February 21st, 1969

Rose Evans was smiley and kind, flour smearing white into her brilliantly red hair. John Evans was stern with a harsh gaze - bred on war rations and air raids. Perhaps that made it all the more surprising, when it was Rose who snapped.

When Harry was nine he brought a flower back to life. He bled red back into withered petals, Petunia watching in wonder next to him, and scribbling down notes into a little notebook. It was slow work: each petal furling individually outwards, and they were far too caught up to hear calls for tea.

Rose Evan's calls died in her throat at the sight of them. But speech came back to her all too soon: "Witchcraft," she said, voice trembling and loaded with anger, and then she was dragging Harry, kicking and yelling, and all too afraid to hurt his mother with his own accidental magic.

She read to him from her lovingly held Bible, told Harry that witches burnt - that although he was a boy, he had still sinned. And then she 'beat it out of him'. Strong, relentless kicks, each one a burning impact on his side. Rose made Petunia - trembling and white-faced - watch. And then she held her daughter tenderly by the shoulders and said, "Do you understand 'Tuney?" Petunia looked determinedly at the ground. Soft fingers - brushed with sugar and yeast - tilted the child's chin upwards. "I said," came Rose's voice, steely. "do you understand?"

Petunia met her mother's gaze and nodded.

Though magic was wondrous and bright, she understood that some people were scared of it. She understood that she'd have to help Lyle hide it.

Rose, satisfied, left, her Bible held very carefully under arm and not a hair out of place. Petunia waited until their mother was out of sight to rush to Lyle's crumpled side. "Are you all right?" she asked worriedly.

"I'm fine, it's the others who were attacked by wrackspurts." he mumbled in response, with a twitch of a smile: some inside joke that had him laughing, which turned into hacking up little globlets of blood. Petunia very, very carefully helped Lyle up, and they made an odd, stumbling pair on the trek from the garden to his bedroom.

Then, she laid a cold washcloth over his head. "Rest." Petunia commanded, because she was the older sister and her word was law. Lyle hesitated as he always did, never quite letting his guard down, but eventually his eyes shut.

When his breathing deepened, Petunia took the red flower out her pocket and turned it over in pale hands. She'd meant to press it between the pages of her notebook, so she'd know what type of flower was magical - what she might be able to revive like Lyle later ('though magic never does work for you,' a small voice whispered mockingly in her head).

But that was the before. Petunia trod the flower beneath her foot. Magic was simply too dangerous.

July 16th, 1969

Severus Snape watched covetously, as a small boy walked through the park, his sister hurrying to catch up. When she did, she grabbed his wrist with white fingers: "Mother's going to be worried." she said primly. The boy shrugged her off a little too harshly (like Severus, he didn't like to be touched).

"We've got awhile yet." he said simply, and anticipation built in Severus. The other boy was going to use magic again, he knew he would. The sister knew it too, because her face was bleached of colour. "Mother doesn't like it." she tried again, something heavy and unsaid between them.

"But you do." he said simply, and there was no denying it, as the girl flushed with shame. Severus smirked. Of course a muggle would be in awe of their magic (except him, father greeted magic with fists and cigarette butts).

The boy broke into a run. Gravel broke away under foot, and legs pumped faster and faster, muscles tensing, faster still - and then he leapt, as high as the trees, and hovered in the air for a split second, face filled with utter bliss.

Severus couldn't help his loud whoop, as he emerged from the bushes: pallour sickly with greasy hair, clothed in second-hand clothes. Petunia screamed, and the boy crashed back down to earth with a muttered curse.

"I'm magic too," said Severus, trying to save the situation (and it was falling apart around him). He expected many things: wonder, or even fear.

He didn't expect the boy to snarl "Snape." with disgust and stalk off.

Harry loved flying. It may no longer be in his blood, but it made his magic sing. And in the grimy, industrial town of Cokeworth, a magic-propelled jump was the closest he could get.

Harry had known, objectively, that Snape lived in Cokeworth: he remembered Snape's pensive memories, and his fascination with Lily Evans. But he'd never expected to be nose - one exceptionally long - to nose with the greasy git himself.

It took everything Harry had not to curse the boy - so dejected, and small but still Snape - like his magic ached to. Instead, Harry hissed through gritted teeth, and let Petunia drag him away.

When he was alone, finally, Harry toppled a tree with an angry wave of magic: because Snape could have saved Harry (if only he'd done more than contact Kreacher; gotten over a childish feud and checked on Sirius himself). Snape was a bully.

And Harry was even worse. He'd dragged his friends into danger - and they could be dead for all he knew: clever Hermione and brave Ron, passionate Ginny and even Loony Lovegood - Luna, Harry corrected himself. Just Luna.

No-one, not even Dumbledore, could expect Harry to befriend Snape as his mother once had Harry reasoned. But Harry knew another abused child when he saw one - bruises and oversized clothes - and he didn't have to like him, just make sure he stayed alive.

So a bemused Severus Snape found several beef sandwiches and a treacle tart addressed to him, and practically vibrated with excitement. There was no sender's address, but he didn't need one. This had the boy from the park written all over it. And the spark of excitement inside Severus grew into a tentative flame. A few miles away, Harry Potter shivered in horror.

AN: I think the story's going in an interesting direction (cue evil laughter), and thanks to those Accio-Cavy and nadasnape for reviewing - this chapter's for you.