Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything pertaining to the Harry Potter universe. That honour goes to JK Rowling and her publishers.

Chapter 3

An Angry Afternoon

One warm summer afternoon, approximately ten years after Severus Snape had rescued his son from the destruction at Godric's Hollow, Salric Snape found himself wandering the empty castle grounds in search of something to do. It was a beautiful afternoon, the sun was shining blissfully in the pale, blue summer sky, the vast lake was glistening; a warm and inviting escape to the summer heat, on a perfect day such as this one any eleven year old boy would find himself countless distractions on which to amuse himself; but not Salric. On this day, Salric was angry. He didn't want to swim in the refreshing lake, fly on his training broom, or visit his friend Draco Malfoy for the third time in a week; he especially didn't want to help his father with his infernal potions, not when his father was the reason for his anger. Salric Snape wanted nothing more than to visit Diagon Alley.

He knew he was perhaps being unreasonable, his father had a very important job after all, and it wasn't anyone who could brew the necessary potions that the magical institute required. No he understood very well how important his father was, but what he didn't understand was why his father had to brew the potions now at this very moment in time, after all the end of term had only concluded a few short weeks ago, how many potions could a school void of students really need?

Salric sighed to himself and approached the shore of the immense lake. Despite his anger and frustration, he had to admit that the lake was beautiful. He loved exploring the land around the lake, finding little animals taking shelter from the sun's rays, collecting rocks from the edge of the water, lying on his back listening to the birds sing around him while watching the clouds breeze by. But alas, such pleasantries did not even cross his mind on this particular afternoon. Instead he picked up the largest rocks he could discover and threw them violently into the lake, splashing his clean clothes. He knew his father would be furious that he was dirtying his clothes, and despite himself, Salric smiled. Perhaps his father shouldn't have banished him from their quarters in the first place.

"Quit sulking," his father had reprimanded with a stern look on his face. "If you cannot find something to amuse yourself with here, perhaps it would be best if you spent the afternoon out on the grounds. At least that way I wouldn't have to look at your sullen face, and maybe I would be able to get some work done."

Salric threw a heavy stone in the lake with extra force as he recalled the memory. How dare his father have the audacity to banish him, when it was his own father's fault for making him sulk in the first place! If his father had only kept his promise, they would both be enjoying the day in the magical shopping area that was Diagon Alley. They went on the same day every year, but this year was to be even more special, this day he was to get his school supplies and more importantly, his wand.

A wand was a wizard's lifeline. It was how magical people gained access to their magical core, using it to channel their magic and release spells. Without his wand, a wizard was no more than a common Muggle. He knew some wizards and witches, like his father and the Headmaster, could perform certain spells without the need of a wand, but that skill was very rare and often not achieved until adulthood.

Salric had been looking forward to the day on which he would purchase his very own wand for as long as he could remember. Oftentimes he would use a stick and mimic the wand movements he had seen his father use or read about in his favourite books, and indeed he knew he had many spells memorized already, but until he could feel the magic course through his veins for himself it just wasn't good enough.

He had unleashed magic before of course as had all underage magical children, but he hardly included wild magic with trained magic. He had no control over wild magic, it just happened. No, he couldn't wait to perform his very first controlled spell.

He could still remember his very first experience with wild magic when he had been seven years old. It had been talked about in the school for quite some time afterwards, much to his father's dismay. He had been walking the corridors of Hogwarts Castle during the winter break. Oftentimes when classes were not in session, Salric would be allowed to explore the castle at his own leisure as long as he agreed to stay in the common areas. He rarely disobeyed that rule, for as much as he loved the magical castle, he knew there were parts of the castle that could harm him or even kill him. This time was no different. He was playing on the ground floor not far from the entrance to the dungeons, pretending to be a powerful and ancient mage who had taken over residence of a castle when he heard someone approach him. He turned around and saw an hourglass shaped boy, with dusty brown hair, and moss coloured eyes. He knew this boy was named Dustin Martin, and that he was one of his father's most despised students.

"Well if it isn't the git's greasy son," the older boy had said, a smirk appearing on his horse-like face. "Shouldn't you be at your lovely father's side watching him bully students?"

Salric knew his father didn't have the best reputation around the school. Some students thought his father was a Dark wizard who mastered all kinds of horrible jinxes and curses, some believed he used exceptionally untalented students as potions ingredients, some even came to the conclusion that his father was a vampire and that his meal-of-choice was students caught in the halls after curfew; all of the students, Salric included, agreed on one thing though, that his father really did not like children. His father had no patience when it came to his students, and would accept nothing but the best when it came to potions. He knew his father was a very strict teacher, but he had to be, Potions was a very dangerous subject, one mishap from a student could result in the death of everyone in the room.

"Your father took points from me today," the boy continued, slowly creeping towards Salric. His smirk had turned into a contorted frown hinted with traces of malice. Salric knew he had to escape; this boy wasn't here for a friendly chat.

"Do you know why he took points?" The older boy continued his approach towards Salric; every step seemed to make his face grow darker and darker. For the first time in Salric's life, he was truly afraid. This boy looked like he desperately wanted to hurt him. Salric looked around for somewhere to run, but the older boy seemed to have cornered him in an unused room. The room was completely empty; there wasn't even anything he could use as a weapon to defend himself.

"I'll tell you why he took points from me," the boy was towering over Salric now, and Salric noticed he was taking out his wand. "Other than the fact that I happen to be in Gryffindor – and we both know how much your father hates Gryffindors – your father took points from me because I was talking to my friend. He ignored the two Slytherin girls who were giggling in the corner, they certainly didn't get any points taken, and all because they're Slytherins."

