MournfulSeverity- The fic gets all its inspiration for you. There are reasons why some chapters this fic is rated M, (non con) and you might find this chapter as one of those many reasons. Now onto the story.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, but my thoughts of AU and OC, the rest all belong to J K Rowling.

Chapter 9

Cokeworth, England

January 1960

When the young mother, her babe bundled into her bosom, had all but rushed through the cobbled streets of Cokeworth, the general frequenters around her cursed and spat at the two Many who were not knocked off their feet or had the contents of their bags and baskets, carts, and merchandise knocked off and scattered over the thoroughfare, stared at them curiously and shrugged off unimpressed. Very few of the townsfolk had seen Eileen Prince Nee Snape, after her marriage to a drunk brawler Tobias Snape.

By the time Eileen had reached the front gates of her broken-down house at Spinner's End, she was panting and little Snape was crying once again, probably because he was hungry. She made her way into the modest cottage. Without stopping at the kitchen or at the lone couch in the living room, she dashed up the stairs, taking two steps at once, and tumbled inside the bedroom.

Her husband only came in to grab fresh clothes and would spend the rest of his time, on the couch downstairs. Mindful, that Tobias detested baby items, she gingerly placed the wailing baby on the bed, saying soothing words in between wiping her fresh tears and unclasping her robe. Running out of his patience, the baby continued to scream and wail turning an unhealthy shade of red and blue.

"Oh! Merlin, his wails could wake even the dead," Eileen muttered under her breath. Throwing her robe and cloak on the bed, she picked up her son and walked out of the bedroom, hurried into the sparsely decorated nursery.

Sitting on a rickety armchair, that came from Mrs. Sommers's attic, she started removing the blankets which were wrapped snugly around the baby, now thoroughly soiled and sooty claw prints quite visible on the outsides. Shuddering at the memories of ravens, still fresh in her mind, she was shocked to find a miniature trunk that slid into her lap, once dislodged from the confines of the blanket. Carefully, placing it on a worn-out table by the window, she picked the baby up and fed it. Her eyes looked at nothing particular. The uncanny quietness of the house and the baby's rapid suckling filled the damp air. Her nerves finally began to settle back.

Once fed and pleasantly snuggled in his mother's lap, the newborn son soon dozed off. Making sure not to wake him up, Eileen gently dressed him in fresh baby linen and tucked him in his cot. Staring at his sleeping son, the mother realized once again, how foolish she had been. She felt around her pockets and brought out her wand, the round box, and the thick envelope. Hesitant and wary for a moment, she dropped the other two items on the table and tapped her wand on top of the miniature trunk. "Finite Incantatem". Gradually the trunk grew in size, and Eileen was too happy and far emotional to see her old Hogwarts trunk sitting right in front of her. She was also glad that she could still perform the basic spells.

Cautiously she opened it with tears rolling down her cheeks. The inside was lined with books and at the very center lay a rather expensive leather-bound case that only potion masters would carry about. In it were lined up the most exquisite and finely made knives and sickles of all metals ever required in a potion's lab. Many of these knives and sickles were handed down heirlooms of the Prince family- and the very thought of buying them at any apothecary in Britain was enough to drain one's Gringotts's vault.

Eileen closed the trunk, minimized it, her spell jittery, but was good enough to hold onto for the time being. She slowly walked back to the landing, lowering the attic ladder, climbed up, and shoved in the trunk to some dusty corner. She made up her mind to come up and see for herself, what were those books' Aunt Aida had given her.

Quietly closing the door to the nursery, the exhausted mother made her way into her small bedroom. Absentminded, she removed her dress, unpinned her hair, when she realized she had left behind the round box and the thick envelope. Throwing away her wet and dirty clothes in the laundry hamper, she walked back into the nursery quietly and picking up the forgotten items, reentered her bedroom. Placing the box, a rather unimpressive looking item beside her on the bed, she opened the letter.

A loud thud downstairs and an array of curses from her drunk husband, led the young mother in a frenzy. She just had enough time to shove the round box under the bed and the letter below the pillows, when the door to the bedroom flew open and a very inhibited and extremely angry Tobias Snape stood heaving, red in the face, and murder in his eyes.

