When it is time to go home for winter break, I only pack a few belongings. Hopefully my mum and dad can give me some money to go to the donation center over break. Lily's parents said I could stay at their place for Christmas if I wanted, and I'm sure my parents won't care. I zip my backpack up and carry it out of my dorm. I'm wearing one of the sweaters Lucius gave me, my old jeans, and my sneakers. My jeans have gotten even shorter on me than they were before. Usually I tuck this sweater in since it's big on me, but today I leave it untucked since my jeans are a little tight. I'll change into my dad's old sweater once I'm on the train. This semester, my sneakers got so small on me that I had to curl my toes! When Lucius noticed I was walking funny, he stretched my shoes with a charm, but since they already had holes in them, the holes got bigger, too. My parents always get me a new pair of shoes for Christmas from the donation center, so hopefully my new ones don't have too many holes in them this year. I get some odd looks from the other Slytherins, but nobody says anything. I look at the floor and let my hair cover my face.
On my way out the door, I bump into Lucius, "Sorry!" I mumble, and try to get past him quickly so he doesn't know it's me hiding behind my overlong hair and muggle clothes.
"Watch where you're— oh! Severus!" he exclaims, grabbing my arm and pulling me back into the common room, "Just the person I was looking for! I meant to ask you before, but I couldn't find you anywhere! You seem to just disappear sometimes! I was wondering if you would like to come to my manor at some point over break! My father says he wants to meet you. I've told him and my mother all about how impressive your potions are when I've written to them this past semester."
"Oh, I-I-I-I couldn't! I wouldn't want to intrude!" I want to tell him that I already have plans, but I don't want to make him mad. It's better to just do what he wants, I suppose.
"It isn't intruding if somebody invites you. And besides, you wouldn't want to be rude to my father, would you?"
"Oh, I guess so. I was going to see my parents, but I would love to see your manor!" I cover up my momentary ineptitude, and wonder internally what Lily is going to say when she finds out that I will be going to Malfoy Manor at some point this winter, rather than staying with her the whole time like we had planned. The guilt rises up inside me, but I push it back down, telling myself that someday she'll see that I'm making the right choices, and then we can both be happy.
"How about after Christmas?"
"Uh, sure!"
"December 26th then. Where do you live, and what's your address? Write it down for me— I'll find you," he says, pulling a spare bit of parchment and a quill out of his bag, "Coincidentally, where were you off to? The Great Hall?"
"Mm hmm!" I chirp, writing down my address and handing the parchment and quill back to Lucius.
"Why weren't you going with your friends?"
I was going alone so I could chat with Lily for a bit, but obviously I can't tell him that, so I just shrug, and say, "I dunno."
"You shouldn't be wandering off alone, Severus. That's why those Gryffindors pick on you. If you stuck with your friends and didn't go off alone, you wouldn't get picked on! Look! There's Mulciber now, why don't you walk to the Great Hall with him, alright?"
"Okay," I say, fixing my face so that I look pleased, "See you up there!"
Lucius ruffles my hair, and walks away. I sigh, and head over to walk with John.
When we get to the Great Hall, we talk for a bit about our holiday plans until the rest of our friends come up. Before we all leave for the train, I start stuffing food into my backpack.
"What are you doing?" John laughs.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" I frown.
"Stealing," John grins.
Shoving more food into my backpack, I mumble, "It's not stealing if it's free. I don't think Professor Dumbledore really cares if I eat all this now, or when I get home. Hand me a few of those biscuits there, will you?"
Clarence hands me the biscuits, and I shove them and a ham sandwich into my backpack.
"You're right, Sev. And we don't want anything to go to waste, right? We should all take something with us!" Evan says, grabbing an apple and a sandwich.
As we stand up to go, I grab a couple bananas and stuff them into my pockets, and as we walk out of the Great Hall, I grab another sandwich. I don't have room to put it anywhere, so I just hold it.
On our way to the train, Lucius gives me a piggyback ride while he and Rodolphus talk about their plans for Christmas. He tells them how he is taking Narcissa out for supper the night before Christmas Eve, and how he bought her pearl earrings for Christmas.
"What's she going to give you? A nice big kiss?" Rodolphus teases, "I'm giving Bellatrix a good time and a hickey."
