"Shut it you damn bitch!" Roared a very angry man with a hooked nose and thick black hair.
A woman flinched backwards but with a powerful grip the man grabbed her forearm and yanked her so hard she fell backwards hitting her back on a very unstable looking coffee table. Sitting nervously against a very ugly wall was a boy no older than 12. He had stringy black hair and had near utter terror in his deep, black eyes. He was Severus Snape, son of Tobias and Eileen Price Snape.
"P-Please, Tobias! Not in front of Sev-"
"Shut the hell up, woman!" Tobias roared once more.
He was hunching slightly to Eileen, as if he had just shifted to that of a werewolf, at least mentally. The female, with long silky black hair and tunnel-like eyes like her only son, quickly darted her eyes to her boy who looked to be on the verge of tears (even if his father had told him he was beyond the days of crying). Severus looked to his mother as his father had his back turned to his son. Tobias was yelling at his mother, swearing vigorously, and threatening everything from throwing them both out to not letting either of them leave the house again. The child didn't really understand anything. And the few times he asked his mum about why Dad was mad she would just tell him to remember that his father loved him.
"Just let him go!" Eileen exclaimed as a few tears fell down her cheek and smudged some of her eye make-up."
His mothers piercing voice was a splash of ice water in a conversation overtaken by Tobias' growling and swears. Gruffly, the father craned his neck and ordered the boy upstairs. Now the dear boys first instinct was to ask why and stay with his mum, but every time Tobias would tell Severus to go to his room he went immediately, fumbling of course, for he could feel his cheek sting from when the young Snape did ask why when he was 8.
Once in his room, he quickly shut the door and went to his bed. His bed was old, dingy and none too comfortable. But it was a bed. The room was old, drab, almost sepia brown color on the walls and a rather discolored carpet on the floor. His small room was perhaps the one place young Severus was ever completely alone and safe. His mother was the one parent to ever come on and even that was rather rare. The young Severus went to sitting at the very back of his bed with his back against the backboard and knees to his chest, the little Snape. His bed wasn't very comfortable. It was old and the mattress was rather worn and lost a lot of its bounce. Severus looked to the wall next to him. Sometimes he could hear his parents' bed knocking against the wall, but he dare not ask what was happening and convinced himself any sounds from his mother were imaginary. Also in his bedroom was a small dresser (of old, mismatched clothes and some socks without a partner), his school books of his recently finished first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and his wand on the top of the small dresser. Severus often hid out in his room. When he got to Hogwarts, it was a new freedom. The Slytherin (his house) common room was so nice to be in. Even thought it was dark and had a cold feel, he loved it. He could explore the castle when he wasn't working hard on all his school work to his pleasure.
He could hear his father yelling and his mother begging and being louder now that her son was out of sight. As he usually did when things got back, Severus put his legs down and went to reach under his bed. He pulled out a thick book with the words 'An Introduction to the Dark Arts' written in bold lettering on a leather bound book. His father didn't like his mother and son to run about Diagon or Knockturn Alley; but ever so occasionally, Eileen managed to bring her son out. They didn't have much money, wizard or otherwise, so Severus could only buy things that he could use. He could use books. Always use books. Severus had a small collection of books under his bed other than his school mandated text books. Most of the books were about potions or dark arts. Whenever Severus had to go to his room (and even when he was just there) he would read. The boy had lost count of how many times he tried the simple spells and potions on the pages.
Severus used his loose sleeve to wipe at his eyes. His parents were still arguing. There was but a single window in his room which overlooked a very dingy landscape of old buildings and a much discolored river. At night, a dull light would filter in from the window, making the boy turn on his side toward the wall to get some shut eye.
Every time his father got like this he wanted to just go to Hogwarts. Even his mother didn't make it better anymore. She was becoming more distant. When Tobias was in the house, his mother barely would talk to him freely unless his father was yelling, in which case her maternal instincts apparently emerged. If Severus was lucky, he may get a hug every so often after the session of anger ended. If he was lucky. Which wasn't often.
He often wished he could live at Hogwarts forever. True, he got some strange stares and there were a few people who took an instant dislike to him; he didn't have a man screaming at his mother or himself. He had freedom to wander and eat and do magic. If only, the young boy thought as he laid down on his bed and tried to fall asleep, clutching his dark arts book in arms.