"You're not normal."

The young boy turned round, looking out with suspicion from behind his long black hair. His hand, which had previously been raised, dropped to his side and a flutter of leaves fell with it. He thought he had been alone. Alone, in the beautiful forest. In his beautiful forest. He swore that the trees had never looked so majestically green before, so intensely alive with the flutterings of birds and the humming of crickets, the topmost branches bearing down upon him with pride. When he saw these miracles, these elegant crafts of nature, a feeling would swell within him, a feeling that he could do anything. And sometimes, just sometimes, when that feeling reached its utmost, when it filled him up inside so overwhelmingly, sometimes, he could make things happen. Today had been one of those days – he had run, and run in spite of the soggy turf, the mud slicing through his bare feet – into the forest, until he had run further than he ever had before, and had found himself lost. But, to him, this was the joy of life – for there could be no greater adventure than to be lost, than to be completely alone with his thoughts and his forest, the two things he loved most. And as he had wandered, allowing both his mind and feet to roam among the depths of the woods, he had fallen flat to the ground and stared up at the leafy canopy. Wouldn't it be wonderful if he could live here, if he could hide within those beautiful leaves, a cocoon of solitude and bliss? Wouldn't it be simply perfect? And with that, he found himself rising, that feeling which he had experienced only a few times before, surging inside him, his arms stretching out in front of him and a thrilling heat burning in his fingertips. "Come on," he muttered, "Come on. Come. On!" He stared at those beautiful leaves above him, his eyes fixed on them, his mind focused on nothing else, his hands trembling with energy. "Come on!" he grunted, a tiny smile forming on his face. The forest was silent. A breeze blew through the upper branches. "Come on!" he cried, his whole body shaking fiercely, his feet barely able to support his quivering torso. He screamed and fell back. He was not even dazed by the fall. He kicked the forest floor in frustration and let his head fall back to the ground, abruptly. "You're nothing special, Severus. You've always known that. You're nothing special." His eyes wandered again to the forest canopy. "Don't dream, Severus," he said, "You do little else." He shut his eyes. Only a second had passed, before he felt something soft and smooth fall onto his nose. He opened his eyes and picked up the green oval from his face. A leaf. He smiled and looked up again. Suddenly, there was a rumbling and he was already to his feet when the entire canopy of leaves tumbled down through the air, filling the sky and cascading down towards his head. He swiftly raised his hands, the leaves suspended in stasis above him and his rich laughter echoed throughout the woods. Slowly, and with thought, he began to mentally arrange the leaves in shape until eventually, they had all formed an arch around him. An arch of leaves, made from his beloved forest, fashioned by him. If there was such a thing as paradise, the boy was convinced, this was it. And it was then, in the midst of his joy, that a voice had rung through the silence.

"You're not normal."

The young boy turned round, looking out with suspicion from behind his long black hair. His hand, which had previously been raised, dropped to his side and a flutter of leaves fell with it.

"I know," he smiled, "I'm not normal. I'm something special."

The boy was now able to survey his new company more closely. It was, unsurprisingly, another boy, this one shorter than him, angry looking but he held himself with a commanding presence.

"You're a wizard, aren't you?" asked the stranger quietly.

The boy remained silent, his eyes as black as his ebony hair.

"Or don't you know what that is?" continued the strange boy. He took a step closer. "James," he announced himself and extended a hand to Severus. He did not take it.

"What do you want?" he scowled.

The boy who had introduced himself as James took a step to the side. "Nothing," he said, and it now occurred to Severus that the boy was distinctly Irish in his speech, "I would like to talk to you, if you're game."

Again, Severus scowled and took a step back. "Why would you want to talk to me?"

'James' smiled, mischievously, "Because, like you say, you're special. And I like talking to special people."

There was a silence. Severus eyed him suspiciously. James sighed, appearing less intimidating as he did so, and glanced behind him. "Quite a gift you've got there," he remarked, gesturing to the half suspended pile of leaves. Severus quickly realised that he had still been holding the leaves in stasis and swiftly let them fall.

"Oh no, now don't do that," James cooed, a hint of mockery in his tone, "it was so beautiful as well."

"Shut up," he snapped, "Just leave me alone. Or else."

James smirked for a moment, then tutted in mocking disapproval, "Now, now, making threats, are we?" he chirped, turning his back to Severus. "You're not the only one who can do things, you know," he added and suddenly, the leaves whirled into a flurry around Severus and drew themselves in a tight chord, wrapped around Severus' torso, his arms now bound against his body. After a moment of struggling, Severus relaxed. "Alright," he issued in disgust, "What is it that you want?"

