential of being in his inner circle could behoove him immensely. So the torture for the audacity of thinking he could take the Mark and then leave without talking it over with his Dark Lord first had stopped after a while and a short list of like-minded masters had been given to Severus.

He'd chosen Leitner because he was maybe not exceptional but certainly was known to be beyond great at his chosen vocation. Severus didn't want anything handed to him, and if he was going to commit two (or more) years of his life he wanted all the education and then some he could get out of the arrangement. No other approved master had offered that opportunity.

While like-minded to the Dark Lord's thought process, he wasn't deep in it. Severus didn't want that in his studies. He wanted to be able to focus on his studies not worry that he and his master would be shuttled off here and there. He, of course, had kept that part influencing his decision at all to himself.

No, it wasn't his apprenticeship or anything like that.

A year into it now, he knew without a doubt he was on the right path. Anyone could wave a wand. Not everyone could do what he could with potions. (Truthfully, not many could do what he could do with a wand either.)

He rubbed his chest a bit with a sigh, wondering what the devil was going on. He'd never experienced anything remotely like this.

Almost twenty years old and he'd never felt anything like this either. He'd been beaten by his father, the Marauders, and Death Eaters. He bore the scars to prove it, not all of them physical either. He could admit that.

This was different but no less disconcerting and painful.

Certainly a different type of pain. Bearable. Not something he wished to die from, just wanted it to stop.

He was too young for anything like heartburn or a heart attack.

The only spot on his body where he and his twin were not identical was what was … burning and throbbing today. He had a birthmark that looked peculiarly like a heart on his chest just above where his heart was. Severus and Geta had spent many hours exploring to see if Geta had a similar mark anywhere on his body.

He did not.

The only good thing? The location of it meant it was covered by a shirt so the boys were impossible to tell apart by anyone but their mother. Even when they were shirtless it was so faint that to the untrained eye it was barely discernible. He and Geta saw the difference, though.

As they'd long ago stopped being given a bath by their mother or taking one together at all, Severus wondered if their mum even remembered the mark existed. He was fairly confident their father was not aware of this difference in his twin sons, even as babies he didn't believe their sire paid them that close of attention.

He himself hadn't given it much thought for years. It was just a birthmark.

Millions had them.

Even if his identical twin did not.

Today, though.

Well, for several hours now, he wasn't sure how long because it started while he was sleeping, the birthmark had been … burning. Not like the Dark Mark, but still he knew what magic felt like and this was that. And if whatever the mark was that Severus had and Geta didn't was magical it would make sense that his twin did not have it.

Certainly, it wasn't nearly as unpleasant as the torture and abuse he'd been subject to, but it was … annoying. Especially given it's suddenness. It had started very early in the morning, disrupting his normally rather restful sleep, as a kind of dull ache but progressively it had gotten almost unbearable as the day wore on.

Finally, after what seemed like hours and the pain so sharp it felt like he was being stabbed he opened his shirt with a flick of his wrist.

"What do you see?" he asked.

"Your lily white skin," Geta said deadpan.

"Thank you for stating the obvious," Severus drawled.

"In truth, your birthmark. Is that what you're asking me about? Because it appears … darker, black now I'd say. I realize it's been some time, years I suppose, since I've seen it, but I don't recall it looking like this."

Severus summoned a hand mirror he knew Geta had in the nearby bathroom. His … female guests used that bathroom and they seemed to like to use such things to primp in an attempt at impressing him and claiming the evidently coveted position as Mrs. Hans Gruber.

Severus looked in the mirror and shook his head as he ran the tip of his index finger over the mark in question. For the burning it had been doing for hours now it should be red and festered looking.

Until now it'd been a barely noticeable light brown, like an almost translucent freckle just shaped like a heart. The only reason he had even really noticed it was that his mum had made such a huge deal about him being born with a heart on the outside and the inside.

This, though, was no longer barely noticeable. It was black and if he didn't know better seemed to be … beating. Like the staccato of a pulse, but there was no pulse point there.

"I think I'll take that whiskey now," he murmured.

And Geta laughed.

"Bastard," he hissed.

"It's why you love me."

Severus nodded simply. His brother was right. In life there was one thing Severus Snape knew he could count on.

Geta Snape.

His twin knew the same in reverse.

Story ©Susan Matthews/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com