The pain was terribly, horribly, poisonously unbearable. Liquid fire seeped through his veins, setting his nerves aflame. His heartbeat fluttered, trembled, burning in his chest. Shallow breaths came out in short pants. Weakly, he wrapped his long, pale, slender fingers around the tiny vial secreted in his heavy robes. The vial contained an end to the pain, a cure to the poison tainting his very soul. But before he could pull it out, before he could uncork it and swallow the wonderful, cooling, healing relief within, he hesitated. If he drank the antidote, then what? Then what would he do? For he was tired, so very tired. He was bone-weary, soul-crushingly tired. The pain licked at the edges of his consciousness, whispering promises of sweet oblivion and endless sleep. His fingers clenched around the vial, and then they slackened.
Suddenly a shadow leaned over him, hushed murmurs piercing the veil of fogginess and delirium. He blinked, trying to bring the shadow into focus. A dark silhouette, a quiet voice filled with urgency. A shaft of pale moonlight cut across the silhouette's face, causing jewel-bright green eyes to glint.
The fog lifted a bit more. Emerald eyes watching him with concern. Emerald eyes. The eyes blinked, filled with solemnity and fear. For half a moment, he was terrified that they would turn away, or worse, fill with hate. He summoned the tattered remnants of his strength, taking a raspy, liquid-filled breath.
"Look…at…me…"
The green gaze returned to his, and he felt the darkness beckoning him. Emerald eyes met black ones, and in that one infinitesimal second an entire lifetime flashed, full of sorrow and joy and regrets. Full of fear, and loathing, and cynical bitterness. Full of love. Just one second, one tiny drop of time, and in it was contained an eternity.
"Higher! Tuney, higher!"
The high-pitched squeals filled the otherwise quiet park, the joyous giggling echoing in the still late-summer air.
"Higher!"
From his position crouched behind the scraggly bush, the young boy watched the two little girls play on the rusty swings. The older one, a pale child with a little pointed chin and brown curls, was pushing the younger one. The boy's dark gaze watched in abject fascination as the little girl swung higher and higher until it seemed she might sprout wings and fly. The late afternoon sunlight lit up her red hair, making it like a dying ember. Her green eyes were wide and delighted, her little pink lips turned up in a sweet smile.
The boy crouched behind the bush for what seemed like hours, his legs aching. He watched the redhaired girl greedily, drinking in her tiny elfin features and sweet laugh. Finally, the children grew bored of the swings and sought other amusement. The older one spotted a scraggly dandelion among the overgrown brown grass and picked it, offering it to her younger sister. The little girl laughed in delight, peering at the flower. Cupping it in her hands, she raised it close to her face, peering in the darkened folds of her palm.
"Tuney!" she whispered, so quietly the boy strained to hear. "Look!"
The older girl looked over her sister's shoulder. The little girl slowly unfurled her hands, and the older sister let out a gasp of shock. Cradled in the tiny palms was no longer the sad dandelion but instead a vibrant, blooming lily. The young boy's eyes widened, excitement fluttering in his thin chest.
"How…"the older girl stammered, stumbling backwards. "How did you do that?!"
The little girl shrugged, her long silky lashes casting shadows on her pale cheeks. "I just thought really hard about it, and it happened. It's for you." She offered the beautiful bloom to her sister, who gently stroked it with a finger, fascinated before turning and searching the dry grass for another dandelion. Finding one, she plucked it up, cradling it in her own hands. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes tight, bringing her clenched fists up to her face. Peeking through her lashes, she opened her palm.
The dandelion lay broken and limp.
"Tuney…"the younger said tentatively, stepping forward.
The older girl's face fell as tears filled her brown eyes.
"Tuney…it's okay. Try it again. It'll work."
The older girl blinked vigorously, rubbing a fist harshly across her leaking eyes, and an entirely different expression filled her young face, making it appear pinched and drawn. The younger child didn't appear to notice. "Tuney, try again."
