Chapter 16 - The Root of It All
"Let's talk about those four boys from Gryffindor House, Sev," said Asphora LaChance. She was wearing a pretty dotted Swiss dress with lace embellishments around collar and cuffs.
"Let's not and say we did," Severus Snape replied, curling his long arms and legs into a fetal knot.
"Sev," the healer said. "Why did you take on protective coloration right now?"
"Protective coloration? What is that supposed to mean?" the Slytherin boy snapped.
Miss LaChance chuckled. "Sorry. It was an analogy. Sometimes animals like chameleons turn color so they won't be seen. What I meant is that you curled up in a ball as if you were about to be hurt and wanted to disappear. I wondered why – that's all."
The boy gradually came out of his crouch to rest against an oak tree. He amused himself by throwing the acorns one by one into a stand of bushes just to see if he could throw that far. He had always been dismal at athletics.
"Sorry I was snotty just now," he said.
"No problem, Sev. The more anger you release during your stay with us means the less you'll have to deal with when you return to school. You do want to return to school, don't you?"
Severus shrugged. "My throat hurts."
"That's called avoidance, my young friend! We'll see to that when we disapparate. You might be cooking an infection from your throat surgery. However. You need to answer my question first, please."
"I suppose I'll go back. Nowhere else to go."
Asphora reached forward and gently brushed the boy's aura with her fingertips.
Severus flinched. "Sorry for that," he said, hoping that she realized the response was automatic.
"That's all right. You've had your reasons."
"What are you doing?" the child said.
"Getting a reading on your state of mind, honey. Hold a moment." Asphora exhaled and rubbed her shoulders. "Whew. You're very Dark today, sweetheart. Lots of fear, lots of jealousy, lots of resentment and rage."
"That sounds about right," Snape said, dipping his head so that his hair hung in his face.
"We'll see what we can do about that. We'll talk here for a while. Then you can visit with Aloysius and Sibelius. And finally, your Headmaster has promised to come visit you tonight. Sound good?"
Severus looked up with a slight smile. "Yes," he said.
"You love your Headmaster," the healer began. "I know that. But you're also quite angry at him. Does it have to do with his failure to stop that group of boys who are in his own House?"
Sev nodded. "They're always right and I'm always wrong, it seems. Except when I ran off into the Forbidden Forest. They got in trouble for that – prank." He involuntarily shuddered.
"That was more than just a prank, Severus. It was nearly soul-murder." Asphora tipped her head and looked at the child. "And I'll bet you're afraid of more confrontations with them when you return, aren't you?"
Severus nodded again.
"You miss your friend at Beauxbatons. She always stood with you when that group of boys did something to annoy or harm you."
"I miss her with all my heart. But I know I have to get over it because she's obviously forgotten all about me. I'm nothing but a baby and a mess without her."
"I think you're doing fine, sweetie. Let's go slow and take it one step at a time. Why don't you tell me how the trouble with that group of boys – the Marauders, I believe they call themselves -- started?"
Severus sighed deeply, sliding further down the tree trunk until his head touched the ground. "Ouch," he said, reaching underneath him. "Lousy acorns."
Asphora LaChance smiled. "Just like life, huh?" she joshed.
Sev smiled. "Great aches from little acorns grow," he punned.
Asphora threw her head back and laughed.
"That was marvelous, Sev!" she chuckled.
"It was good, wasn't it? All right, then," the Dark child said, smiling at his own joke. "Here we go. The sad story of Snivellus and the Marauders -- "
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They had all met on the Hogwarts Express that September day. All were first- years and nobody had a clear idea of what school would be like.
After Remus Lupin, James Potter, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew introduced themselves to one another, all eyes turned to the sulky black- haired boy who sat scrunched up against the train window, his large nose in a book. Several other volumes rested on his lap.
"I think I know who you are," Sirius Black said. "I think my folks know your folks."
"How fascinating," the boy replied, scanning them with his pitch-black eyes. "Severus Snape. Charmed, I'm sure." He rolled his eyes and returned to his reading.
