Genres: Romance, friendship, heartbreak, angst

WARNING: Rated 'T' for angst, mild language and romantic/sexual intercourses/thoughts/actions

Disclaimer: If you think I'm J.K.-bleeding-Rowling, then god help you. -You need it.

/italics mean dreams and sometimes thoughts. /Bold means letters or notes that the character is reading or, if preceded by an impending 'AN' it means 'Author's notes'

Chapter one:

Nobody Cares About a Nobody

A small boy sat, his thin arms wrapped around himself, staring at the other kids play. His sharp black eyes never missed a thing, and his intelligent gaze took in every detail. He wanted to know what to do, should another little boy or girl –at this point, he did not care which- come up to him and ask him to play. He had never been asked before, and he feared, that should he be, he wouldn't know how.

Having grown up with no siblings, in a home where nothing but silence was tolerated, he had never truly played before. Never been allowed to.

Little Severus Snape stared longingly at the other children, feeling his heart pleading with him to make the first move, but he was far too shy for that. Should another child come up to him and start speaking in any manner, friendly or otherwise, he had not no idea how to respond, so he would just pale a few shades more and stare at the ground, his little hands stuffed in his pockets. If ever a person saw him, they would believe at first glance that the child had come from a hard life, and their assumptions were to be held accurate. His father, a muggle, was a bastard for lack of more colorful descriptions, and had no job, nor desire to properly raise his young son. Severus' mother, a witch, had had her resolve beaten out of her by her husband years before, and only supplied young Severus with enough to keep him alive.

Severus had not the pleasure of toys. Nor enough food to keep him healthy. Nor friends to keep him happy.

Severus felt something in his eye. He immediately brushed it away. No one could ever see him cry. He made a vow to himself right then and there, that should he ever break, he would never again do music.

Now Severus loved music. It was the only thing he was ever allowed to do louder than a gentle whisper. He was allowed to strum the guitar as loud as he liked, and ram the keys on the piano as hard as he wished, so long as the music he produced was pleasing to the ears. And so he took lessons every week for free from the muggle school he went to, determined to do better than any other five-year old. It was one of the only things he was good at.

He had started on magic a year ago, and was progressing rapidly. He enjoyed it, but oh, how he loved his music! He could escape into it, into a whole different world, where everyone knew his name, where everyone cared. Now Severus had rather bad parents, and they loved their peace and quiet. They had no clue that a child loved to run and yell and make all kinds of nonsense noises. They, after all, had been quiet children growing up. A rare, more than once labeled as 'odd' breed to find two who had the exact same beliefs. Silence. Utter and sweet. Not a peep, not a sound, nothing. Unless it was music.

Severus sighed, hearing the teacher calling for all the children to come in. He shuffled his battered little boots in the soft dirt, then turned and followed them inside.

POV: Severus Snape

-six years later-

I sat, staring at the teacher as he continued to drone on about some sort of medical science or other. I was being forced to go to muggle school still, as my father detested me being a wizard he wanted all things muggle to be drilled into me.

I blinked, shifted in my seat, bored. Today was my birthday, I had just turned ten. I shifted again, wanting to be anywhere but here. It was, after all, my birthday.

I jumped up as soon as the bell sounded, stuffing all my books into my bag at record pace and slinging it over my shoulder. The teacher was desperately shouting some sort of last minute homework assignment at us, trying to drill it into our skulls before we escaped him for the day, but I managed to not hear it.

I jogged excitedly down the hall, ignoring everyone I passed by, and they returned the favor. Let's just say I was less than least popular in school. After the school bullies had realized I was too strong to pick on, (thanks to magic, but they didn't know that!) so they had begun spreading random –and totally untrue- rumors about me until they had gotten me shunned by the whole school. Even some of the teachers –who claimed to be intelligent people- fell for some of them.

Like the one where I was a devil worshiper. Or the one where I was gay… which to an extent was true, but deep down inside, isn't everyone? Or the one where I played around with dark magic.

I didn't care, no part of my life at muggle school mattered to me. I jammed my books into my locker, grunting angrily at it when it wouldn't shut properly. I finally smashed it shut, ignoring the suspicious crunch sound I heard, and running off to catch the bus. Why was I so excited? Well, it was my birthday! And that day could be described with one word – Lily.

Lily Evans was my best friend. I had met her in the first grade, she had been the only child to not care that I was mute. I forgot to tell you, I am mute. I mean, after all, my folks rarely spoke, and never encouraged use of vocal chords, instead discouraged it. I don't believe I had ever spoken more than ten words in my entire life, and due to lack of use, my vocal chords lost the ability to work. I'm sure if I tried –really, really hard- I could make a sound, but I never tried, so I didn't know.

Anyway, she and I had hit it off, both being of magical talent, and, more importantly, we both loved music. She sang like a little angel, and played one heck of a guitar.

