Chapter one.

It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, he thought to himself as he stared at his arm. He had known they weren't the 'good guys' in this impending war that was descending upon the Wizarding World, but that had mattered little given the fact that they were the only ones who ever treated him like a fellow human being. They cared about his opinion of things, seemed to find him interesting, and actively sought him out for discussions. But, after tonight, after seeing the monstrous light in their eyes at the prospect of torturing someone- Muggle or no- he decided that perhaps that wasn't a good thing. And what did that say about him, about his character, if these were the only ones accepting of him? If everyone else insisted upon grouping him with them?

Looking down at the grotesque image on his forearm, that writhing thing that seemed to be an outward tell of this black imperfection he felt marring his soul, he knew exactly what it said of his character. How apt that it should be called the 'Dark Mark'. It had been the worst pain he had ever felt, both physical and mental- the so called Dark Lord forcing his way into Severus' mind with a sharp, unyielding pain that lingered even now. What had he done?

Maybe the self proclaimed 'Marauders' had a point, if this is what he had let Lucius lead him into. That wasn't fair, to blame his fellow Slytherins and now fellow Death Eaters- though he shivered at the term. They may have led him to the Dark Lord, but he had let them.

What would Lily say? He flinched at the thought. She hadn't said anything to him since fifth year when he called her that stupid word. She'd looked at him- glanced from her new found place at Potter's side, each time with a betrayed heartbroken look that made him hate himself all over again. Then, Potter stood up in front of the entire school at their last Leaving Feast and asked her to marry him. He was sure he'd never hated anyone so much as he hated Potter in that moment. Then Lily, his sweet Lily, said yes. And he hated her too.

He rubbed the heels of his hands hard into his eyes, trying to grind away the image of the poor Muggle girl being raped and tortured by those he might have once called friends. That was before their Master announced what was to be their entertainment for the night. He had still felt sick from being Marked, and every one else had this evil gleam lighting a fire in their eyes. No amount of pressure on his eyes burned away what he'd seen. No volume of music or television drowned out the screams he still heard ringing in his ears. Nothing could take away from this immense loathing he felt at himself. At Lucius and the Slytherins. At Dumbledore and the Marauders. At the world.

Severus shot out of his chair and bolted from the house, not sure where he was going until he got there. This had been their place, equal distance between both of their houses. She hadn't come, that he could tell, since fifth year. But he had come every day that summer. He had stood in the pouring rain and the killing damned heat. But she never came. So why was he here now?

Around the tree, their tree that they'd climb together, he heard a noise and almost called her name- but he knew she'd leave and he was desperate to get even a glance at her. It didn't matter, it wasn't her anyway. It was her sister; her long dark hair and long horse-like neck hard to mistake for anyone else.

"What are you doing here?" He demanded harshly. Didn't she understand this was their place?

The girl jumped, whirling around automatically on the defensive. "I can be anywhere I want, Snape!"

He almost made a comment, bring up her desperate attempts to follow them to Hogwarts. He wanted- needed- to see the pain in her eyes that he felt in his heart. But when she turned around, he already saw the pain there, hidden not too well behind the red from recent tears- and he stopped. She held her left arm tightly and he vaguely thought about his own. Maybe she'd broken it.

But he saw the familiar purple stain of a bruise that seemed to be climbing her skin, and he pulled her arm to look at it. It was in the shape of a beefy hand, too big to be anyone's he knew. Except that whale of a person Lily said her sister had been courting. Victor?

"Did Victor do this?" He asked, somewhere in his mind replacing her with the abuse his mother had been forced to suffer.

Something flickered in her eyes and he had his answer, but she jerked her arm back. "Vernon loves me, freak. He'd never do anything to hurt me."

"Really?" He sneered. "Because your arm tells an entirely different story. A man should never raise his hand to woman."

Petunia glared. "Accidents happen. And don't give me that high and mighty speech. We all heard about what you said to Lily!"

Like a switch, he didn't care anymore and she was back to being Lily's insufferable sister. "Fine," he snarled. "It means nothing to me if he kills you! But, remember, it was only an 'accident'."

He stormed off towards his house, and her to hers, and he'd forgotten what he came to forget.

A/N: So, here is a story I've been working on for MONTHS! Well, off and on. The chapters will start short, but will get bigger. I had originally intended to make it a large one shot, but I don't have that kind of patience. Like I always say; patience is a virtue, it's just not one of mine. It's a strange pairing, and not one I generally ship, but I decided one day that I wanted to read more that had Petunia, but found like zero results. So I decided to write one myself and try my hand at it. This first chapter I wrote in a car on a 3,000+ mile road trip with a friend of mine. It just sort of popped into my head. So I'm going with it.

Okay. Done rambling. Sorry. I do that a lot... and I'm still typing. Sorry! -Mia