Hey guys, um, this is my first story and I hope its good, I guess? I have no Beta, but I have been told I'm a good writer but I'm not too sure. I just want some people to criticize my work and give me good feed back. Criticize = Better Writing = Happy Me. So feel free to send in criticizing reviews, but no hate please?
Disclaim Her: Sadly, I don't own any characters in this story 'cause they belong to J.K Rowling, but I'm pretty sure I can bend them to my will. *smirks evilly*
~(-o_O_o-)~ means different POV. same time
- means same POV. different time
[Parsel Language] means anything in Parsel Language
Thanks, unto thee story;
The wind caressed his hair, as though it was afraid to touch him. It brushed his lips and cheeks and the young boy leaned into the delicate touch. It felt as if there was a body next to him, but the black-haired boy knew better, sort of. It didn't explain childish laughter or when he opened his eyes he saw a pair of emerald eyes with his black onyx coloured eyes reflected in them. It was as if there was someone else there, not just him standing there, by the green directly lake in the not cared for park next-door to his own rundown home but someone else, someone only he could see. But who was it?
His waist-length black hair felt like it was stroked gently with the breeze. It felt like magic. Is magic real? It could be, he guessed. If it was, it would explain the fact that every time his father tried to hurt him he always hurt himself, which was funny to experience, but he'd learned at a rather young age to mask his emotions. The only time he showed his emotions was when he was free with the wind and the mysterious green-eyed boy with he childish laughter. He lets bliss, freedom and wanting fill him up till he wants to run around, being childish and free of burdens layered upon him with the green-eyed boy.
He knew his mother was worried about him, when she wasn't suck alone unable to move with too many wounds to count, in her bedroom. It didn't even look like a bedroom. Furry wallpaper (that isn't meant to be furry), dangling off the walls, carpet worn through in 13 different places, ceiling damp and ready to sink in at any single moment. It's exactly the same through out the rest of the house.
~(-o_O_o-)~
What he didn't know is that whenever he was outside, and whenever his mother could get up, she would watch him through the hedge, he would be standing by the tall, droopy willow next to the green, algae infested lake, as he would lean in toward the wind, wait a small second, then let the slightest hint of a smile grace his pink, slightly chapped lips. She used to think it was the green-eyed girl with the fiery red hair that matched her temper, Lily Evans, or her sister, the one with the blond hair and blue eyes, Petunia, that made him smile, but they go to the better park down the road. After many weeks of watching her son, she finally noticed something. It was the wind. Every time he leaned toward the wind he would close his eyes for the briefest hint of a second he would then open his eyes, filled with bliss, love and understanding, like he could understand that someone couldn't be seen, and quickly all emotion would flicker out of his eyes, leaving an emotionless, hollow tunnel. What was he thinking of? Who couldn't be seen? Who does he love? It was almost like he was...kissing the wind? Can you do that? So many thoughts swirled around her head that she started getting dizzy. She tried to remember her Occlumency training that her father had given her. Think nothing. Clear the mind. Put everything into the mind rubbish bin, (when did she ever think this?). Calm flooded through her and instantly her mind was void of all the unanswered questions.
-Eileen Snape, nee Prince's skin-and-bone hands were kneading the bread dough for dinner that evening. She had little time to get this done for her husband before he came home from the mill. She thought of the time when her house-elves would do this for her at her old home, before she married who she has now, her husband. She would give her son half of her helping of food no matter what. He is slightly skinnier then normal for children his age, but Eileen herself couldn't starve, due to the fact that her husband would take it out on his son and the Most Ancient and Noble line of Prince would die out.
~(-o_O_o-)~
"Please," he whispered softly, "Please, tell me your name."
The wind swirled faster, faster around him till the green eyes were but a blur. It was going so fast he felt as if he was in a tornado Suddenly a soft gust of wind past his ear with a slight hiss to it. But he could distinctly make out the words:
"Harryyyy, Harryyyy..."
The wind, Harry dragged the next words out making them undefinable.
Suddenly a soft but loud yell rang from his home, named 'Spinners End'.
~(-o_O_o-)~
"Severus, time for dinner!" Eileen called out. She and Severus always got little food but she always sacrificed half of hers for Sev. Her husband, (his name was forbidden in the house), will be home soon and if she doesn't want a beating she better get the freshly-picked vegetables stewed. Severus has been growing a vegetable garden since he was about five years old. Plants like him. When, (not if), he finishes Hogwarts, maybe he should become Herbology professor.
She watched him trudge toward the house, kicking the small, grey stones everywhere, shuffling up the path slowly, almost deliberately, as if not wanting to loose his best friend. But, Eileen had never seen him with any of the other children. She went quickly into the dining room and laid out the bread, butter and cheese they were allowed to eat, put the most on Severus' plate and waited for him to walk in. He was a mystery. Her mystery.