Severus was a child who had endured a lifetime of abuse. He trusted no one. People made him afraid. He had never really had any friends when he was younger, so never learned the social graces that other children had. Others perceived him as rude and abrupt, and his behavior today was no exception.
"Snobby git, isn't he?" Sirius Black said. He did not like his own family as it was, and saw no reason to like the Snapes either.
James Potter, who wore round horn rimmed glasses and sported a bad haircut, nodded. "His mama never taught him any manners."
"His dad never taught him manners, either," Pettigrew (the rotund blonde boy) added.
Severus blinked hard. His dad had taught him many things, none of them good.
The door of their train compartment suddenly slid open, revealing a witch with a pushcart of goodies. "Want anything, dears?" she asked. All five boys perked up and made their respective purchases. Remus Lupin – the quiet ginger-haired boy – bought five packets of Chocolate Frogs and handed them out.
"Thanks, Remus," Sirius Black said, opening his. "I've got Dumbledore!"
"So do I," echoed James Potter.
"They must have printed a lot of them, because that's who we got too," said Pettigrew, motioning toward Lupin. "And what does the snotty git smushed up against the windows have?"
Without a word, Severus Snape held up his card.
"Salazar Slytherin," Black whispered. "Snotnose Snape must be a Dark wizard- in-training."
"I wonder where he'll get sorted?" said Peter Pettigrew.
"Are you ignorant?" James Potter retorted. "He's a nasty little snake. I'll wager that the Sorting Hat will put him in Slytherin House."
Severus shrugged, tucking his card in his shirt pocket and biting off the head of his chocolate frog. "Much obliged for the candy," he said to Remus. He then turned back to his reading.
"What's the book?" said Pettigrew. Already, he was showing his hand as a nosy and ignorant boy.
"Let us have a look, Snake-Boy," laughed James Potter.
Snape said nothing, holding the volume tightly. He leaned forward slightly to guard the books on his lap, as if expecting an attack. Severus was used to attacks.
Sirius Black – easily the tallest eleven-year-old in the group – darted forward and snatched the book out of Snape's hands. "Let's see here. This is the Die Unaussprechlichen Kulten."
The other boys chuckled at Black's attempt to pronounce the German words. Potter's arm darted out to block Severus, who had launched himself over sideways to snatch it back.
"Oooooooh, how faaaaascinating!" Pettigrew squeaked.
"Easy, Severus Snot. We're just having a look. Remus – pick those other grimoires off the floor and toss 'em over here."
Severus managed to shove Potter's arm away from him and reached forward to snatch the sides of Sirius Black's long hair, tugging it hard with both hands. He knew all about inflicting pain, having frequently been on the receiving end of it himself.
"Geroff him," Potter shouted, grabbing the boy's bony shoulder. Black seized the boy's wrists and squeezed them so hard that Severus let go of his hair. That done, Potter yanked him back to his seat.
"Give me my books," Snape growled, fists clenched. "Give them to me right now."
"Oh, hold off, won't you, Snots?" Sirius Black said. "Touch me again and I'll blow you away like smoke." He sorted through the volumes as if he was in a bookstore contemplating a purchase. "Let's see. The Nec – Neckru – oh, hells. The Necronomicon by some Arab guy named -- Abdool Ahazery, or some such. I don't know. This one is by somebody named Ludvig Prinn. De Vermis Mysteriis. Sounds riveting, Snotty the Snake-Boy! What's that one on the floor, Remus?"
The slender quiet boy handed Black the volume.
"Hmmmm. De Furtivis Literarum Notis, by um -- Giovanni blah blah Battista blah blah della blah Porta. Looks like the reptile over there knows Latin. Is that right, Slithery?"
"Give – me – my – books," Snape snarled. "Final warning."
"What are you going to do to us if we don't, Snottynose?" James retorted.
Without another word, Snape pulled his wand from his sleeve, whispered a few words, and turned them all into lizards.
"Call me a reptile again, you horses' asses, and I'll make the change permanent." He laughed, watching them crawling about the train seats in confusion. With another wave of his wand, he changed them back.