Lucius chuckles, "Charming. What are you really getting her, Rodolphus?"
"I got her the new Dark Arts book she's been wanting and a bracelet," Rodolphus lowers his voice, then as if suddenly remembering I'm there, he looks up at me and winks, "you didn't hear any of that, did you, kid?"
"Any of what?" I say, smiling at him.
"That's what I like to hear," he says, smirking, "So, Lucius, what's the kid getting?"
"Well, if I told you in front of him, then it wouldn't be a secret anymore, now would it?" Lucius responds, "I'll tell you when we get to the train. Severus can sit with his friends, and we can speak a bit about other matters."
After a minute, I whisper in Lucius' ear, "What's a hickey?"
He snorts with laughter, "Don't worry about it. You'll know when you're older."
"Tell me!" I pout.
"It's like a kiss, but lower down."
"I don't get it."
"Good."
Confused, I shut my mouth. When we get to the train, Lucius tells me to go sit with my friends, and that he'll see me on the 26th. I smile, and give him a hug before running off to find Lily. Once I find her, it's nice to finally be able to talk to her in private again. The conversation feels stilted at first, as if we are getting to know each other again, but before long, we are talking again as the best friends we used to be. Neither of us have any money, so we don't buy anything from the lady with the trolley. As we ride along, we draw figures in the foggy windows and talk about all of our somedays.
Upon getting to the platform, Lily and I grab our stuff, and walk out into the crowd of parents excitedly milling about. After a few minutes of searching, we find Lily's parents towards the back of the station, waving to us. My mum is standing with them, looking awkward and worried. Thinking of nothing else, I run towards her. Dropping my bag, I throw myself at her in a big hug.
"How was your first semester? Did you get good grades? Did you mind your professors?" she asks, pulling away.
"Yes, ma'am! It was good! Do you wanna see my report card when we get home? I did good in all my classes! My professors said—"
Cutting me off, she says, "That's good to hear. Your hair looks nice. What have you been doing to it?"
"Lucius gave me shampoo and conditioner!"
"Lucius Malfoy?!" she exclaims.
"Mm hmm! That's him over there!" I say, pointing at Lucius. He notices, and starts walking over. I'm nervous for him to see me with Lily, but we live in the same town, and we've been friends for a long time. It's only natural we'd find our parents in the same place!
"That's wonderful! I'm so glad he likes you!" my mum says, nervously twirling her hair around her fingers, "I haven't seen him since he was a little boy!"
"You used to know Malfoy?!" Lily exclaims.
"Yes, but not very well. Our families weren't too close, so we didn't see much of each other."
Just then, Lucius walks up, and puts a hand on my shoulder, "Eileen, it's been a long time," he says with a cold smile.
"Lucius! You've grown so much! You look so much like your father!" my mum says, and I notice her voice is a little higher than normal, "Thank you for looking after Severus this past semester!"
"Of course, he's a smart boy, and very talented."
"What do you mean?" my mum asks quizzically.
"You're making third-year potions now, aren't you, Severus?" Lucius smiles down at me.
"Mm hmm!" I chirp.
"Good! I'll have him make me some potions for my headaches over break," my mum says.
"You're already making third-year potions?" Mr. Evans asks, "That's wonderful!"
I glance up nervously at Lucius, who turns and sneers at the Evans', "You must be the muggle family who lives in the same neighborhood as Severus."
Lily looks him in the eyes and, raising one eyebrow, says, "Yes. And Sev and I have been friends for a long time. We're best friends."
"Are you, now?" Lucius grins nastily, and puts his arm around my shoulder, "Well, that's news to me."
I look down at my feet.
"Eileen, you don't mind me taking him on the 26th, do you? My father's interested in meeting him."
"Oh, no, that's fine! You can take him whenever you like, I don't mind at all!" my mum exclaims.
"Lovely. Well, I'll see you on the 26th, Severus. Merry Christmas!" Lucius drawls, and walks through the barrier to leave the station.
"Well, he sure is a character," Mrs. Evans scowls after Lucius.
"That's the son of a very powerful, influential wizard. Very old family. I'm happy for Severus to be able to spend time with him and his family," my mum snaps.
Mr. and Mrs. Evans exchange looks, but don't say anything. Lily, on the other hand, looks hurt.
Before I forget, I ask my mum if I can go to the Evans' for Christmas, since they had invited me.
