A tattered screen door slammed behind the small, pale boy. His face was set hard, trying to hold back tears. He looked about nine or ten years old, with unkempt, greasy hair and mismatched clothing. From the ramshackle house behind him came a man's voice raised in fury over the sound of a woman sobbing.

"Severus!" the man shouted, "Severus! Get back here! Severus!" Then, to the woman, "Shut up, you bitch!"

The young Snape ran across the weedy lawn, away from his house and his father's angry voice. He felt the familiar cold fear rush through him. He knew he would have to face his father's wrath when he returned, but he didn't care. He had to get away. Maybe by the time he got back his father would have drunken himself to sleep. He winced as he ran, pain shooting through him with every step from being thrown down onto the hard kitchen floor.

He could still hear his father's shouts echoing down the silent street. His mother screamed again, and it cut through him like a knife. But if anyone heard, they did nothing. On this lonely street, neighbors kept to themselves. His wasn't the only family to know violence.

Snape ran, not stopping until he got to the playground. Dusk was falling fast and he knew he would have a long walk home in the dark. He folded himself up into a plastic play tunnel. Maybe he would just sleep here... but he knew that would mean more punishment in the morning. He thought of his mother, and his fear was quickly swallowed by anger. She was a witch, wasn't she? And his father was only a Muggle. Why did she let him treat them like that? Resentment burned inside him as he looked down at the scorch mark on his arm. That had been her work, a curse thrown at him because he had not completed his chores to her specifications. He hated them both.

He was wearing nothing but a dirty, thin, smocklike shirt over his too-small jeans and as the sky grew dark he started to shiver. The tears he was trying so hard to squelch started to spill over. He drew a shaky breath and started to sob, bitter tears running down his dirty face. He struggled to master his emotions, hating himself for crying.

Then, suddenly, he stopped, startled into silence. There was someone else in the quiet playground too.

Lily sat on a rusty swing, absentmindedly pushing it slowly back and forth with her foot. Tears trickled down from her brilliant green eyes. She nursed the hand-shaped bruise on her arm, her father's voice echoing in her head. "Shut up, you brat, and stop crying! The neighbors will hear!" He had grabbed her by her wrist and slammed her against the wall! Of course she was crying! The injustice of it stung more than the bruises. She hated the nights her mother stayed out late. She knew her mother needed to work. She knew that. But still...

She tried to crush down her resentment as tears began to pour harder down her cheeks. And her father, a well-to-do businessman, so concerned with appearances, so desperate that everyone think they had such a happy, nice, cute little family... Her face darkened and she kicked the ground with her foot, twisting her swing around its chain and letting it slowly spin her round as it untangled.

Suddenly, Lily looked up as a dark figure entered the playground through the other gate. She stiffened, brief panic shooting through her. It was almost dark now. She relaxed slightly as she saw how small the figure was. It looked like a child about her age. As she listened hard, for a second she thought she could hear soft crying. Then the figure was silent.

Snape crawled slowly out of the plastic tunnel, looking suspiciously at the small figure on the swing. He stood up and tried to peer through the gathering darkness. It looked like a Muggle child about his age. Had they heard him crying? His face flushed and his expression tightened in embarrassed anger. He stepped forward; the thought of taking out some of his unhappiness on this stupid Muggle was too tempting...

Lily slid off the swing and walked a few steps towards the streetlight at the edge of the playground, watching the small figure come towards her. She was not sure whether or not to run away or to go forward. In the end, her curiosity outweighed her apprehension. She wiped the tears from her face and looked hard at the approaching figure. It was quite dark now and the child's face was covered in shadow. From the silhouette, she took it to be a girl - long hair, slight build, wearing something that looked a bit like a dress... She stepped into the yellow circle of lamplight

Snape watched as the other child was illuminated by the streetlight. He drew a breath as he caught sight of the dark red hair, tumbling in soft waves over the girl's shoulders and down her back. It was her! All the anger momentarily rushed out of him. He blushed and hesitated, remembering with a squirm of discomfort their last meeting. He started to turn away, then stopped. Maybe, just maybe... He took a deep breath and stepped forward into the circle cast by the streetlight.

Lily's eyes widened in surprise as the other child stepped into the light. It was not a girl after all, but a thin boy. She recognized him - he was the boy who had jumped out at Tuney and her in this very playground, declaring that she was a witch. She looked at him more closely now. He had a starved look about him and the yellow light only made his complexion more sallow and sickly looking. His dirty black hair hung just above his shoulders. He was slightly shorter than her, wearing a pair of worn jeans that ended above his ankles and an odd, long shirt that she had mistaken for a dress in the dark. He glanced briefly up at her, then quickly looked hard at the ground. He seemed awkward and embarrassed, regretful of his decision to step into the light. His grimy face was tear-streaked - she had heard crying then. Lily caught a glimpse of angry burn on his left forearm, but as he saw her glance at, the boy hid his arms behind his back.