The future Marauders looked at one another in a state of astonishment. "You bloody little snake!" Black spat. "Try that again and I'll cram these books down your throat."
Disgustedly, he flung them at the boy, who picked them up and put them into a satchel that lay slung over his left shoulder. Then – without another word – Snape got up and left the train compartment, never to return.
"What in the name of Seven Hells was that all about?" Pettigrew said.
"I don't think we're allowed to do magic yet," said Remus Lupin. "Are we?"
"That kid is dead meat next time he comes 'round me," Black growled.
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"Not an auspicious beginning," Asphora LaChance sighed.
"Not at all. It seems like we all stepped in it the moment we met one another. It gets worse, you know."
"Really?" the psychic counselor replied. "I'm listening!"
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The children had been offloaded from the train into horseless carriages. Nobody but Severus knew that they weren't horseless after all, but drawn by thestrals. His father sometimes used them as part of his Dark rituals.
The boat ride was next; he was in the same boat as that Loopy kid or whatever his name was. Severus was surprised that the boy didn't taunt him, but only looked at him with his old and weary eyes.
And then it was on to Professor McGonagall (considerably younger) and the Great Hall. She explained the Sorting Ceremony and began on the newly arrived First Years at once. Those four gits on the train were all sorted to Gryffindor; Sev relaxed somewhat since he didn't really consider himself Gryffindor material. He knew that his father wanted him in Slytherin House, which was enough to make him pray for Ravenclaw.
"SEVERUS SNAPE?"
And then – it was his turn.
The four boys at the Gryffindor table watched him approach the stool, all hissing and making sideways snaky motions with their hands. Professor McGonagall placed the hat over his head. Severus closed his eyes and hoped for the best.
"Another Snape, eh?" it said. "Slytherins first and Dark wizards second. Looks like your family tree only produces bitter fruit!"
"I can't help that, you know," Severus growled as harshly as he could.
"Such a Dark head on these boy-shoulders; his head's crammed full of forbidden arts and his hide bears the marks of his father's hatred. Unloved and unlovable. Sad, very sad."
To his absolute horror, Severus Snape's eyes overflowed with tears. He tried to stop them.
No I will not cry I will NOT cry Stop that STOP IT YOU IDIOT DON'T CRY IN FRONT OF ALL THESE STRANGERS!!!!!!!!!
The Sorting Hat ignored his tears. "Broken heart or broken bones, boy; tell me which is worse if you can! No place for you except - SLYTHERIN!"
Despondent, Severus waited for Professor McGonagall to remove the hat, rubbing his eyes like mad. Hanging his head so that his greasy hair covered his face, he stood up and managed to put one foot in front of the other towards the proper table.
Slytherin.
Great gods, Slytherin!
Damn it all, his mother had been a Ravenclaw!
"Cry baby cry, stick your finger in your eye, and tell your Mum it wasn't I," James Potter hissed as he passed by.
"BOOOOOOOOOOO HOOOOOOOOOO," Remus Lupin added.
"Bawl baby bawl; look at the baby bawl!" Peter Pettigrew remarked, grinning and pointing.
"I liked the name Snotnose all right, but here's one I like even better – Snivellus!" Sirius Black crowed triumphantly. "Snivellus Snape! That's it!" Black stood up and bowed. He received a polite smattering of applause.
"Shove it upside down and sideways, Sillyass Black," Severus hissed in reply.
"Wooooh, I'm so frightened I might mess meself," Black cried, grinning. "Your robe probably weighs more than you do, Snivellus!"
Severus gave him a rude hand gesture familiar to most schoolchildren, not caring if the faculty saw him or not.
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Sev managed to find a seat in the front of the Slytherin House table. He raised his head and glared at his Housemates in case they had a couple of nasty comments for him. Nobody did, because the Sorting was over and Headmaster Dumbledore now stood, waiting for quiet.