"Sure, I don't care. Just come home at some point on Christmas day to get your shoes. I'll measure your feet when we get home," she says, "Come along, we need to make supper for when your father gets home."
"Yes, ma'am. See you later, Lily!" I say, and give Lily a brief hug before leaving with my mum.
"Bye, Sev," Lily says sadly.
When we get home, the house looks even worse than it did before I left. The sidewalk is crumbling and cracked. The front door has one long crack down the middle with several small lines branching off. It screeches when we open it. Upon crossing the threshold, my mum turns the lights on.
"The electricity's back on!"
"Since you've been gone I've been working a lot more. Your father has been sober for a few months as well! He still has his job at the car factory! I think things are really turning around for us."
"That's great! Why did dad stop? Has he been like he was? Do you think he'll take us to McDonald's like he used to before the mill shut down? Has he been nicer? Has he been working a lot?" my face breaks into a huge smile— she's always said that someday dad would stop drinking and things would go back to the way they were.
"Well, when he first stopped he was very irritable, but he's gotten a little better. Your father has been working very hard. He's looking to get a promotion!"
"Why did he stop drinking?"
"I think if you're very good he might take us to McDonald's for something inexpensive."
"Why'd he stop, mum?"
"You sound different," she says as she turns away.
I want to yell ANSWER ME, but I push the feeling down, "Yes, ma'am! Lucius has been working on my accent."
"That's good, Severus. I'm glad he's been so helpful. You need to make sure you're giving back, though. What have you been doing for him?"
"I've been making him lots of potions and stuff. And he has me polish him and his friends' brooms before Quidditch games! And—"
"Good. You behave yourself with him, right? I hope you're making sure you do whatever he wants! Yes?"
"Yes, ma'am!"
"Good. You're very lucky he likes you," she says, giving me a rare smile.
"Yes, ma'am! Can I show you all my good grades?"
"Some other time, okay? I think it's time for you to go upstairs and put your things away before your father gets home. And after supper, don't let me forget I need to take some measurements of your feet so your father and I can get you some shoes for Christmas."
As I head up the squeaking stairs, I wonder what made my dad stop drinking. The last time he stopped was when I was in St. Mungo's for a whole week. The time before that was when he broke my arm and my nose. And the time before that… But this time he'll really stop for good! I know it. No more somedays. After putting my bag down in my room, I sit on my mattress for a few minutes, imagining the life I'll have now that my dad is sober. Fidgety, I go downstairs to look in the refrigerator. There's a pound of ground beef, a gallon of milk, and a dozen eggs. I close the refrigerator and look in the cabinets to see a box of spaghetti noodles, five bananas, a couple of cans of tomato sauce, a few cans of vegetables, a small loaf of bread, an onion, some cloves of garlic, a few potatoes, and seasonings. I smile, and look over at my mum.
"Can I show you my report card yet? I learned a lot at school this year!"
"Not right now. I'm busy making supper."
"What are you making?"
"Spaghetti bolognese. I don't have all the ingredients my grandmother used to use, but it's fine."
My mum never talks about the Princes, so I carefully ask, "Can you tell me about your grandma?"
My mum sighs, and puts some water up to boil, "My grandmother was an amazing cook. She was gorgeous, and always told my brother and me stories about her childhood in Sicily. She's where we got the dark hair, olive skin, and these Roman noses from!" She shoots me a small, rare smile, "She taught me how to cook. I miss her a lot. I had hoped you'd get to have a relationship at least with her, but here we are." She looks sadly at the box of spaghetti, and takes a deep breath.
"It's okay, mum," I say, "Can I help you cook tonight?"
"Sure. Get the beef out."
I do as she says, and after a while, I say, "Narcissa said you used to sing."
"I did."
"She said you were good."
"That's very nice of her. Last time I saw her she must have been four or five. She always used to want to sing with us older girls," my mum smiles fondly, then frowns again, "But that was a long time ago."
"Why don't you sing anymore?"
"I'm out of practice," she sighs.
"Lucius says I look like Uncle Elliot. What's he like?"
"He's not a part of your life, so it doesn't matter what he's like," my mum says angrily.
I don't want to press it and put her in a bad mood, so I silently cut up the onion and garlic for the sauce. After a little while, I ask, "Why did dad decide to stop drinking this time?"
