A/N: I should probably update my other fics before starting new ones, but the muse hit me (I blame RP, as usual). This is the reason I shouldn't be allowed to RP Snape, ever. Anyway, I'm a bit rusty, so I hope you like this, and concrit is always appreciated.
And, if you didn't notice from the summary; major abuse triggers ahead, as you might expect from a fic about teen!Snape.
"What the fuck is this?" It was a roar, from the next room. "What the FUCK is this?"
Severus tightened his jaw, a faint, bitter smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, and turned the page. The bruises from the day before were still vivid on his sallow skin, mottling his neck and swelling up one eye, but he hardly felt them any more. He focused his attention on his book again, not resenting the break in his concentration, and returned to the beginning of the page describing the effect of a Praemium Curse in gruesome detail. Behind him, there was a loud thud on the door, and it shook on its hinges.
"Open this fucking door, you little bastard, or I swear to God I'll break it down!"
"You can try," Severus replied, loud enough to be heard over the thundering blows, but kept his voice level, eyes on the pages. "There's a bed behind it, though, which I happen to know you're not strong enough to shift on your own." Another page, and he rubbed idly at the raised welt on his cheek as he examined the illustrations. "But by all means, Tobias, go on trying. It isn't as though you have a job to go to, is it?"
"You... little... shit!" Tobias sounded livid – angrier than Severus had ever heard him, which was enough to make him shudder. Merlin, when he finally did leave this room, he wasn't going to be able to walk for a week. But he managed to keep the fear out of his voice for the most part; if there was one thing Severus Snape was good at, it was riling people up.
"Good to know that your command of the English language continues to improve," he called back, tucking one leg under himself and frowning at the page. "I'm stunned by your masterful vocabulary and subtle delivery. And I won't be the one paying for the door if you break it, just remember that."
One more heavy, crashing thud against the door, which made the bed Severus was sitting on shake, and then silence. Severus smiled grimly. True, he could only stay in here so long – if for no other reason than the lack of food or water in his bedroom – but while he was in here, he could savour victory, however slight. He didn't quite dare use real curses against Tobias – he was rather afraid that he might get carried away with those, and land himself in Azkaban on murder charges – but he was sure those boils would improve Tobias' face for a lot of people.
"Turning into a coward," he muttered to himself, his lip curling, and put the book to one side, head in his hands. Was this what it was going to be like all the time? Hexing Tobias in his sleep, or slipping potions in his beer, and then sitting on his laurels because he'd managed to make the bastard squirm? More to the point, leaving his wand behind when Tobias was out for payback, because Tobias would break it and he couldn't afford a new one? He was seventeen now, free of the Trace, free to stand up for himself properly for once, and what was he doing? Giving Tobias boils. Making him sick. Making him angry.
And yet... he couldn't do anything else. What else was he going to do, after all? Where else was he going to go? Yes, he was seventeen, yes, he was an adult, but without money, that meant nothing in terms of standing on your own two feet. No, he was stuck here, and sooner or later, he was going to have to face the music.
Well, if nothing else, he'd make it later rather than sooner. At some point, Tobias would have to fall asleep. Severus could leave his room then, head downstairs to eat and drink and do what needed doing, and then he could be back in his room with the bed moved in front of the door before Tobias woke up in the morning. With that in mind... It was still light outside, probably no later than four o'clock, but Severus put his book away and climbed into bed anyway, tucking his pillow over his head so he wouldn't have to listen to anything going on outside the room. He refused to listen to Tobias take his frustrations out on Eileen instead. He refused to hold himself responsible. Eventually, against the sounds muffled but not blocked out by the pillow, with his bruises aching and his mind numb, Severus drifted into sleep.
When he woke up, it was dark, and the orange light of the streetlamps outside was spearing in through the little window, casting strange shadows around his spartan surroundings. He stumbled to his feet, groggy and aching, and checked the time; one in the morning. Good. Perfect. As stealthily as he could, he levitated the heavy iron-framed bed away from the door, unlocked it, and slipped out onto the unlit landing, murmuring "Lumos."
He was at the top of the stairs when he heard a creak; a foot on floorboards; movement. Slowly, his heart leaping into his mouth, he began to turn his head...