"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts," he boomed. "We are happy to welcome our First Years in particular. I would like to say a few words. They are nitwit, pucker, isostasy, and antidisestablishmentarianism." Having gotten it all out on one breath, the Headmaster inhaled deeply and then raised his arms. "Enjoy the feast!"
Food of all sorts appeared before the students; young eyes sparkled as the children aimed their forks for the nearest platter and began to spear the choicest morsels.
Severus didn't eat much as a rule; his father had cursed his digestive system so many times that it really didn't work as well as it might have. Any rich food made him sick. He knew that was why he was so small and thin, but he really couldn't help it.
The Dark child looked around at the tablesful of lively boys and girls chatting and eating, and realized that he wasn't one of them and couldn't be if he tried for a thousand years. He sat there for a few minutes, gazing around him, and then stood and stepped over the long bench seating his Housemates and began to walk down the long central corridor.
"Bye bye Snivellus," Black cried, waving madly from the Gryffindor table. "Off to blow your nose? You'd better before somebody sics up their supper!"
Making sure that his nose in fact did not need wiping, Snape ignored him as he pushed his way through the massive double doors.
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It was already full dark outside. Severus didn't know where to go or what he was supposed to do next, so he sat down on one of the cold marble steps with a deep sigh. He hadn't been here for half a day and he'd already managed to make four enemies and no friends.
He remembered the Black kid now; his own father had said that Sirius was the "black sheep" of the Black family. Severus hadn't really understood what the senior Snape meant at the time. Reflecting upon it now, Sev correctly deduced that Black's family didn't really want him.
"Join the Club, Sillyass," he murmured, fingers digging into his thighs.
"Now which club might that be, Mr. Snape?" a voice asked from a stand of bushes to his right.
Caught off guard (which Severus knew to be a highly dangerous practice), he whipped his head around in the direction of the melodious and somewhat comforting voice.
"Forgive me," said Albus Dumbledore, walking over to him. "I noticed that you might have a case of First Year nerves. It's very common, my boy; I've seen hundreds of students with it." The Headmaster gestured to the right side of the cold marble steps. "Might I sit a moment?"
Stunned speechless and seized up with fear, Severus nodded. What had he done now? When his own father sat next to him like that it was to grab his hair and punch him in the face, or to drag him off to participate in some disgusting and painful Dark ritual.
"Another Snape to grace our Halls," Dumbledore said, seating himself and smiling at the undersized and shivering child. "And I remember your mother very well. A Ravenclaw, if I'm not much mistaken. You have her eyes."
Severus nodded, keeping his face averted. His own father considered a look in the eye a gesture of intimidation and acted accordingly. "Yes, sir," he answered.
Dumbledore reached over to smooth the hair from the boy's face; Severus cried out in panic as the fingertips touched his forehead. He launched himself off the steps and crawled under the nearest stand of bushes to the left.
Once he realized what he had done, excruciating embarrassment took the place of any involuntary fear he might have felt a few moments ago. "I'm sorry, sir," he said, his thin body curled in a ball and his forehead touching his knees. "I – didn't mean to be rude to you. I just don't like – "
"– To be touched, is that right? Well, Mr. Snape, I know you have your reasons and I would be happy to honor your request. Come and sit; I promise not to touch you, all right, my boy?"
Sev hesitated. This man had called him "his boy" twice now. What did that mean? Why would anyone want to claim a nasty useless brat like him for, anyway?
"It's perfectly all right if you stay where you are, of course," the Headmaster added. "I may be as old as the Hills but am not adverse to crawling under my bed during violent thunderstorms!" He gave a kindly smile to the boy still cowering in the bushes.
"Do you really?" Severus asked, raising his head.
"I swear it," he said. "Silly, I know, but I think silliness is a perfectly acceptable characteristic of a good wizard – or a good student. I have the feeling that you are very bright, Mr. Snape."
Sev nodded. "I hope so, sir."
"I think that you will find Hogwarts a better home than the one you left, child. In case you find making new friends difficult, see Professor Penderdandis, your Head of House, or Miss Price, your House Mother, as they are sure to help. Of course, I will always do what I can to help you as well."