"Did you put a little bit of olive oil in that pasta like I asked?"
"Yes, ma'am. Why did dad stop drinking this time?"
"Severus Tobias Snape, I'm getting real tired of your questions! You had better shut your mouth, you hear me?" she snaps, brandishing her wooden spoon at me.
I take a couple of steps away from the spoon.
"Do I need to tell your father how impertinent you've been today? I know he does not want whooping you to be the first thing he has to do when he gets home from work!"
"I'm sorry! I was just curious!" I plead, "Please don't tell dad! I'll be good! I promise! I promise I'll be good, mum!"
She sighs angrily, and goes back to her cooking, "Fine. I won't tell your father, but I don't want to hear one more word out of your mouth about his drinking, or about my past. Do you understand me? It was a different time!"
Anger boils inside of me, but I push it back down relentlessly, and mutter, "Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry."
"Whatever, just go. Get out of my sight. I'll call you when it's time for supper," she snarls.
Frustrated, I head back upstairs. While I wait for supper, I put away the couple of shirts and the pair of jeans I brought home. Hopefully this week I'll be able to trade in my old jeans at the donation center. When my dad finally gets home, my mum calls me back downstairs to set the table. I am tense. My dad seems tense too. When we are finished eating, he gets up from the table, ruffles my hair, and walks to the television. While my mum and I clear the table and clean the dishes, he watches the television and strums his guitar. When I finally climb into bed, I am very worried. I remember all the times that my dad would get drunk and beat me then act like nothing happened the next day, and I am afraid. I try to tell myself that he's sober now, but I just can't bring myself to believe it. To make myself feel better, I push my trunk against my door before I lie down to sleep. My dreams are mixed: sometimes I am fishing with my dad before the mill closed, and sometimes my dad is chasing me, trying to get me, trying to kill me. When I wake, I am covered in sweat even though the house is cold.
For the first few days that I am home, my mum is at work almost constantly, as is my dad. When he does come home, sometimes he talks to me about work, lets me watch TV with him, or plays cards with me, but other times he's irritable, and sends me to my room. On Wednesday, my dad had to whoop me because I accidentally tracked a little mud into the house from the woods, but I suppose I deserved that. When my mum comes home at eight o'clock every night, she hurriedly cooks what she has told me to prepare for supper earlier that day, then goes to bed.
On Thursday, my dad brings me home a hamburger and fries from McDonalds. I offer to share my fries with him when he complains about being tired from work, but he says he already ate. While I eat my food, I lay on the floor and mess with my favorite toy truck.
"That lil red one was always my favorite, too," my dad says, motioning to my truck, "What'd you get up to today while me and your mum were at work?"
"Well, today I went to the woods, and I swept the floors for mum," I don't mention the charms homework I struggled with, or the potion ingredients I prepared for my mum's headache potions.
"Good. You see any tracks out there?"
"I seen— I saw some deer tracks in the snow! And some 'coons."
"Them deer been gettin' too bold— I seen one the other day on my way back from work. Almost run into it 'cause of the ice," he chuckles, and takes a sip of coke, "I need to fix up my old gun so I can go huntin' again. You know, Rus, you don't sound like you used to. You tryin' to sound like them rich kids at your school?"
My heart starts beating quicker, and I fight to remember that he's just drinking coke. Still, I don't want to make him mad at me, "No, sir! I didn't notice that! I reckon they just sound different."
"Good. I don't wanna hear you soundin' like them— you're the son of a good, hardworkin' family, not some rich kid who gets shit handed to him whenever he wants, you hear me?"
"Yes, sir."
"It ain't right— I don't like you goin' to that school, but I reckon your mum knows best," he snorts, "ah well, you wanna grab that pack of cards over there? I'm ready to beat your ass at 7-Card Stud."
I smile as I go grab the cards, shuffle, and deal them out.
