Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Harry Potter franchise. I am making no money from this venture; it's just fun as hell.

TW: DESCRIPTIONS OF CHILD ABUSE.

Chapter One: Worthless

It was early in the day when Lily slipped out of the house with a piece of cheese slapped into two pieces of bread hidden in her hands. It wasn't so much that her mother didn't feed her as she would always make some nasty remark about wasting food or Lily getting fat if she continued eating as she did, even though she was already small for her age. She said the same thing to Petunia, too, but where Petunia listened (and Lily was quite sure she had an 'eating disorder'-something she'd seen in her health textbook at school) Lily did not. Where Petunia would willingly deprive herself of breakfast and sometimes even lunch, Lily would manage to sneak a little something for herself to snack on before her father got home from work late in the evening.

Richard Evans worked long days at the mill and then nights bagging groceries at the little market in town. The girls' mother, Allison Evans, hadn't worked a day since before Petunia was born, and that had worked out well enough until the drinking started, which was around the same time strange things started happening around Lily. The doctors called it depression and prescribed her medication, but it never worked because Lily would never be normal. Lily's father was the kindest to her of the family, but even he was afraid. He was never around, anyway, and when he finally returned home exhausted, the idea of complaining to him about the things Allison and Petunia had said or done felt selfish. Lily learned quickly that she'd have to deal with her mother and sister and their horrid comments all on her own, and the best way she found was leaving.

They never once questioned it, even if she stayed out from the early hours of the morning until the sun was beginning to set on the horizon. If she ever arrived back home before her father they would actually look at her with disgust, as if they couldn't believe she had the audacity to ruin their lives with her existence. It was all fine, though; she could ignore looks and pretend she didn't hear words.

The sun welcomed her like a warm hug, though she hadn't been hugged in a very long time and the reminder of that made her feel cold and empty inside in a place the sun could never touch. She waited until she was a few houses away to steal a glance back at the house; neither mother nor sister were in sight in any windows, and she quickly took a huge bite of her sandwich before deciding to pace herself with the rest. It wasn't much, but it was all she was going to get until her father came home and her mother had to feed her dinner, and she had to stretch it as far as she could. The rest of the day would certainly last long enough-as far as her stomach was concerned, anyway. As far as the day ending and Lily resolving that she finally had to return home was concerned, she could never return and easily be pleased. She had considered running away since she first started making strange things happen ('demonic things', her mother said, 'magic things', she thought) and her mother started drinking and calling her a 'worthless, devilish little bitch' or some creative variation. She never did try to, though. She knew she wouldn't be able to take care of herself and that there were people out there far scarier than her mother, but she wished to be gone of the place that was certain.

She wandered for ages, to the park for a while and then up and down the streets. Her sandwich was long gone by the time she returned to the park, to swing for a bit and then maybe wander closer to town (but not close enough that her father saw her and then questioned her mother later about why she was there all alone). The first and only time she'd done this, unthinkingly, didn't seem so bad at first. Her mother gave her a sharp look at the dinner table and that seemed to be the end of it. It wasn't until the next morning that Lily discovered what her true punishment was. As soon as her mother was awake, she was shaking Lily awake, too, tugging her out of bed and then pushing her onto her knees. She could barely register words or what was happening, but the pieces began to fall into place, slowly but surely. First, she realized why she was being dragged out of bed; then she realized where she was kneeling.

Her mother hadn't just planted her down on the floor; that would be far too simple. A familiar piece of wood, worn and starting to splinter in places, lay below her knees. 'And you'll stay there until I tell you to move. You had better not move until I say so or you'll be a very sad little girl.' It didn't seem so bad at first; kneeling on their old broomstick was uncomfortable, sure, but she was tough and she could handle it.

The pain began about a minute later. It crept down her shins and by ten minutes her legs from the knee down were on fire. By twenty her thighs were aflame too, and by the time she had knelt there for thirty minutes they were oscillating between pain and creeping, tingling numbness. She had managed to keep time by the activity around her; her mother making a pot of coffee, doing a few dishes from the night before, and then switching over to the harder stuff as she plopped down at the TV to watch her 'stories', but by then Lily couldn't keep track anymore. All she could do was focus on not moving. She considered sneaking, just for a second, a brief respite from the pain, but f her mother came to check on her or if her sister happened past she would be caught. It was a wicked game they played, although Lily was angrier with her mother for it than her sister. Her sister, in her own way, was just trying to survive too.

By the time Allison came back, Lily was shaking uncontrollably and unwanted tears were streaming down her face. She heard her mother say something along the lines of 'it's over' and 'move', but she had been kneeling there for so long that her legs did not want to work. After a brief pause, Allison grabbed her brusquely by the arm and pushed her away. Lily, for what it was worth, tried to keep her back straight and her head down as she stumbled towards the door on shaky legs. She was already angry with herself for allowing herself to cry; she wouldn't give her mother the satisfaction of seeing her struggle any more than what she couldn't cover up.