Severus nodded and slowly rose, brushing dirt off the seat of his only pair of trousers. "Thank you, sir," he replied quietly, stepping toward the steps.
"Come ahead," Dumbledore said. "I'm a man who keeps his promises."
Sev approached gingerly, and then sat down on the very edge of the cold marble. "Thank you, Headmaster."
"You're very welcome, Mr. Snape. Now. I know the house elves have prepared ice cream for dessert tonight. I'll bet you're a man who likes his ice cream."
Severus shook his head. "I've – never had any, sir," he said.
Dumbledore gasped as if he had been alarmed at the boy's statement; Severus shuddered and scooted away from him. Instantly sensing the child's fear, the Headmaster smiled his kindly smile. "Oh no, Mr. Snape, you misunderstood me! I just know you're going to enjoy a special treat tonight."
Severus looked up at him. "What kind is – the ice cream?"
"Well, it's my understanding that tonight's offerings will include strawberry, French vanilla, and pistachio."
"What kind do you like?" the boy whispered.
"Oh, I'm not picky," the wizard said. "I'm partial to pistachio, though, when the elves make it for us."
"What is that like?"
"It contains some very tasty nutmeats in it," Dumbledore continued, "but the highly shocking thing about it is that it's – well – green!"
"Green?" Sev echoed, smiling back at the man. "Does it taste good?"
"My boy, it is the absolute best!" the Headmaster said, getting up off the low steps with a groan. "You'd think that an arthritic old man like me would know better than sit on steps!"
Severus came right over to him, took his arm, and pulled him up. "There," the child said. "There you go."
"Thank you, Mr. Snape," Dumbledore replied, delighted that Severus had been able to touch his sleeve. "I think we should both go in and eat as much pistachio ice cream as we can hold!"
Severus grinned, pulling the heavy door open. He grinned because he'd taste ice cream for the very first time, and because the very first wizard he'd met in this strange new place hadn't wanted to inflict pain upon him.
When eleven-year-old Severus Snape walked back through the Great Hall with Albus Dumbledore, the greatest White wizard in the world, he felt positively special.
And he would love pistachio ice cream for the rest of his days – not because of the taste, but because it reminded him of the kindly headmaster who had made him feel so welcome.
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"That is a wonderful memory, Sev," Healer LaChance said. "It really is. And you see? He was looking out for you since the beginning, wasn't he? What I would also like to know is how your Headmaster favored the Marauders over you. Can you tell me about that?"
Obviously agitated by her request, Severus took an acorn and hurled it at a nearby silver maple tree. It cracked against the tree's rough bark and fell in two pieces.
"Bull's eye," the boy whispered.
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"Let's talk about those four boys from Gryffindor House, Sev," said Asphora LaChance. She was wearing a pretty dotted Swiss dress with lace embellishments around collar and cuffs.
"Let's not and say we did," Severus Snape replied, curling his long arms and legs into a fetal knot.
"Sev," the healer said. "Why did you take on protective coloration right now?"
"Protective coloration? What is that supposed to mean?" the Slytherin boy snapped.
Miss LaChance chuckled. "Sorry. It was an analogy. Sometimes animals like chameleons turn color so they won't be seen. What I meant is that you curled up in a ball as if you were about to be hurt and wanted to disappear. I wondered why – that's all."
The boy gradually came out of his crouch to rest against an oak tree. He amused himself by throwing the acorns one by one into a stand of bushes just to see if he could throw that far. He had always been dismal at athletics.
"Sorry I was snotty just now," he said.
"No problem, Sev. The more anger you release during your stay with us means the less you'll have to deal with when you return to school. You do want to return to school, don't you?"
Severus shrugged. "My throat hurts."
"That's called avoidance, my young friend! We'll see to that when we disapparate. You might be cooking an infection from your throat surgery. However. You need to answer my question first, please."
"I suppose I'll go back. Nowhere else to go."
Asphora reached forward and gently brushed the boy's aura with her fingertips.
