The 25th of December 1973
-Firewhisky-
In the darkness beside the flashing lights of the Christmas Tree, all Severus can smell is alcohol.
It wafts through the still frozen air like poisoned gas, intoxicating and yet terrifying.
His father had come home for Christmas, his unshaven chin grazing his mother's face, the putrid smell of whisky puffing out of his mouth like small clouds.
It is safe by the tree, its lights throwing colours onto Severus' face, silently betraying the anger and resentment captured there.
Green. Red. The lights flash. Green. Red.
Anger and Resentment.