Tobias had just taken a small break from the production line for a leak and had just taken a couple of quick puffs. Standing behind the warehouse, a spot frequented by many smokers, he wondered how life had been mocking at him. A baby wailing in his ears and a wife unworthy. She could barely cook and clean. The food tasted like sandpaper. He had chosen to do errands for the Jones who ran the canteen by the factory to pay for his lunch - loaf, and soup. Hell! He missed Maggie.

"So, the new daddy of the town, got his time to steal some puffs?" – Maggie, all dressed up, in chiffon primrose dress and a dainty hat, a cigarette perched upon an expensive cigarette holder dangling at the corner of her cherry red lips, stalked up in cherry red pumps and stood by a baffled Tobias.

Looking up and down at the newcomer, Tobias nodded and said," Time has done you good Mags. Look at you, it seems like you got a lottery, you do look good."

"Now! Before you go at tail wagging over me! Not all of us make blunders in life, do we? And keep in mind yourself, you are now talking to the new Mrs. Reynold Cokeworth. Oh! Yah! While you were busy changing diapers, I got married. You see, you were just a post where I could practice my skills. My Rony gave me this bright flashy stone- it is a solitaire diamond- not that you might have heard of something like that- would you? And woo! We got married in town last week! Now, where are my manners, Happy married life and fatherhood, hope that shoebox called home that you have, do well to your sorry kid, AH! I boy I heard!" Flashing him a cruel smile, Mrs Maggie Cokeworth, walked away swaying her hip and humming a song in her shrill voice," Music to my ears!"

Hours later, after downing a bottle of the whiskey, being hackled and roughed about by other brawlers outside Harris's pub, Tobias was angry and charged up like a bull before whom Providence was flashing a red flag. He didn't have the sense to blame his faith or his fate. He had the sole intention to make Eileen pay for all the misfortunes in his life. Thus, barreling through the evening streets, knocking off his front door, stomping up his rickety stairs, when he burst open the bedroom door, all his eyes could see were Eileen's rich forest green robes, lying over the faded grey bed sheets. That heavy and expensive cloth was proof that she was a witch. It was proof that she had perhaps gone back to rub shoulders with her rich snobbish family who refused to hand down a penny.

In two steps, Tobias crossed the room. Roughly grabbing his shivering and white as sheet wife, he snarled, "Where were you?"

Shaking and frightened, Eileen, managed to answer between dry gulps, "I went home, Father was angry, he kicked us out…"

Tobias was not thinking anymore. He had not slept with a woman, not even his wife after his marriage. Maggie had not only opened past wounds, but she had also literally dug her heels into his rib cage and had left bleeding punctures behind.

In a cold dreadful voice, the man of the house whispered menacingly, "Strip or I will rip your whelp's head off."

"Toby, don't, no you won't…" Backing off till she clumsily fell over the bed, Eileen made one last attempt to escape and go grab her son from the nursery. But Tobias had his hands over her dress and had ripped them off. Rolling her on her stomach, he began beating her, shoving her head in the pillows, muffling her cries. As if that was not enough, he wrenched her hands awkwardly behind her back, kneeing her legs apart, proceeded to carry on a barbaric act, primal and violent, which was perhaps going to reoccur for years to come- the act of domestic rape.

The young mother had tried. Truly she had for the last time, desperately wished for her magic to answer her call. She wished for her wand to come to her, when she had managed to speak for a moment, "Accio". But nothing had stirred at her will. Magic had for the first time completely deserted her, left her to deal with her tormentor.

As Eileen's sobs filled the damp and mute air, Severus, now awake by all the noises coming through the thin wall dividing the nursery and the bedroom, started wailing once again. The father, unperturbed by his act, kept shoving himself over his sinful wife, shouting in his hoarse voice, "Music to My Ears".

A/N: Your constructive opinions do matter, dear readers. This chapter was angst. But when was Prof. Snape's life not full of one exactly. I was having a chat with a fellow "Snily" and I told her all I wanted to gain from the above chapter was a realization- "Tobias is not seeking pleasure, Eileen is not able to do magic at the gravest of her moments till now, and Severus has experienced a lot even without knowing or understanding a bit of all that- and he is not even a month old."

I was hunting for a jazz song to go by the plot, and this one struck a chord. I know that this band came up years later than my current plot's timeline. Still, it is fan fiction and we all are playing with borrowed characters. "music to my ears"- watch?v=5CpPN659GJc