Severus flinched. "Sorry for that," he said, hoping that she realized the response was automatic.
"That's all right. You've had your reasons."
"What are you doing?" the child said.
"Getting a reading on your state of mind, honey. Hold a moment." Asphora exhaled and rubbed her shoulders. "Whew. You're very Dark today, sweetheart. Lots of fear, lots of jealousy, lots of resentment and rage."
"That sounds about right," Snape said, dipping his head so that his hair hung in his face.
"We'll see what we can do about that. We'll talk here for a while. Then you can visit with Aloysius and Sibelius. And finally, your Headmaster has promised to come visit you tonight. Sound good?"
Severus looked up with a slight smile. "Yes," he said.
"You love your Headmaster," the healer began. "I know that. But you're also quite angry at him. Does it have to do with his failure to stop that group of boys who are in his own House?"
Sev nodded. "They're always right and I'm always wrong, it seems. Except when I ran off into the Forbidden Forest. They got in trouble for that – prank." He involuntarily shuddered.
"That was more than just a prank, Severus. It was nearly soul-murder." Asphora tipped her head and looked at the child. "And I'll bet you're afraid of more confrontations with them when you return, aren't you?"
Severus nodded again.
"You miss your friend at Beauxbatons. She always stood with you when that group of boys did something to annoy or harm you."
"I miss her with all my heart. But I know I have to get over it because she's obviously forgotten all about me. I'm nothing but a baby and a mess without her."
"I think you're doing fine, sweetie. Let's go slow and take it one step at a time. Why don't you tell me how the trouble with that group of boys – the Marauders, I believe they call themselves -- started?"
Severus sighed deeply, sliding further down the tree trunk until his head touched the ground. "Ouch," he said, reaching underneath him. "Lousy acorns."
Asphora LaChance smiled. "Just like life, huh?" she joshed.
Sev smiled. "Great aches from little acorns grow," he punned.
Asphora threw her head back and laughed.
"That was marvelous, Sev!" she chuckled.
"It was good, wasn't it? All right, then," the Dark child said, smiling at his own joke. "Here we go. The sad story of Snivellus and the Marauders -- "
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They had all met on the Hogwarts Express that September day. All were first- years and nobody had a clear idea of what school would be like.
After Remus Lupin, James Potter, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew introduced themselves to one another, all eyes turned to the sulky black- haired boy who sat scrunched up against the train window, his large nose in a book. Several other volumes rested on his lap.
"I think I know who you are," Sirius Black said. "I think my folks know your folks."
"How fascinating," the boy replied, scanning them with his pitch-black eyes. "Severus Snape. Charmed, I'm sure." He rolled his eyes and returned to his reading.
Severus was a child who had endured a lifetime of abuse. He trusted no one. People made him afraid. He had never really had any friends when he was younger, so never learned the social graces that other children had. Others perceived him as rude and abrupt, and his behavior today was no exception.
"Snobby git, isn't he?" Sirius Black said. He did not like his own family as it was, and saw no reason to like the Snapes either.
James Potter, who wore round horn rimmed glasses and sported a bad haircut, nodded. "His mama never taught him any manners."
"His dad never taught him manners, either," Pettigrew (the rotund blonde boy) added.
Severus blinked hard. His dad had taught him many things, none of them good.
The door of their train compartment suddenly slid open, revealing a witch with a pushcart of goodies. "Want anything, dears?" she asked. All five boys perked up and made their respective purchases. Remus Lupin – the quiet ginger-haired boy – bought five packets of Chocolate Frogs and handed them out.
"Thanks, Remus," Sirius Black said, opening his. "I've got Dumbledore!"
"So do I," echoed James Potter.
"They must have printed a lot of them, because that's who we got too," said Pettigrew, motioning toward Lupin. "And what does the snotty git smushed up against the windows have?"
Without a word, Severus Snape held up his card.
"Salazar Slytherin," Black whispered. "Snotnose Snape must be a Dark wizard- in-training."
"I wonder where he'll get sorted?" said Peter Pettigrew.