On Friday, I make all the healing potions I can with the ingredients my mum has in the house to help my mum with her headaches. My mum left a little money for me to go to the donation center and get myself one new pair of school pants, so before I go to the donation center, I go to Lily's house to ask her if she wants to come with me. I bring my old jeans that are too small to trade in as well. We peruse the racks of clothes for a while before finding a few pairs of pants and jeans for me to try on. There's a Christmas sale going on, so I end up getting two pairs of school pants with the money my mum left me. I get one in my size and the other a size too big so that I can grow into them. Since I traded in two pairs of jeans, I get two new pairs of jeans as well. One in my size and one a size too big. I don't know when I'll have enough money for two pairs of school pants again, so I figure it's a good idea to plan ahead. When I get home, I put away my new jeans and school pants, and clean the house so that it looks like a normal family lives in it. I shake the rugs out, sweep, and wipe down every surface I can reach. When my parents get home from work, my dad tells my mum the house looks great, and that she did a good job cleaning. She smiles at him and says thank you, and that I helped a bit, too.
On Saturday, while we eat breakfast my dad tells me that I look like a girl and that my mum needs to cut my hair.
"Turn around and let me see where it comes down to, Severus," she says tiredly.
I stand up and turn around and pull all my hair to the back. It's grown a considerable amount since Narcissa trimmed it before Slughorn's first dinner party.
My dad snorts into his coffee, "See, Eileen? Don't he look some type of way?"
"You do need a trim, don't you? How short do you think, Tobias? To his shoulders? Or shorter like how I cut yours?"
I want to tell her that I like it cut to my shoulders or a little longer like how Narcissa did it, but I don't dare open my mouth and voice my opinion. She didn't ask me, anyways.
"Shorter, then he won't look like a girl when it grows out. I don't want my boy lookin' fruity."
I want to ask what fruity is, but I don't want to make him mad by interrupting.
"Alright, go take a quick shower, detangle your hair, and get the scissors and comb," my mum sighs.
"Yes, ma'am," I mumble, and trudge off to the bathroom. I don't want to have short hair! I like my hair longer! Lucius has long hair, and my mum even said that all the men in her family have longer hair, too! It's not fair that I have to have short hair just because my dad says so! I take as quick of a shower as possible, wrench my pants back on, comb through my wet hair, throw the towel around my shoulders, and angrily grab the dull scissors and comb. When I get back to the kitchen, I set the things on the table and sit down.
As my mum begins sectioning out my hair, my dad throws back the rest of his coffee, stands up, stretches, walks over to the couch, sits down, and starts tuning his guitar.
"Mum?" I whisper.
"What?" she snaps, "Don't distract me while I'm cutting your hair! I don't want to make any mistakes!"
"What's fruity mean?"
She snickers, and responds, "It's when a man likes other men. Your father doesn't want you looking like that."
"I don't get it. Why's it wrong to have friends? Dad's got friends from work!"
"No, that's not what I meant. You know how your father and I are a couple? And how Lucius and Narcissa are together? Your father doesn't want you to look like the type of boy who wants to be together with other boys."
"Oh!" I exclaim.
"That would be silly, right?" she laughs, "No, you're going to grow up and marry a beautiful lady. Are there any girls you like at school?"
I try to think for a minute about the girls in my classes, but I don't really see any of them as anything besides friends, so I shake my head.
"I was a late bloomer, too, so don't worry."
"What does that mean?"
"Well, one of these days your voice will get lower like your father's, and you'll start getting nice and tall, and your muscles will get stronger, and you might be able to get some facial hair! My brother never was able to grow much facial hair, though," she muses, "but your father has to shave pretty frequently, so maybe you'll get his genes!"
"Maybe," I say, hoping I don't.
"Anyways, I'm sure you'll find somebody when you're older. Don't the Rosiers have a girl about your age?" she says.
"No, ma'am! You mean Evan! He's in my year!" I exclaim.
"What about the Blacks?"
"I hate Sirius, and he's a boy, anyways. He's in Gryffindor, too!"
"What?! I'm glad you didn't let me down like that! I can't imagine poor Auntie Walburga— I mean, I can't imagine his poor mother. How embarrassing!"
"I know! He's so obnoxious! He's always pickin' on me, and when I tell him and his friends to stop, they just get worse!"
"Ain't nobody ever stopped 'cause you told 'em to, Rus. You need to show 'em you mean it," growls my dad from the couch.
"He'll get in trouble for fighting at school!" my mum exclaims.
"He might get in trouble, but they'll know not to mess with him. They paddle you at school, boy?" my dad asks.
"No, sir. They have us do detention. Like helpin' clean and doin' lines and stuff," I say.