I smiled at the thought of the week she and I would spend together. She had moved to Blackpool a few years back with her muggle parents because they didn't want her wizard friend (me!) to have a bad influence on her, and the only time I ever got to see her was once a year at my birthday. So that was why I was so excited. After the bus dropped me off, I ran all the rest of the way home, not at all daunted by how tiny and broken down my house was –I had long since been used to that.

I ran up the few rotting steps to the porch and into the house, closing the door gently –though it took much of my patience- then tip-toed through the tiny sitting room, briefly glancing at the bookshelves that occupied that dark room that disturbingly resembled a dark cell. I hurried through then peeked into the kitchen to see mother cooking something on the stove that smelled too fancy for my poor family. Mother was probably just trying to make me happy. I wrinkled my nose, then turned and left, going through the hidden door to the narrow staircase, taking the stairs two at a time, but careful to not to misstep and trip on the uneven wood, the last thing I wanted to do was get my parents mad.

I glanced into my father's tiny study to see him poring over muggle medical journals. I wrinkled my nose again, wondering how he could sit and read about peoples insides. He had given me a set of medical journals once a few birthdays back. I read a couple pages of one of them, and nearly vomited at the descriptive words and disturbing illustrations. They sat, untouched, in my small library ever since.

I dropped my bag onto the floor, carefully closing my bedroom door, taking my shoes off before continuing on over to my small, dirty old bed. Lily and I were never able to talk over the phone, since I was mute. I wasn't sure we even had a phone, after all, it wasn't like my parents could afford it, or even to stand for the sound of its stark ringing echoing through the halls of our home.

I plopped down on my bed and waited, ignoring the uncomfortable old springs in the mattress as they poked into my back. I glanced at my old watch, praying it still worked as a ritual I did every time I glanced at it. I let out a momentary breath of relief when I saw it was still faithfully ticking, despite its age. I then let my arm hit the old, uncomfortable bed. It was three-forty. She wouldn't be here until four. I blinked, staring at the ceiling, bored once again. I glanced at my watch several times, angrily noting that the second hand had been the only hand to move.

Finally growing tired of waiting, I stood up and walked into the tiny bathroom down the hall. I stared at myself in the filthy, broken mirror. I needed to clean up and look my best for Lily! I had never used to care about my appearance in front of her before, but now that I only saw her one week out of every year, I wanted to assure her that I was neatly dressing myself and keeping up a good look. I didn't want her to think I was going hobo on her.

Not that she'd care, after all, I had been like that when we'd first met. Even so, I took my comb and began attacking my hopeless black tresses, getting them to neaten up a bit for her benefit. I washed my face, scrubbing it until the dull gray accumulated from a dreary day of school was gone, to be replaced by my usual dull white. I wasn't much of an outdoorsman, pale was my normal color.

I stared at myself, daring my reflection to do something I hadn't done. But faithful as always, it mimicked my every move. I shook my head, making a face at myself. He returned the gesture, making me smile and laugh silently. When I laughed it was weird. My face would light up, and my pale cheeks would gain a little rosy gleam, and my mouth would open to let out silent laughter, though a peep wouldn't be uttered. I had tried many times to make a sound as I laughed while my mother practiced on the old piano downstairs, while nothing but the sweet instrument could be heard, but not a sound would come from my mouth. I hated it, I wanted to hear laughter, it was a sound I enjoyed almost as much as music.

I shook my head sadly, then glanced at my watch again. My heart leapt. It was four-o'clock! I smiled gleefully, rushing out of the bathroom. I rushed back in, fixing my hair, making sure nothing was in my teeth, and straightening my collar, before hurrying back out. I ran to clasp my hands on the unstable banister, staring down at what might be deemed the living room below.

I stared down at the old, beat-up, out of tune piano occupying the center of the small room, a few old, thread-bare chairs surrounding it. I waited patiently for the sound of the doorbell, the only sound other than instruments allowed in the house, but only because it was melodious. I smiled as I heard it.

I tapped my foot lightly, watching mother's wiry form trot through the living quarters to answer the door. I heard her murmur quietly to the visitor, inviting them to come and take a seat while she informed 'the master'. I hurried to 'my' study, right across from my fathers, and grabbed a book, pretending to be deeply engrossed in it. The room was merely a small closet, but I used it to store my favorite books and anything else I managed to cram into the small room.

The gentlest tap could be heard, a sound easily pinpointed in the silent room. The door opened hesitantly a few moments after, mother's lovely face peeked in. "A miss Evans to see you, master Severus." She murmured lightly, smiling at me, her sad eyes twinkling lightly. I smiled at the gentle woman, she always called me master Severus on my birthday. I closed my book and stood rather clumsily, excitement making me shaky. I fixed my shirt, then followed her out. She led me down the narrow stairs.