"Are you ignorant?" James Potter retorted. "He's a nasty little snake. I'll wager that the Sorting Hat will put him in Slytherin House."
Severus shrugged, tucking his card in his shirt pocket and biting off the head of his chocolate frog. "Much obliged for the candy," he said to Remus. He then turned back to his reading.
"What's the book?" said Pettigrew. Already, he was showing his hand as a nosy and ignorant boy.
"Let us have a look, Snake-Boy," laughed James Potter.
Snape said nothing, holding the volume tightly. He leaned forward slightly to guard the books on his lap, as if expecting an attack. Severus was used to attacks.
Sirius Black – easily the tallest eleven-year-old in the group – darted forward and snatched the book out of Snape's hands. "Let's see here. This is the Die Unaussprechlichen Kulten."
The other boys chuckled at Black's attempt to pronounce the German words. Potter's arm darted out to block Severus, who had launched himself over sideways to snatch it back.
"Oooooooh, how faaaaascinating!" Pettigrew squeaked.
"Easy, Severus Snot. We're just having a look. Remus – pick those other grimoires off the floor and toss 'em over here."
Severus managed to shove Potter's arm away from him and reached forward to snatch the sides of Sirius Black's long hair, tugging it hard with both hands. He knew all about inflicting pain, having frequently been on the receiving end of it himself.
"Geroff him," Potter shouted, grabbing the boy's bony shoulder. Black seized the boy's wrists and squeezed them so hard that Severus let go of his hair. That done, Potter yanked him back to his seat.
"Give me my books," Snape growled, fists clenched. "Give them to me right now."
"Oh, hold off, won't you, Snots?" Sirius Black said. "Touch me again and I'll blow you away like smoke." He sorted through the volumes as if he was in a bookstore contemplating a purchase. "Let's see. The Nec – Neckru – oh, hells. The Necronomicon by some Arab guy named -- Abdool Ahazery, or some such. I don't know. This one is by somebody named Ludvig Prinn. De Vermis Mysteriis. Sounds riveting, Snotty the Snake-Boy! What's that one on the floor, Remus?"
The slender quiet boy handed Black the volume.
"Hmmmm. De Furtivis Literarum Notis, by um -- Giovanni blah blah Battista blah blah della blah Porta. Looks like the reptile over there knows Latin. Is that right, Slithery?"
"Give – me – my – books," Snape snarled. "Final warning."
"What are you going to do to us if we don't, Snottynose?" James retorted.
Without another word, Snape pulled his wand from his sleeve, whispered a few words, and turned them all into lizards.
"Call me a reptile again, you horses' asses, and I'll make the change permanent." He laughed, watching them crawling about the train seats in confusion. With another wave of his wand, he changed them back.
The future Marauders looked at one another in a state of astonishment. "You bloody little snake!" Black spat. "Try that again and I'll cram these books down your throat."
Disgustedly, he flung them at the boy, who picked them up and put them into a satchel that lay slung over his left shoulder. Then – without another word – Snape got up and left the train compartment, never to return.
"What in the name of Seven Hells was that all about?" Pettigrew said.
"I don't think we're allowed to do magic yet," said Remus Lupin. "Are we?"
"That kid is dead meat next time he comes 'round me," Black growled.
----------
"Not an auspicious beginning," Asphora LaChance sighed.
"Not at all. It seems like we all stepped in it the moment we met one another. It gets worse, you know."
"Really?" the psychic counselor replied. "I'm listening!"
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The children had been offloaded from the train into horseless carriages. Nobody but Severus knew that they weren't horseless after all, but drawn by thestrals. His father sometimes used them as part of his Dark rituals.
The boat ride was next; he was in the same boat as that Loopy kid or whatever his name was. Severus was surprised that the boy didn't taunt him, but only looked at him with his old and weary eyes.
And then it was on to Professor McGonagall (considerably younger) and the Great Hall. She explained the Sorting Ceremony and began on the newly arrived First Years at once. Those four gits on the train were all sorted to Gryffindor; Sev relaxed somewhat since he didn't really consider himself Gryffindor material. He knew that his father wanted him in Slytherin House, which was enough to make him pray for Ravenclaw.
