AN: So… First ever published fanfic and I have to say… its sucks, I know. I'm really sorry about this to whoever is reading it. I do hope to do better in the future as well as have a better word count. I know that not a lot of authors do this, but I wanted to dedicate a song to the chapter. The Shadow by Shawn James. Anyway, on to the first chapter!

"Get the fuck out outa' here before I rip you a new one, ya ungrateful brat!" screamed a very drunk Tobias Allan Snape, a familiar crash sounding throughout the dark cottage, green glass shattering from where the empty bottle had been thrown over Severus's head.
In no time at all, Severus had run from the small house and down the cobblestone path, towards the park where he intended to sit underneath the great willow tree that resided on the farthest end.
Severus Tobias Snape hated his name. He hated the fact that it linked him to that no good drunkard that was his father. Could he even call him a father? The man was a menace who did nothing but terrorize his wife and child, simply for being born with magic.
Sickening really, the way he acted. Even as a nine-year-old, Severus could tell that he would always resent his father and that his father would never love him like a father should love his son.
You see, where his father was large and broad-shouldered, Severus was lithe, and lanky, with quick feet and wiry frame. His father's hair was a dark thinning brown, cropped short on his scalp, while his own was an inky black and he preferred to keep it long, tied back with a small leather cord from his mother. Sadly, he shared the same dark eyes and thin lips with the accursed man.
From his mother, he gained not only magic but long thin fingers that were made for potions and finally, a proud Roman nose that made him look not unlike a bird upon his pale skin.
That's what the kids around Spinners End called him: Crow Face. He hated it here, hated the fact that he was forced to dress in rags and dirt compared to the rest of his 'peers', that they were to be called in polite company. Everyone except that one strange redhead, who waved to him from the other end of the park that separated their neighborhoods.
They never spoke to each other, preferring to send secret messages in the waves and smiles, her sister being none the wiser. He knew that he had no business with the young muggle girl, and that in just two short years he would be leaving for the famed school known as Hogwarts, the school that his mother had attended herself.
Even if she didn't like to talk about magic, Severus knew that his mother missed it dearly, and that simply making potions had been killing her, faster than any damage his father could inflict. Or so he thought. The only time she had ever talked back to his father was on his past birthday. The day that he turned nine. The day his birthday, became a different kind of anniversary.
Flashback.
The Princes, which is the family that Eileen Snape originally hailed from, has a tradition that on a child's ninth birthday they draw a small rune on the center of the forehead, marking the child as a servant to Magick itself.
They had just finished drawing the rune when Tobias came home from the bar, and he wasn't happy.
"The hell's goin' on in here! I told you that I don't want any of this magic shit in ma' house!" he bellowed, spittle flying every which way. Eileen scrambled to her feet, palms out in a placating manner, trying to keep the enraged man's attention on her and not her son
"I know honey, it's just that this is a tradition! There's no magic involved! Just a little bit of ink on Severus's head, nothing else! I swear!" she pleaded.
"Is that right? Well, how 'bout I give the little brat a mark me-self ey?" He thundered forward, and Severus could almost see the proverbial steam burst from his father's ears.
"What NO, Tobias please, stop, think about this! We just won't do it ok? Please, no, oh please!" Her cries did nothing as he pushed passed her towards the young boy that hid behind her.
The smile on his face was a dangerous one, full of rotten and yellowed teeth. It gave Severus a bad feeling and he couldn't stop himself from taking slow steps backwards, wood creaking as he did so.
The shadows around the man seemed to contort, making the whites of his eyes brighter and the glint of the knife that had been pulled from his back pocket even more sinister.
Severus's shoulders trembled in fright. He had never felt so afraid in his life.
A hand encircled itself around his throat, not squeezing, but iron clad, like a collar. He couldn't make a noise, to terrified to do anything but wrap his smaller fingers around the much larger wrist that help him captive.
The knife moved closer.
Eileen tried to pull Tobias's arm away, her pleads and cries falling onto deaf ears before he simply batted her away. She toppled over the tea table that had been placed nearby, her head making a sickening thwack against the ancient wooden flooring. She didn't try to get up, a trail of blood snaking out from underneath, wetting the mint green dress she wore. The blood mixed with the precious ink that had fallen from her grip. She didn't move.
"MUM!"
Severus couldn't contain the shout that blurted from his lips, breaths coming out in pants
"MUM please, no, Mu-!" he called her once more before a smack cut him off. A palm against his stinging cheek.
Tobias's hand reached out and gripped Severus's hair, making him cry out in pain, the dull ache of having ones hair pulled a familiar feeling. With his head yanked back, a single tear slipped down his cheek. It dripped off his chin and onto the rusted knife.
"This what you wanted brat? A little mark ta prove that you're special?" spittle landed on his face, the putrid stench of the ale on the lips before him reeked, making his head spin.
The knife was brushing his cheek now, trailing up the path in which the tear had made. He no longer felt it.
He couldn't breathe, terror gripping his chest in a vice. His vision was becoming spotted as he hyperventilated, trying so hard to get air into his lungs.
A cold laugh brought him back to the world.
"Pathetic."
Severus was dropped, left kneeling beside his cooling mother, her blood soaking into his tattered trousers.
He could do nothing but stare and scream.
End flashback.
That was the day his mother died. There was no investigation, the police cared not for the death of what the town considered the wife of a drunk. Severus was the only one who cried for her, who would miss her.

Finally, he made it to the park, his willow a welcome spot even in the February air. But it wasn't empty. Sitting, with his back to the base of the tree, was a man, lithe like him, with hair even longer, pulled back with an emerald green ribbon. The man was dressed in a woolen coat, with one arm casually draped over a jean clad knee, sneakers peeking out from underneath the trousers.

The man looked up, a long dark scar marring the right side of his otherwise unblemished, albeit pale, face. The most striking feature, however, where the eyes.

They literally seemed to glow, a bright emerald green and the very same color as the ribbon that held back the long tresses.

Pale pink lips, lifted into a kind smile, eyes crinkling at the edges.

"Hello Severus. We have much to discuss."