Severus Snape hated his name. It reminded him of something that followed the dark through the rafters at night, slithering along so he couldn't sleep. He hated things that crawled, cowardly and snaking and quivering, oh how he hated the quivering, all those legs drifting about like they were shuddering on the lip of a fan, which they might as well have been in the attic, which was a center off all unpleasant northern drafts no matter what he stuffed in the window sills. And the attic, one should never get him started on the attic, with it's dirty plywood floors that creaked and groaned every time he so much as sneezed, and heard every movement of the family downstairs, which Severus knew from experience were not a pleasant people. In fact, Severus mused as he fell back onto the feeble pillow of his feeble bed, he could fill several pages with list's of the things he hated about spinners end, perhaps they would qualify for a school assignment? He doubted it, and even if listing his passionate hatreds was worthy of some kind of credit at that awful place if his father saw said assignment at the parents night, which he was bound to do, the school was the only thing to do with Severus he ever seemed tempted to involve himself in, Severus was sure to get a slap across his face, and he'd rather not explain the bruises to Lily.
Not that he'd ever properly met Lily, a small logical voice in his head piped in, though it would still be preferable to avoid the slap.
"Voices in my head," Severus muttered, all the pondering giving him a headache, "Well I was already going mad, I might as well do the thing right." He turned over on his side so he could glance at the small coffee table he'd snuck out of the cellar, no one seemed to miss the roasted pecans it had housed, where he kept the tiny polaroid of her. Lily Evans. Her dark red hair blowing behind the rusty swingset were Severus had played when he was little, grinning at her sister who had walked stubbornly out of the photo. Not that he minded, without horse-faced Petunia he could almost imagine that smile was meant for him.
Severus rolled back onto his stomach so his eyes were forced to settle on his moldy headboard, he knew it was odd, even creepy to care so much about someone he'd never so much as spoken to, someone, that logical voice chimed in again, who probably didn't even know Severus existed.
"Oh shut up Severus," he muttered, more thoughts of his insanity drifting across his subconscious. The familiar words made his fist's clench on reflex, and he had to press them against the mattress to get them straightened again. He would talk to Lily, he had to talk to Lily before the letters came, or she would be just like everyone else, glancing over him quickly and then dismissing him like last months roast. At the thought of his insignificance his fist's closed again, he would really need to speak to someone about that, he would make a note if there were any paper in the attic, or would he need that for list's? Oh life's decisions, Severus thought dryly, how trifling they must be for people not trapped in dusty attics.
Severus rolled over again, seeing as it was really the only action available to him in the current situation, this time settling on a promising view of the rafters. Maybe he would spot a bat? Severus was rather fond of bats, he had an overlarge coat that made him look very much like one, and did a fair job of covering up his few shirts, which despite assurances that they were from the thrift shop around the corner, he was sure had at one point belong to his mother. Alas, nothing but more dust and a bit of greenish stuff he had ascertained was mildew, based on the recent development of a very unpleasant smell.
There was an awful amount of dust in the attic, Severus supposed that could go onto his list of things he hated about Spinners End right after crawling and quivering and attics. Or would it go under attics? Should he take the time to subcategorize? Despite disputing it's placement on what promised to be an interesting project, Severus really did hate dust. It was everywhere in the house, especially in the attic, and he was nearly sure (thought the test's were still being processed) that it had inhibited his growth somehow. Severus was very small, particularly for a ten year old having only broken four feet a month a ago, and notably next to his father who towered above everyone in the town at a striking six feet seven inches. No matter how he would prefer to believe his wild dust theories it was more likely, Severus had to admit, that in height he took after his mother as he did in most things. Which wasn't particularly good, as she wasn't much to look at.
Severus had startling black hair, which might have been good if it didn't insist on dropping unpleasantly around his facing in great oily strings which, no matter what he did to them, were never pleasant. His face wasn't chiefly handsome either, and any good qualities it might have had were ruined by his great fish hook of a nose, which triumphantly drew all attention directed at him. And if it wasn't enough that he was skinny and pale and sickly looking he was forced to wear clumsily oversized hand-me-downs that made him look like something out of a vampire movie.
