He watched her as she giggled, her red hair shining in the sunlight. She knelt down in the green grass (as green as her eyes, he thought) and called to her sister.
"Tuney, watch!"
The older child, sallow and plain next to the radiance of the younger, knelt beside her. He watched with barely disguised greed as the little girl cupped her hands and closed her eyes. A moment later, a tiny green bud formed in her tiny hand. Delicate white petals sweetly unfurled, basking in the sunlight. A lily.
The older girl shrieked, scrambling back.
"How did you do that?"
The younger girl grinned, her emerald eyes sparkling.
"It's easy! You try. You close your eyes and think really, really hard."
Her sister leaned forward, eyes closed. She cupped her hands, brow furrowed. Minutes passed.
"I can't do it!" she wailed. The younger girl patted her arm.
"It's okay, Tuney. Maybe not everyone can do it." In her hand, the lily bloomed. A shadow crossed the older girl's sour face.
"Or maybe…"she snarled, slapping her sister's hand away, "Maybe you're just a FREAK!" The younger girl stared up at her, lower lip trembling. She stood up, and the lily fluttered to the ground.
"I am not! You take that back!" she cried. Her sister sneered.
"F-R-E-A-K. You're nothing but a silly little baby FREAK!" she taunted. She stepped forward, crushing the flower. "Nobody's ever going to like a freak like you!" She violently shoved the younger girl down, and then walked away, laughing. Trembling, the little girl sat up, staring at her bleeding knee. Then her eyes fell upon the lily, mangled and bruised. Tears glistened on her cheeks. She reached out for it as a shadow fell over her.
"You are not a freak," a low voice said. Startled, the girl looked up. A boy, about her age, stood over her. He was skinny and pale. Black hair flopped into black eyes. His shirt was dirty and stained, torn at the hems. She sniffled, her emerald eyes shining with her tears.
"Who-who you?" she asked, wiping a hand across her face. The boy acted as though he didn't hear her.
"Your sister is the freak," he said earnestly. A look of indignation crossed the girl's face.
"She is not! You don't even know her!"
"I don't have to," the boy replied. "She's a muggle."
The girl cocked her head. "A what?"
"And you're a witch."
The girl stood up, tiny fists clenched at her side. "That's not a very nice thing to say! You're a very mean boy!" Temper darkened her eyes.
The boy stared at her in fascination. "No, it's a good thing," he said. "It means you can do magic." The girl paused, considering this.
"Can you do it, too, then?"
The boy grinned. "Of course. I'm a wizard." He bent sown and picked up the broken flower. She stared in wonder as the flower slowly healed, a brilliant white blossom. He offered it to her.
She took it, bringing it to her nose to inhale. She giggled, The boy smiled.
"My name is Severus," he said.
She smiled at him over the delicate blossom in her hand. "I'm Lily."