"No." There was trembling steel in the older girl's tone. "No, I won't. It won't work for me. I'm not a freak."
The redhaired child looked up at her sister, emerald eyes swimming with unshed tears. "I'm not a freak either!"
The older girl sneered. "Yes, you are. Freak! Freak!"
"Stop it!" the younger one cried. "Stop it!"
"I don't want to be seen with a freak. I'm going home."
"Tuney!" the child wailed as he sister walked away. "Tuney!"
She sank to her knees in the brittle grass, tears trailing down her smooth cheeks. She clenched her fists and then opened them, and the now crumpled and ruined flower fell from her hands, fluttering down to the dirt.
The boy swallowed, shifting uneasily as he watched the girl cry. He wasn't sure what to do. He had seen his mother cry, of course, when his father would yell and hit her face. There wasn't anything he could ever do to quiet his mother's harsh cries, not without his father noticing him too. But maybe, just maybe, there was something he could do about this girl's quiet tears. He hesitated, and then he stood up, knees aching from crouching for so long. He silently approached the sobbing child. Reaching her, he hesitated once more before dropping to his knees. His thin, dirty hand picked up the forgotten flower.
"You aren't a freak."
She turned to him, her glistening emerald eyes shining. She sniffled. "What?"
He held up the mangled flower and glanced quickly at her. "Watch."
He cupped his hands together, and when he opened them, the lily was perfect again, possibly even more vibrant than before. The girl's mouth fell open in amazement.
"You can do it too!"
He grinned at her wonder. "Yeah. It's because I'm a wizard and you're a witch."
She furrowed her brow. "A witch?" she repeated skeptically, sounding mildly insulted.
He nodded eagerly, lank hair flopping into his thin face. "And when we are eleven, we will go to Hogwarts."
She giggled and cocked her head, a curl of fiery hair slipping over her tiny shoulder. "Hogwarts? That's a funny name!"
"It's a school," the boy explained. "It's where we will go to learn magic."
"Magic?" she breathed. "Like with my flower?"
He nodded, pleased that she understood.
She appeared deep in thought. "Can Tuney come, too?"
The boy snorted derisively. "Of course not. She's just a muggle."
The girl's emerald eyes flashed dangerously. "What did you call her?"
"A muggle. It means she can't do magic. She's ordinary."
"Tuney is not ordinary!" the girl said hotly, standing up and fisting her hands on her hips.
The boy quickly stood up too, hands up in a pacifying manner. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. But only people who can do magic can go to Hogwarts."
"I'll teach her," the girl said confidently. "Then she can come with us, right?"
The boy rolled his dark eyes. "Sure."
Satisfied, the girl smiled at him. His heart skipped a beat, and he swallowed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. His too-long hair again fell into his face, and he was suddenly keenly aware of his tattered, dirty, too-big clothes.
"My name's Lily," the girl said, offering him a small white hand.
"Severus," he said, gently engulfing her tiny hand in his larger grubby one.
"Severus," she said, rolling his name around on her tongue. "Well, what else do you know about magic?"
The two children spent the rest of the afternoon lying in the grass, watching the clouds as Severus explained the wizarding world to Lily. And as the sun sank lower in the sky, neither child noticed the young, hurt brown eyes of the older girl with the pinched face watching them, soaking in the boy's words like a sponge. And when the sun finally disappeared over the horizon, Lily bid Severus goodbye, surprising him with a quick hug.
"I'll be back tomorrow," she promised.
Still stunned by her touch, for nobody ever touched him unless it was to cause pain, Severus could only nod mutely. He sat in the park for hours after Lily had gone home, a feeling of contentment humming in his veins. He had a friend. His friend Lily. And she was magic, just like him. And she was so small, so innocent and so caring. Severus frowned up at the night sky. She could get hurt by caring so much. A sense of resolution filled him. He would protect her. He would make sure she never, ever got hurt. And with that vow made, Severus smiled faintly at the pale moon. Lily, his friend. He had a friend.
He thought maybe, just maybe, that night was the best night of his life.