...And, with a sharp click, the light turned on. Severus took a step back, unconsciously, away from the top of the stairs. Tobias tossed his beer can to one side, his boil-covered face twisting with anger, and hissed through gritted teeth, "I've had enough, you filthy... little... brat."
It was all well and good coming up with sarcastic comments when there was a solid barricade between you and your attacker. Hell, even when it was something at Hogwarts, where they couldn't really hurt you, it wasn't hard. But now Severus' mouth had gone dry, and his legs didn't want to move. All he could think was that this was it, he'd finally crossed the line; Tobias might actually lose it enough to kill him. There was a glint in the man's eyes that said he wouldn't consider it much of a loss, either. Despite himself, Severus let out a tiny whimper, almost inaudible. Time seemed to have slowed to nothing, and all he could think was that it wasn't fair, it wasn't fair to come so close to dying at Hogwarts, only to be killed by some... some Muggle.
And then the first blow caught him square in the face, and he felt his lip split against his teeth, and his wand skittered out of his hand, hitting the wall. There wasn't any time to think now; there never was when it was actually happening. Just instinctive dodging, and blocking, and trying to fend off the piledriver blows that just kept coming. He tasted blood, felt a sharp pain in his arm as he crashed back against the banister. Dimly, he was aware that the other bedroom door was open now, and Eileen was watching, like she always watched, like she'd always watched, doe-eyed and docile, that stupid, weak cow. Anger swelled in his chest, and with a sudden surge of will, he rolled out of the way, snatching up his wand.
"STUPEFY!" he roared, and staggered to his feet as Tobias was knocked away. "STUPEFY! STUPEFY! AVADA KED-"
"Sevvie, no!" For once, Eileen seemed to find her voice, lunging forwards and grabbing for Severus' wand. He let her take it, cutting off his incantation halfway.
The landing was in disarray, one of the banisters bloody where he'd landed against it. Eileen was standing, bruised and bloody herself, holding his wand slackly at arm's length as though a Killing Curse might still erupt from it. Tobias' unconscious form slumped against the wall at the top of the stairs. For a stretched-out moment, gasping for breath and with blood trickling down his face, Severus just stared. Then, his lip curling back, his teeth gritted, he took a step forward and kicked Tobias as hard as he could. He watched, unflinching, unblinking, as his father rolled and slid and finally came to a stop with a satisfyingly solid crunch.
Severus' head spun, and the world came crashing back in. He swore softly, grabbing his wand back out of his mother's hand, and stumbled down the stairs after Tobias, wiping his sleeve over his eyes as he went. Very little would have made him happier than for Tobias to be dead, but if he was the one who'd killed him...
Thankfully, he was spared imagining the consequences of that by the sound of harsh, rattling breath as he reached Tobias. He was hurt – good – and solidly unconscious – good – but he was alive. Severus let out a long breath he'd hardly known he was holding, and pushed his wand back into his pocket, looking up the stairs at Eileen a moment before he turned and headed back up them.
"He fell," he told her, sharply, limping back into his own room, and dragged his battered trunk out of the corner. "If anyone asks, that's what you tell them; he fell."
"What are you doing?" she asked, querulously, as he hauled open his wardrobe doors and started packing. Then, when he didn't answer, "...Sevvie?"
"Don't," he snarled, wheeling around with his wand raised, "call me that. Ever. Understood, you pathetic excuse for a witch?"
She shrank back slightly, and he relaxed, turning back to his packing. "I'm leaving. I won't be around when that Muggle bastard wakes up. I like my skin in one piece." His lip curled. "If you had any brains, Mother, you'd do the same. Then again, if you had any brains, you'd have left here a long time ago." Slamming his trunk shut, he picked it up and pushed past her, leaving her apparently frozen. It wasn't until he'd stepped over Tobias and had his hand on the knob of the front door that she seemed to realise he was serious.
"You can't go!" she cried after him, moving to follow. "Sev- Severus! School doesn't start for two weeks! Where are you going to go?"
He looked back over his shoulder at her, oddly lit by the bulb on the landing, and his voice was very soft. "I don't know where I'll go," he said, and opened the door. "I don't know where I'll go. But it can't be worse than here."
The door slammed behind him, and he left his life behind.