I walked grandly into the tiny living room to see the back of a young girl's head. I smiled at her familiar red hair. I entered the small, poorly-lit room and stood before her, unable to contain my grin as I bowed politely. She smiled broadly, laughing. I loved the sweet sound! "Hey Severus." She respected the need for quiet, still remembering how strict my parents were about such things.

I smiled, opening my arms. She stood, taking me into hers. I wrapped my arms around her slight figure, smiling into her soft red hair. I pulled back, holding her shoulders and looking her over. I gave her a lop-sided grin that said, 'it's great to see you'

She smiled, clasping her hands in front of her. I smiled, bending down to snatch up her valise, ever the gentleman host. She smiled again. I gestured for her to go ahead of me, since she knew the way very well. She walked quietly up the narrow stairs, her hand gliding along the rough railing as she went. I followed behind her, her bag firmly gripped in my hand.

She went straight to my room. I smiled, setting her bag down on the floor. She grinned, twirling around slowly. I knew that, no matter how many times she stayed in this room, she would always appreciate its... friendliness. It was far more appealing than the rest of the dreary house, as I kept the window constantly open, the need for air in the suffocating house driving me to spend many a night sitting in front of it, staring wistfully out at the old mill that was visible nearby, the stank air of the dirty old town fresh in comparison to the stifling air in the house.

She laughed again, plopping down on my inexpertly made bed, pulling her hands behind her head and smiling up at the ceiling. "You know, your house is like a vacation resort." She told me. I laughed silently, wondering how she could ever come up with that misplaced assessment. She smiled at my unusually flushed cheeks. "You look great, Severus!" She told me, making sure to maintain a level of quiet. I blushed again, wanting to tell her how amazing she looked, but she didn't expect that of me, no one did. She just continued talking, as it always was. She loved to talk anyway, she would ramble on, telling me about things we were both interested in, engulfing me in amazing stories that I loved to hear. She had new stories to tell me every year, and I loved it.

I desperately wished the beautiful red-haired girl could be with me more often, it would make my life a whole lot more enjoyable, but I knew that couldn't happen. I sighed inwardly, sitting down next to her on the tiny bed. She smiled brilliantly up at me, her cheeks more tanned than my own. I smiled back at her, and she continued smiling, looking back up at the ceiling. She sighed, sitting up.

"You want to play a game or something?" She asked. I tapped my nose, smiling. She grinned. "Awesome, what do you want to play?" I thought for a moment. Of course, I wanted to play charades. I gave her my knowing smile. She smiled, leaning in. "Charades?" She guessed. I tapped my nose again, grinning more broadly.

I jumped up, standing in front of her. I held up two fingers.

"Two words." She guessed.

I held up one finger.

"First word." She nodded.

I tapped my finger on my wrist.

"First syllable." She laughed.

I smiled, starting to wave her to me in a beckoning motion.

"Follow! Um, wave… fan? You're hot and you need a fan!"

I rolled my eyes, making a face at her.

She laughed, rolling back on my bed in delight. She composed herself and sat back up. I continued the motion. "Come…come!"

I smiled, tapping my nose. She laughed again.

I held up two fingers, then tapped them to my wrist.

"Second syllable."

I nodded, then thought for a moment. Then swung my arm in a throwing motion.

"Come…throw? Come…throw… come toss? Come…" She scrunched up her nose, watching me. I laughed silently, my cheeks turning a light pink again.

She smiled at my gleeful blush. "Come…" She kept thinking and I kept throwing my arm. "Pass… come pass, compass!" She pointed to me wildly, her face all smiles. I held up my hand and she high-fived it. I laughed silently again, wiping my eyes, smiling. I plopped down beside her, laying back and putting my arms behind my head.

She took advantage of my vulnerable position and immediately began tickling me. I swung my arms down, trying to get her to stop as I began silently laughing again. It was a strange sight, watching the one who was doing the tickling laugh harder than the one being tickled. In fact, the whole time she tormented me with tickling pokes, not a peep escaped my mouth, though it was wide open, and gleeful tears streamed down my red face.

She finally relented, and I lay there, trying to catch my breath as I continued to laugh mutely. She smiled at me, still giggling, her face flushed a lovely shade of pink. I pounced on her as soon as I got my breath back, tickling her a little, but not as much as she'd done to me. After I was done, I just lay there on top of her, a bright grin on my pink face, staring triumphantly down at her as she caught her breath.

She smiled brilliantly up at me, her pink face sunshine and roses. I smiled down at her, feeling love bubbled within me. Then I let it simmer down and my smile was replaced with a blank stare that made her smile fade. Was it wrong that I was in love with my best friend?

AN: Some of you, after reading my first story have been asking for a Severus/Lily story, I hope this pleases you! Next chapter will be a while, I'm afraid.