~Chapter One~

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It was mid-morning, December 20th, 1970, and it was raining at Spinner's End. A young boy with greasy black hair, and a rather large nose could be seen looking out a broken window at the cobbled streets below. Looking at his house you could see that it was just as unkempt as the street it sat on. The shutters were falling off the hinges, the paint chipping from the walls, even the fence was rotting. Inside his room was just a tattered dresser, a moth eaten rug, and a single four post bed. It was on this bed that the boy sat waiting out the fight between his parents in the next room. This was how he spent most of his time, here at his window, or on the roof, anywhere out of the way of his father. Nothing was worse than crossing his father's path. The slam of a door, and loud a ruckus came from the hallway. The boy got up from his bed and crossed the room to close his door.

"Severus?" The boy was startled to here his name being called from out side the window. Moving back over to his bed, he leaned over the dingy sheets to look out the window. There standing just behind the bushes stood a girl with raven curls waving at him to come down. A sad excuse for a smile spread across his face then he climbed out of the window and descended to the wet grass below.

"You've been up there all winter Sevey. I was starting to wonder if you'd ever come out." She said with a smile, her dark eyes smiling too.
"Well I have to get some vitamin D sometime, don't I Nutmeg?"

"You're not much going to get it today. Or anytime soon, I'm afraid." Meg stretched out her arm catching the raindrops in her hand. She was right, the sun hadn't come out for weeks, and Severus would be surprised if it showed before June. Nevertheless it was always good to see her face and to hear her voice, one that never raised much above a whisper. "I can never get away from it! It's, you, you and that, that Boy!" The voice of his father, Tobias Snape, could be heard from the upstairs window.

"I thought they stopped fighting?" The last time he saw Meg he might have mentioned the arguments had dimmed down a bit. "Doesn't your father like it here?"
"He doesn't like anything, much. But I'll be gone soon." Severus looked up at the broken window to his room, took a quick glance at the sky, and back at Meg. "Let's go, shall we?"

Once they got to the playground a little past Spinner's End, it was an easy walk, no loose stones to trip over, just a smooth concrete road all the way to Meg's home. The rain had turned to snow and they were both shivering by the time they reached her front door. Like the street, Meg's house was nicely kept, the bushes were neatly trimmed, and there was no sign of chipping paint anywhere. The grass in the yard almost seemed as if it were green all year long.

"What have you been doing all winter anyhow?" She asked him, her fingers numbly fumbling with the key. He gave a rare, truly happy smile, and helped her open the door. "Do you remember the day we met?"

"How could I not, you and your stories." Nutmeg rolled her eyes at the thought of forgetting the happenings of that day. She remembered it as clearly as if it had happened last week. It had been the most horrible day, it was snowing nonstop, and she couldn't seem to get anything right, not to mention the strange things that had been going on were getting worse. Chocolate raisins in the window display of the candy shop disappearing and reappearing in her hand, Things floating about her room with no reason about it, even time seemed warped at moments. Stranger things had happened but never as often. She was on her way home from a friends house when she saw a boy just outside the chain link fence around the playground in her neighborhood, like she had seen him every day. He never went inside the gate though, it was as if he were just waiting there, watching the other children. It was that day, out of curiosity that she stopped to talk to him, and because of this, it was that day, she was told she was a witch.

"You're not going to tell me another story about magic are you Sevey?" How Nutmeg hated those stories, because that's just what they were, stories and nothing else. Yet Severus always told them with such passion and vigor that it was hard to doubt that he believed them. Tales of warlocks and centaurs simply couldn't be true. Severus just gave what seemed to be a crooked smile and followed her down the main hall.

She'll come to realize the truth sooner or later, she has to. And with that thought he left the subject alone. Meg's kitchen was warm and darkly lit, but just bright enough to be cheerful. In the air was the smell of chicken and spices. Two mugs, filled to the rim with hot cocoa and whipped cream, were on the bar waiting for them. A woman with curly strawberry blonde hair was standing at the stove.

"Severus is here, mum." Meg walked immediately to the counter to pick up the mug closest to them before going to the stove to see what her mother was cooking.

"Oh, hello Severus. Your welcome to some cocoa, I just made it before you got here." Nutmeg's mother turned around to greet her daughter's friend. She looked exactly like her daughter, except her hair. She had the same sweet smile, and the same dark eyes, she was beautiful.

"Thank you, Mrs. LeTore, but I really shouldn't spoil my dinner." Not that Severus was truly worried about being too full, he wasn't used to homemade cocoa, or any kind of homemade food. His mother, Eileen, was a witch and had always used magic to cook, if she ever did cook, which wasn't often at all. Truth be told, he preferred magic made food, it was never burned and it always tasted delicious. But he walked to the counter, picked up the mug and gladly took a few sips anyway.

"Well, we just won't tell you mother then." Mrs. LeTore gave a smile, the only difference between her smile and Meg's, is that she crinkled her nose. "Meg, can you watch the stove?"

"Sure, mum." Meg said leaning against the counter next to the stove. She took a sip of cocoa and watched her mother leave the kitchen to attend to some unfinished business. And then she turned to Severus, "You never told my why you've kept yourself lock up in your room since September." She looked at him curiously behind her mug which she always kept close to her mouth when drinking something warm.

"I thought you didn't want to hear any… 'stories'" Severus looked down to his cocoa with a fake crooked smile and started playing with the half melted whipped cream dripping over the edge.

"Well I didn't say exactly that…" Meg's response was muffled as she looked down at the floor. "I mean what could possibly make an 11 year old boy lock himself in his room for 4 months?" After a few seconds of silence and playing with her feet Nutmeg looked up across the kitchen at her friend. A sound, like a giggle, came from her before she said anything, "Well?"

Severus didn't say anything, there was nothing he could say, nothing she would believe. After all these years, after everything she's seen herself, and him, do, she still refused to believe magic wasn't just a fairy tale.

"I really must go, Meg."

And with that, he turned and left, Meg at his heels following him to the door.

"I'll see you tomorow then?" She waited for a reply, but he made none. There was no reason for one, he just simply left. She would find out on her own soon enough, no use in him, once again, trying to convience her of her blood, the happening that she had been born a witch, unlike her muggle parents.