"Like I said," James smiled victoriously, "I want to talk." There was a pause as Severus viewed him curiously. James continued, "You'll find that there are many of us magical folk (he said magical rather grandly, as if he didn't think much of the term) out here in the muggle world. Unfortunately, most of them aren't quite as…" he paused, staring at the ground regretfully, "…isolated as we seem to be. So you can understand my interest in," he chuckled to himself, "more exalted company." He looked up at Severus, a sincere, yet dark demeanour in his eyes, "Please believe me when I say it is an absolute honour." His green eyes twinkled.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Severus snarled, "But if you don't let me go…"

"Ooh," cooed James again, his manner even more degrading than before, "again with the threats? I've caught me a feisty little bird this time."

"This time?" Severus whimpered, beginning to panic as the leaves wound themselves a little tighter around him, now pressing on his neck.

"Well not everyone is as sociable as I am," James lamented, another wicked chuckle issuing from his mouth, "But once they're like this, they're often much more willing to talk." He walked up to the bound Severus, bringing his face in towards him, "Then again," he added softly but with a menacing tone to his voice, "I can be very persuasive."

Severus, unwillingly, began to shiver as he felt James' breath on his face. Suddenly, a loud cry of "Expelliarmus!" rang through the air and he saw James fly back and hit his head against a tree. Within a few seconds, a young feminine figure was rushing to the ground where James was lying and checking his pulse. "No," she nodded hastily, "He's just unconscious."

"A pity," remarked Severus, staring down at this bizarre sight.

The girl seemed to ignore this but rather focus her attention on the leaf bound captive before her. She confidently walked up to him, stopped before him, looked him up and down studiously, and then, with surety, commanded him to, "Hold on."

She muttered something completely incomprehensible to Severus and the leafy chords suddenly snapped free, whipping the air in front of them and releasing him. He stumbled backwards onto the ground. She giggled slightly, then extended an arm to help him up. He did not take it but rather rejected it with disdain.

"I suppose you and your friend thought that was funny," he snapped, climbing to his feet and shaking off his limbs. She frowned. "He's not my friend," she replied tartly, "And I wouldn't be so quick to insult if I were you."

"Why not?" he responded, hostilely.

"Didn't you see that?" she said, an air of surprise in her voice, "That was an exceptionally powerful spell for someone of my age and experience. The disarming spell, as a matter of fact."

Severus stared at her a moment, then chuckled, cynically, "The disarming spell? What is this rubbish?"

Before she could answer, he began to stride away through the glade again. She sighed, folded her arms and muttered some more words under her breath. To his astonishment, the leaves that had fallen to the forest floor rose again, this time forming a solid wall in front of him. He turned round, an openly confused expression on his face and the girl smiled triumphantly. A surge of anger rose in him at this blatant manipulation and he strode towards her furiously, grabbing either arm and holding her in place. "What do you want from me?" he demanded, staring down with uncontrollable rage into her eyes.

"Nothing," she replied quietly.

"That's what he said."

"I'm not him."

For a few moments, they seemed to stay there, his furious eyes boring down into hers, and he found himself losing himself in the deep blue of her irises. After a moment, he grunted, and loosened his grip of her. He turned away again but did not begin to walk away as he had done before. The wall of leaves still remained but a flick of his hand and they fell again. He sighed deeply and, his back still to the mysterious girl, asked, "How am I able to do these things?"

There was a surprised pause from behind him and an inquisitive, "You don't know?"

"No!" he snapped, in frustration. He felt the confusion swimming around inside him and his voice softened, "No."

There was silence for a few moments, then some footsteps, softly crushing the autumn leaves on the forest floor. He took it to mean she had walked away. But a moment later, and he felt a gentle, pleasantly warming, hand take his. "Sit down," said the girl, softly, "Let me tell you."

They sat down. The girl's skirt brushed against the leafy floor and this subtle hint of femininity somehow caused Severus to soften his tone and feel less hostile towards his present company. He had seen the way his father had treated his mother – and from experience, he had learned that what his father thought best, was, inevitably, worst for him. So, as his father treated no woman with the respect he accorded himself, Severus revered them and piously treated any woman he came across with as much courtesy as his own rustic manners could afford. Though this was, undoubtedly, the first female of his own age, he saw no reason to treat her differently.