"No kid ever learned a lesson like that," my dad snorts, "they oughtta use the paddle. That's what they did in my day, in normal schools. That's why we got all these disrespectful kids runnin' around nowadays. They ain't gettin' whooped no more! That's the only way you'll get kids to mind! Your daddy ever whoop you, Eileen?"
"Heavens, no! But I'm a lady! I got spanked a few times, but you don't take a belt to a girl. Besides, girls are much better behaved than boys to begin with. Everybody knows that!"
My dad laughs, and says, "That's true! Though Rus ain't too bad, but I whoop him when he don't behave, so he knows to mind us," and goes back to strumming his guitar and softly singing,
"Will ye go, lassie, go?
And we'll all go together
To pluck wild mountain thyme
All around the bloomin' heather
Will ye go, lassie go?"
When my mum is finished cutting my hair, it hits about an inch above my shoulders. It hasn't been this short in years, but even though I hate it, I thank my mum, sweep the floor, throw out the cut hair, and put away the scissors and comb.
"Severus?" my mum calls to me as I walk back into the sitting room.
"Ma'am?"
"I need you to fold and put away the clean laundry I did this morning. I'm going to clean the kitchen, then I need to go to work. I think your father said he was putting in some overtime today, so stay out of his way and let him rest."
"Yes, ma'am. Have a good day at work, mum, dad," I sigh, and start walking to the stairs.
On Sunday, we go to church as a family. My mum wears the same dress she always used to wear to church every Sunday before dad lost his job at the mill. It hangs off her bony frame. When I see, I pray that she will get to eat a lot at work this week. Upon hearing that Monday is the day that my dad will get the news about his promotion, I pray about that too. When we get home from church, my mum begins making peanut butter sandwiches for lunch. My dad kicks off his boots at the door, throws himself onto the couch, and sighs.
"Damn, what I wouldn't give for some whiskey right about now. Ah, well. Rus?"
"Sir?" I say, removing my own shoes, grabbing one of my old workbooks that Lily's dad gave me, and lying down on the floor.
"Go get me a coke."
"Yes, sir," I mumble, getting up and grabbing him a cold bottle of coke from the refrigerator.
He cracks it open, and I lie back down on the floor.
"What're you doin'?"
"Schoolwork," I shrug, then, so that he doesn't think I'm working on anything magical, I hold up the workbook to show him that it's just math.
"I guess that's good. How old are you now, boy?"
"I'll be 12 in January," I mumble, looking at the equations.
My dad snorts, "You sure don't look like it. I'd've guessed maybe eight or nine! Don't they feed you at that damn school?"
"Yes, sir! There's lots of food there!"
"Then why do you look like that?" he asks angrily, gesturing at me, "I know I was bigger than that when I was your age, and we just saw my buddy Keith and his family at church, too! Billy's definitely bigger than you, and I know you two're around the same age! And my buddy Sam from work— his son's younger than you, but he's bigger, too!"
I hear my mum sigh as she puts down one of the dishes she's washing, "He's fine, Tobias. He's just small for his age."
My dad shakes his head, saying, "Yeah, I'm sure. Well, you'd best eat when you get back to that school, you hear me, Rus?"
I nod, and mumble, "Yes, sir. I grew two whole inches this last semester!"
"That's good. I want you to keep growin'. I don't want no son of mine goin' around lookin' like a weak little girl. No wonder them boys pick on you! Hell, I'd pick on you, too, if I was one of 'em!" he laughs.
"Toby…" my mum sighs again.
"What?! You can't tell me he don't look like the type of kid that gets picked on!"
"He'll get bigger at some point," my mum murmurs, then, looking at me, exclaims, "Severus, can't you do something productive instead of just lying there like a slug?"
I stand up, annoyed, and say, "Yes, ma'am." I put my workbook and pencil down on the coffee table, grab the broom, and begin to sweep the floor. I was already doing something productive, but it's fine. I can work on my math when they're both gone at work tomorrow or something.
On Monday, the day we're supposed to find out about my dad's promotion, he doesn't come home until very late. I hope that he got the promotion, but I have a feeling that he would have come home earlier if he had gotten it. I lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep, and when I hear the door slam, I know that the news won't be good. Shaking, I hug my knees to my chest and wait.