Snape instantly regretted approaching her. He should have run, should have stayed in the tunnel. He looked quickly up at her. She was much better-dressed than he was, in clean, new jeans and a warm-looking, fleece sweatshirt. He bit his lip to keep his teeth from chattering. Her face was fine-featured and her eyes were a brilliant green, such a beautiful green that Snape caught his breath. But her face was slightly red and blotched - it looked like she had been crying too.

She looked at him with her brilliant green eyes and Snape looked quickly down, feeling suddenly ungainly and ugly. He stared at the ground. He was stupid, so stupid for approaching her. Of course she wouldn't want to be friends with him. And why did he care so much anyway? What would his mother say if she were to see him talking to a... to a mudblood... Snape was angry at himself now, and his pale cheeks colored slightly.

"Hello." Lily spoke in a soft, silvery voice, slightly thick from her earlier crying. Snape looked up.

"You're that boy from the other day, aren't you? The one who was hiding behind the bush?"

He paused, turning redder, then gave a slight nod. She cocked her head inquisitively.

"I'm Lily," she announced.

"I'm Severus..." he said, sounding slightly apprehensive.

"What happened to your arm?"

Snape flushed angrily, his face scarlet, and looked down.

"None of your... "

He stopped, looking at Lily's own left arm. An angry bruise marred her ivory skin, the dark shape of a hand wrapped around her thin wrist. Lily saw him looking and blushed - what would her father say if he knew someone saw the bruise her gave her, if perhaps someone suspected that the Evans's was not such a happy household after all...

Snape looked back at her face, then down at the ground. He brought his arm out from behind his back, glaring at the red burn.

"My mother gave it to me," he muttered. "What happened to yours, then?" he asked, rather defensively.

Lily paused. She knew what would happen if her parents found out she ever told anyone. If there was one thing her parents agreed on, it was that no one, no one, must ever find out what her father was like behind closed doors. She looked into the thin face of the boy standing in front of her. A strange recklessness took hold of her.

"My dad did it to me," she said defiantly. "He grabbed me and pushed me against the wall."

"Why?" Snape asked, not knowing what else to say.

"He was angry, I don't know why. He's always angry... "

Her face darkened slightly, and Snape let out a hollow laugh.

"Sounds like my dad," he said.

She looked at him, and suddenly she smiled, a real smile that made her eyes sparkle in the dim light. In spite of himself, Snape smiled too, and for a brief moment his features lit up and he lost some of his unhealthy pallor.

Lily sat down on the ground under the streetlight and, after pausing cautiously for a moment, Snape sat down across from her. Lily began to draw absently in the dirt with her uninjured hand. Snape picked up a handful of fallen leaves and methodically started shredding them into pieces. It seemed neither of them could think of anything to say. Beyond their little island of light, the darkness stretched out all around them.

Lily stopped drawing in the dirt and cupped her hands, looking thoughtful. Snape watched intently out of the corner of his eye without looking up as Lily opened her hands again. A tiny pink moth flew out of them and Lily laughed. Snape smiled slightly. He cupped his own hands and opened them, releasing a green moth. Lily's eyes widened. She cupped and opened her hands again, this time releasing a yellow moth. She giggled as Snape released another moth, this one silver. Their pain and unhappiness momentarily forgotten, the two children laughed and laughed as the air around them filled with tiny moths, fluttering in all the colors of the rainbow.

"Is this what it means? Being a witch I mean? Doing stuff like this?" Lily said, looking up at the moths darting all around their heads. Snape stiffened, remembering her previous anger when he had called her a witch. But then he saw that Lily was smiling and he gave her a shaky grin.

"Yeah," said Snape, relaxing visibly, laughing as the moths swirled around them. "But there's loads more. If you've got magic, you can do lots of stuff. You can - "

Snape stopped short. A car abruptly pulled to a halt beside the playground. The laughter vanished from Snape and Lily's faces as a tall man got out. He had Lily's dark red hair, but he lacked her beautiful green eyes. Lily's father, Snape guessed.

"Lily!"

The color drained from Lily's face and she jumped to her feet. Snape stayed kneeling on the ground, watching the fear wash over Lily.

"Lily, there you are!" the man shouted, stepping towards Lily and grabbing her wrist. He jerked her forward and she stumbled, her red hair swinging behind her. "What the hell do you think you're... Oww!"

The man released Lily like he'd been burned. Lily looked around at Snape, still sitting on the ground. His black eyes looked hard into her green ones, and a flash of understanding passed between them.

Lily's father did not seem to have noticed the boy sitting a few feet away. He glared at Lily suspiciously, sucking his fingers, then grabbed her roughly by her shoulders and shoved her towards the car. Lily twisted her head around and gave Snape a sad little half smile. He was still sitting there watching her, mouth slightly open, surrounded by colored moths.

"Good night, Severus..." she said as her father slammed the car door.

The car turned with a screech and pulled away. Snape stared after the car as its lights faded into the darkness.

The last of the colored moths fluttered off into the darkness leaving Snape quite alone in the circle of yellow light. He smiled slightly, thinking of the way Lily's eyes had sparkled, her face all aglow, the moths flying all around her. Then his smile faded, the happiness all going out of him, leaving him feeling more lonely than he ever had before.