Thanks to all my readers!
While there is no evidence of Snape being physically abused, it is likely. In the first few chapters, I was planning on him being a complete bastard. Just for those who thought he was a git last chapter. Here we go!
Snape looked at the three people sitting on the couch in front of him. There was a fat man the size of a walrus with a mustache that rivaled even Hitler's, a fat blond boy the size of a young killer whale, and a much- too- skinny long necked woman.
"What are you going to do to us?" Asked the fat boy.
"Well, tell first what the Potter brat did to deserve what you did to him." Let them think he was on their side. See, Snape hated child abuse. He utterly despised it. He did not, however, think that corporal punishment was unnecessary in some cases.
The walrus- man smiled broadly. "He had the nerve to burn the bacon! He made our Dudley the wrong eggs, and ruined his birthday breakfast! It was just his punishment," The fat man said. So the killer whale was called Dudley.
"That's it? Why did you punish him so harshly? It was only bacon and eggs, it's not like your blob of a son needs any more fattening up."
"He's not fat!" Came the shrill voice of the horse- faced woman. "He's a growing boy, and he had big bones! And who are you to question Vernon like that?"
"Yeah, lay off my wife! Are you a freak like him?" Freak. That word pounded in his ears and made his blood boil. Of course... It was
"Petunia Evans. Don't you remember your dear sister's childhood friend? Come, Tuney, you remember the big bad Death Eater that Lily must have raved on and on about."
She paled. "Severus Snape."
"You know this freak, Pet?" Asked the walrus, Vernon he thought he heard.
"Vernon... He knew Lily."
"But back to the matter at hand," Snape snapped. "I hate Potter. I really do. And I pity that you have to spend every waking moment with the brat. But that there, that was child abuse."
"You'd know all about that, Snape," Petunia smirked.
"Freak, if you hate him half as much as we do, you'll walk away and not return. Why would you care about him, anyway? No one does. No one wants a freak like him." Vernon sneered.
So he wasn't waited on hand and foot by his relatives. Goddammit, they didn't even like him!
"If I find out you moved a muscle..." His voice trailed off. He had to go check on Potter.
...
Damn, it hurts. Vernon must have been really pissed this time. Well, God knows this wasn't the worst I've ever gotten. Not even close. I can handle this.
I had a dream that Snape was here. Fuck, if he was, my life is so screwed- he'd go telling all him little Slytherin friends all about poor baby Potter being abused by his muggle relatives. Then, he'd put the memory into pensieves, and sell them off for assholes like Malfoy to enjoy. I wouldn't put that by the git. There's footsteps up the stairs. It's probably Dudley with his best friend, Piers Polkiss, coming to beat the remaining shit out of me. Life is really a bitch, ain't it.
The door's opening. Goodbye world, Harry Potter, defeated of Voldemort, is about to die! I wonder if Albus fucking Dumbledore gives a damn about his golden boy any more. I was used- really used. I was just the pawn on his chessboard. That really sucked when he just dumped me back at this shit heap, like "CONGRATULATIONS POTTER YOU KILLED VOLDEMORT! NOW GO BE YOUR RELATIVES WHORE AND HOUSE ELF FOR THE REST OF YOUR GODDAMN LIFE!" Yeah, Albus was even more bastardly than Snape. And that's low.
Alright, looking up to see whoever the hell's come to torment me today. Oh god. It wasn't a dream.
Well, fuck.
He murmered something I couldn't make out. Probably a photographing charm of some sort. Wouldn't this make the Daily Prophet: Boy- Who- Lived Abused By Muggles! Damn, Rita Skeeter would love that headline. She and Snape would be perfect for each other. My last conscious thought was 'Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.' Or rather, 'Speak of the Greasy Git, and he shall appear.'
Then everything went dark.
...
BACK AT HOGWARTS
"ALLLLBUUUUSSSSSSSSS!"
"Dammit Snape's back," I whisper
"Albus, did you know?" He demanded.
"Severus, it was for the best. You hate the boy! Surely, you understand?" I half plead, half reason.
"But you don't hate the boy Albus. He's your perfect Golden Boy, your favorite and your hero! He's the whole fucking wizzarding world's hero! What has he been reduced to?"
"Alright, Severus, take him to Poppy if you must. She's most likely still here over break."
He gave me the famous Snape glare. "We'll talk later, you bastard. Yes, I hate the boy. But this? And you knew?" His voice was dangerously calm, like the ocean water right before a huge storm.
"Severus, I-" I tried.
"I can't believe I once looked up to you as a father," he spat out before stalking out of my office. Even Fawkes was glaring at me. Couldn't they just see that the boy was of no use to us now?
"Harry," I whisper, "What have you been reduced to?"
...
How far should the Dursley's abuse go? REVIEW!