Chapter One

AN: I do not own any rights to the Harry Potter books, yada yada legal stuff.

"Severus, bring me my wand."

"But...he'll see, and - "

Severus' mother smiled through her bruises. "He is sleeping off his bottle, dear. Just fetch me the wand."

Severus crept past his parents' bedroom, his hateful father's snores reaching the boy's ears and making him cringe in disgust.

Worthless Muggle.

He ascended the rickety stairs up to the attic. He inadvertently took in a breath full of dust and coughed. He pushed back the strands of his black hair that hung in his eyes. He yanked the chain connected to a solitary light bulb. He hated using electricity, but his father insisted upon it. He crept into a nook in one corner of the small, dark room and retrieved an oblong box swathed in velvet. This too was covered in a coat of dust. He delicately pulled back the latch and swung open the top to reveal a smooth ebony wand. His mother's wand.

He went back downstairs, taking great pains not to wake the slumbering man. His mother was sitting in a threadbare armchair next to a meager fire in the sitting room. Her own black hair was tousled and framed her oval face, which was shiny from tears and perspiration. A livid purple bruise was forming on her cheek. She was staring at a small vial of dark green liquid that she held between her thumb and forefinger. She looked up as Severus approached. "That's a good boy," she whispered. Her voice was empty and cold and it scared Severus slightly. When he was within arm's length of her, he handed her the wand. She took it from him, her fingers brushing his. They were rough and calloused from the work she was forced to do. Muggle work. The familiar feeling of acidic bile rose in his throat as he thought of it.

Eileen Snape uttered a charm while pointing the wand at her face, and the bruise faded away like a flower unblooming. "He won't ever remember giving it to me, so it won't be a problem," she said in reply to Severus' worried expression.

"What is that?" he asked, pointing a thin finger at the vial in his mother's hand.

"A mistake," she said as she smiled grimly. "A mistake that I am very tempted to use." She sighed, a small exhaling of breath that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. "A poison," he whispered. "You want to kill him."

She looked up at him, her sharp grey eyes meeting his inky black ones. "Believe you me, this wasn't impulsive. No...this took me two months to brew. I told him I was making him a Prosperity Potion. You know how he is, if it's something for him, he doesn't mind." She pocketed the liquid. "I'm still very proficient. He hasn't taken that away from me. And he won't ever take that away from you, either."

Severus felt tears sting his eyes and he brushed them harshley away with his sleeve. He was not weak. He was not his mother.