From that point on, she never allowed herself to sleep in any later than her mother and she never went near the places her father would be during the day again. Her mother called her stupid all the time, but stupid she was not.

There were other kids at the park when she returned this time, a group of about seven boys around her age. Although she didn't usually mind it when other kids were at the park in small numbers or with their parents, it was the larger groups that aways gave her trouble, making fun of her scuffed Mary Janes (Petunia's old ones-Lily hadn't gotten a new pair of shoes in years) or her paper thin, faded dress (also one of Petunia's old things), or the way her hair hung, limp and scraggly, around her pale and freckled face. There was literally nothing they wouldn't make fun of, and although the group seemed to be split into two, one of three and one of four, that didn't mean there wouldn't be trouble. She recognized some from school, and every single one of them had been rude to her at some point or another.

Still, she had plans for the day, a small bit of her life that she had control over, and she would not give that up for anyone or anything. She heard bits and pieces of their conversation as she approached the swingset.

"Come on, just one trick!"

"No."

"Please?"

"I don't even know what you're talking about."

She sat down on one of the swings and began to push herself with her feet, deciding to stay low to the ground in case-

"Hey!"

One of the boys was calling out to her. Great. Just great, Whatever they wanted their friend to do, it just couldn't be entertaining enough for me to be left alone. She tried to ignore him, but she knew this one; he had been the reason she did not move her swing too far into the air, for precisely three seconds later his hand was grabbing the chain, yanking her to a stop. And if he was willing to do that then she didn't want to see what would happen if he tried to stop her midswing while she was actually moving fast.

"Hey, Stupid, I"m talking to you." She could feel the warmth of his hand near hers where they both clutched onto the chain. She said nothing.

"Oh, come on, Todd, you know she's mute or something!" one of the other boys from school, Drew, said, like it was some great joke.
"Hey, fuck off you guys-okay?" It was a different voice that spoke now, one she didn't recognize. It must have belonged to one of the boys she didn't know from school. He, unlike Drew, actually sounded serious.

This seemed to incite the other boys, and Todd's hand slipped away from the chain as he no doubt approached the Serious One. Lily let out a little sigh of relief as the warmth from his hand left, and she brushed her hand off on her dress, hoping to scrub away the creeping sensation its presence there had left.

"It's just a bit of fun," she heard Todd say.

"Yeah!" Drew chimed in. "What's your problem? You know we don't have to hang out with you, right?"
"I don't want to hang out with you, anyway." Serious One sounded really serious, and the feeling that prodded Lily's stomach said maybe a little dangerous. Maybe not to her, though; he was sticking up for her, after all; but to them.

Maybe they felt it too, because Todd and Drew both made noises of disgust, but didn't say anything else to him.
"Come on, you guys. Let's get out of here. This place is for little kids, anyway." Lily bit her lip, but her eyes remained locked on one spot on the ground. She thought the Serious One would leave too, but she saw a pair of trainers appear in her field of vision. She noticed the looked newer than her shoes but not as new as the other boys' because it was easy to notice people's footwear when you spent most of your time looking at the ground. Lily counted the seconds in which they both did not move. 1...2...3...

"Sorry about them. They're idiots." He finally spoke! She didn't realize she had been anticipating hearing that voice again until she heard it, and she chided herself for being so foolish.

"If they're such idiots, then why are you hanging out with them?" she shot back venomously, though she still daren't look up from the ground and his shoes.

He sighed. That was the last thing she expected to hear, and she froze like a rabbit, now absolutely not sure what to expect next.
"My mother says if I'm going to be homeschooled I ought to still be social," he groused. Oh. She thought. So that's why I haven't seen him before.
"That's stupid."

"Yeah."

She finally looked up. She loved the sound of his voice-although she chalked that up to it just being an appreciation for him sticking up for her. Still, she had to see who the voice was connected to.

He was tall and skinny and wore a Man U shirt over his jeans.
"You like football?" she asked dumbly.

He shrugged. "Mum found it at the thrift store. I don't like sports."

"Hm."

She looked him over in silence; he had dark hair that was longer than a boy's usually would be, down a bit past his ears, and dark eyes to match, and pale skin like hers, though it wasn't covered in freckles. The only thing she saw about him besides his hair that he might get picked on for (a measurement of people she'd unconsciously learned to note after years spent being picked on) was his nose, which was long and hooked. She liked it, though; he was unique, and the thought of what he might have looked like when he had sounded serious and dangerous gave her a little rush of excitement. She didn't notice until he returned the gesture, but a smile had crept across her lips.

She was about to tell him that she should probably go when he spoke again, though it was only two words.

"I'm Severus."