Salric watched in horror as the angry boy in front of him pulled out his wand and pointed it in his face. Salric knew what was about to happen, he was about to be on the receiving end of a jinx. He had never felt a jinx before, but he knew they could be quite nasty and evil. He hoped that the jinx this boy had in mind wasn't particularly evil. He wished his father were here; the entire school feared his father, and for that reason most of the students left Salric well enough alone.

"After your father maliciously deducted points from me and had the nerve to assign me a detention as well, he had the audacity to mock my potion. My potions are never good enough for that heartless bastard! He told me that if I had continued to stir in the raven feathers, I would have blown up the entire classroom! Do you know what happened then?"

Dustin's eyes narrowed in on Salric's, his wand raised and ready to strike. Salric closed his eyes tight and shook his head no; he just wanted this to be over with. He wanted his father to come to his rescue.

"Everyone laughed at me," the boy spat. "Everyone always laughs at me when your father has his way. I'm sick of it! Now, I'm going to have my revenge. Now, I'm going to hurt the Professor's slimy, sneaky, snarky son. Then your father will leave me alone."

Dustin began to chant the spell, but Salric wasn't listening. Salric squeezed his eyes as tight as they would let him and wished with all his might that his father would walk into the abandoned classroom. He wished his father's deep, silky voice would boom to his rescue, he knew that voice incited fear into the hearts of every student; but to Salric it was the voice of a saviour.

And suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere; "Mr Martin!" The voice was loud and angry; it seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once. It was louder than Professor Dumbledore's during the opening feast; it was so loud Salric was certain it could be heard throughout the entire castle. The voice was frightening, it was the angriest Salric has ever heard, but it did not frighten Salric, on the contrary; it filled him with warmth. His father had come to save him.

Dustin on the other hand fled to the other side of the classroom, his malicious expression changed to one of pure terror. His eyes were wide with fear and Salric could see beads of sweat had started to drop down the sides of his face. "W-w-where are you?" Dustin stuttered.

"I ask the questions here!" the voice bellowed. "What are you doing with my son?"

Salric took this opportunity to flee from the abandoned classroom. He was expecting his father to be right outside, but he wasn't. Salric didn't want to hesitate to ponder where his father was, so instead he ran faster than he had ever run before. He didn't stop until he reached the safety of his father's quarters in the dungeons. He dived under the emerald sheets in his bedroom and didn't leave the safety of his bed until his father came to him. It was then that his father explained to him that indeed the entire castle had heard his father's voice booming through the castle walls, but it hadn't been his father who was speaking; it had been Salric's first bout of accidental magical that had caused the phenomenon.

Salric smiled as the memory faded. His father had been so proud of him that day. Instead of acting rash and arguing with the older boy, or resorting to the Muggle means of physical attacking the stronger boy, Salric had instead summoned the voice of his father, the voice of authority to come to his rescue; even if it was accidental. His father had told him it was a very cunning and Slytherin thing to have done.

Salric loved it when his father praised his accomplishments; he especially loved it when his father informed him of how Slytherin he could be. Salric groaned as he realized how un-Slytherin his actions this afternoon had been. He had deliberately argued with his father, sulked on the sofa in the sitting room, and then purposely soaked his perfectly clean clothes in order to anger his father. He was acting like a rash Gryffindor, and he knew all too well how his father acted towards Gryffindors.

Salric lay down on the grass, letting the warmth of the sun radiate off his body. Salric was debating whether he should apologize to his father for acting like his father's least favourite House, or if he could possibly sneak into his bedroom and change his clothes before his father even noticed the state they were in. He was so deep in his thoughts, that he didn't notice another person had joined him on the hill by the shore of the lake.

"Salric Snape!" shouted a silky voice and Salric shot straight up. The voice that had once saved Salric from a very unpleasant jinx did not fill him with feelings of warmth at that particular moment; instead the voice filled him with feelings of shame and guilt.

"Yes dad?" asked Salric, spinning around to face the man in question. He noticed his father's stern face staring at him, but his eyes didn't look as menacing as he thought they would, all things considered.

"Why are your clothes soaking wet and patched with grass stains?"

Salric let out a soft groan. He had been stupid for lying down on the grass when he knew his clothes were wet.

"And why, may I ask, are you wearing your good shirt and trousers? I thought I told you to change before you went outside." Severus stepped closer to Salric and rolled his eyes. His clothes were absolutely filthy.

"I'm sorry father; I just couldn't wait to get some fresh air." Salric hoped his father wouldn't catch the lie. He didn't want to make his father even angrier by letting him know just how Gryffindor he has been acting.

"Don't lie to me," said Severus coldly. "I am well aware as to why you are in the state you are in."

"You are?" said Salric, he couldn't help but sound amazed. His father always seemed to know everything.

"Yes," replied his father curtly. "And I do apologize that we didn't make our annual trip to Diagon Alley this afternoon, but as I told you I had important work to tend to."

"I know dad," huffed Salric, suddenly interested on the blades of grass at his feet. "It's just; today I would have gotten my wand."

"And you still get your wand," his father almost shouted. "I told you we are going to Diagon Alley tomorrow. You have spent most of the day sulking I daresay you realize it's almost time for dinner."

"It is?" Salric was shocked. So much time had passed since he stormed out of his father's quarters in an angry daze.

"Yes," replied his father, a small smirk appearing on his face. "Now, stop acting like a spoiled Malfoy and understand that sometimes life doesn't happen as you have planned. Come wash up for dinner and join me and the staff in the Great Hall."

Salric trailed after his father as they walked back towards the castle's entrance doors. He had been acting like spoiled Draco Malfoy. Determined he didn't want to end up like his blonde companion he sped up after his father, his thoughts turning to all the adventures he would have tomorrow in Diagon Alley, and what kind of wand Mr Ollivander would give him.