Maybe I am part vampire, Severus thought, then at least I have an excuse for being an specky prick. Still, he might have salvaged some speck of popularity if he were actually good at anything, but he was completely useless at art, he nearly killed people when he played football, and he was only average at his school work. Nothing, not anything. Well that voice in his head butted in rather unceremoniously, and without introduction (Severus would have to work on his manners) he did have one thing. But he couldn't tell anyone about that, or forget his father he'd have an entire government after him, and he doubted he'd get out with so little as a slap.
Severus Snape was magic. Well half magic, his mother was a prince, a pureblooded witch ripe from the wizarding world, the world Severus really belonged in. A world where everyone would be like Severus, different and odd and he would finally have friends and a life and a home. You have Lily he thought, a tiny smile jerking at his lips as he thought again of her cherry colored hair and stunning green eyes. Lily was magic too. She didn't know it, but Severus did. He could just tell, she would understand him, listen to him, if you could only get up the nerve to talk to her. And his knowledge wasn't all based on blind trust, Severus wasn't stupid enough for that, he'd seen her fly off the swing set when her nitwit muggle sister pushed her too hard, seen her drift slowly to the ground without even a scratch. If that wasn't magic Severus didn't know what was.
Severus couldn't actually control his magic yet, all he could manage were a few accidental spurts whenever he was angry enough, but he knew, in less than four months he'd be going to Hogwarts, the magical boarding school where his mother had learned to control her gift, and Lily would be coming with him he was sure. He could see it already, they'd both be sorted into Slytherin, by that time they'd have actually spoken, so they would already be friends. And that was why Severus had to talk to her before the acceptance letters came, because he was sure Lily Evan's name had been down for Hogwarts since she was born, just as his own had and he was determined that they would be friends.
Oh Lily Evan's. The things Severus Snape liked let alone loved about spinners end could have been counted on his fingers and were certainly not worth wasting the paper for a list, they could never have been turned into school. But even without a pen he could hear them echo through his head; her hair, her eyes, her laugh, her smile, and magic. The only reasons he stayed, the only reasons he hadn't run away the moment he turned eight and realized he could, the only reason he thought with a bitter smile, he was locked in a dusty attic on a Sunday afternoon thinking about list's and school and Lily Evans.
Suddenly there was a loud crash from downstairs, followed by an angry scream. The kitchen, Severus deduced, from the noise of the crash and the scraping of china on a linoleum floor.
"YOU SCREWIN' WITH ME!"
The voice was loud and booming and made the dust on the floor drift up to Severus' nose, which twitched in aggravation. Not again, he thought his eyes rolling as the bed tottered with the impact of another of what Severus guessed were his mothers best China heirlooms, the only thing left of what she'd brought when she came to Spinners End. Severus sighed, he wasn't particularly attached to the tea set, he never got to use in anyway but he could have done without the noise.
They fought often, most of the time Severus wasn't sure why, but after nearly six years of schooling Severus knew it wasn't normal, he may not have many friends but he knew enough about his classmates to realize he was the only one who's parents tossed there valuables at each other every other day. It did come with a few upsides, Severus knew some very creative curse words, though he could have done with what he was sure was permanent damage to his hearing from all the shouting.
"THAT BOY'S DAMN INHERITED ALL YOUR WEIRD STUFF-AND I AIN'T GONNA HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH IT,"
"IT ISN'T SEVERUS' FAULT PAUL! IF YOU WOULD JUST SPEND SOME BLOODY TIME WITH YOUR OWN SON!"
Severus rolled onto his side, keeping his eyes trained on Lily Evans, laughing on her swing set, and his ear firmly planted in his pillow.
"I'm not listening," he murmured to himself, feeling very childish when a tear traced down his cheek. The bed shook as a teapot shattered. "I'm not listening." Lily grinned at him as she flew up into the air, and Severus tried to smile through the small onslaught of tears trickling down his face.
"We'll be gone soon," he muttered to the picture, dismissing the echoes of that little logical voice challenging his sanity as he talked to an image. "We'll be miles away."
It's a oneshot for now, but I'm willing to write more if people are interested.