"SEVERUS SNAPE?"
And then – it was his turn.
The four boys at the Gryffindor table watched him approach the stool, all hissing and making sideways snaky motions with their hands. Professor McGonagall placed the hat over his head. Severus closed his eyes and hoped for the best.
"Another Snape, eh?" it said. "Slytherins first and Dark wizards second. Looks like your family tree only produces bitter fruit!"
"I can't help that, you know," Severus growled as harshly as he could.
"Such a Dark head on these boy-shoulders; his head's crammed full of forbidden arts and his hide bears the marks of his father's hatred. Unloved and unlovable. Sad, very sad."
To his absolute horror, Severus Snape's eyes overflowed with tears. He tried to stop them.
No I will not cry I will NOT cry Stop that STOP IT YOU IDIOT DON'T CRY IN FRONT OF ALL THESE STRANGERS!!!!!!!!!
The Sorting Hat ignored his tears. "Broken heart or broken bones, boy; tell me which is worse if you can! No place for you except - SLYTHERIN!"
Despondent, Severus waited for Professor McGonagall to remove the hat, rubbing his eyes like mad. Hanging his head so that his greasy hair covered his face, he stood up and managed to put one foot in front of the other towards the proper table.
Slytherin.
Great gods, Slytherin!
Damn it all, his mother had been a Ravenclaw!
"Cry baby cry, stick your finger in your eye, and tell your Mum it wasn't I," James Potter hissed as he passed by.
"BOOOOOOOOOOO HOOOOOOOOOO," Remus Lupin added.
"Bawl baby bawl; look at the baby bawl!" Peter Pettigrew remarked, grinning and pointing.
"I liked the name Snotnose all right, but here's one I like even better – Snivellus!" Sirius Black crowed triumphantly. "Snivellus Snape! That's it!" Black stood up and bowed. He received a polite smattering of applause.
"Shove it upside down and sideways, Sillyass Black," Severus hissed in reply.
"Wooooh, I'm so frightened I might mess meself," Black cried, grinning. "Your robe probably weighs more than you do, Snivellus!"
Severus gave him a rude hand gesture familiar to most schoolchildren, not caring if the faculty saw him or not.
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Sev managed to find a seat in the front of the Slytherin House table. He raised his head and glared at his Housemates in case they had a couple of nasty comments for him. Nobody did, because the Sorting was over and Headmaster Dumbledore now stood, waiting for quiet.
"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts," he boomed. "We are happy to welcome our First Years in particular. I would like to say a few words. They are nitwit, pucker, isostasy, and antidisestablishmentarianism." Having gotten it all out on one breath, the Headmaster inhaled deeply and then raised his arms. "Enjoy the feast!"
Food of all sorts appeared before the students; young eyes sparkled as the children aimed their forks for the nearest platter and began to spear the choicest morsels.
Severus didn't eat much as a rule; his father had cursed his digestive system so many times that it really didn't work as well as it might have. Any rich food made him sick. He knew that was why he was so small and thin, but he really couldn't help it.
The Dark child looked around at the tablesful of lively boys and girls chatting and eating, and realized that he wasn't one of them and couldn't be if he tried for a thousand years. He sat there for a few minutes, gazing around him, and then stood and stepped over the long bench seating his Housemates and began to walk down the long central corridor.
"Bye bye Snivellus," Black cried, waving madly from the Gryffindor table. "Off to blow your nose? You'd better before somebody sics up their supper!"
Making sure that his nose in fact did not need wiping, Snape ignored him as he pushed his way through the massive double doors.
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It was already full dark outside. Severus didn't know where to go or what he was supposed to do next, so he sat down on one of the cold marble steps with a deep sigh. He hadn't been here for half a day and he'd already managed to make four enemies and no friends.
He remembered the Black kid now; his own father had said that Sirius was the "black sheep" of the Black family. Severus hadn't really understood what the senior Snape meant at the time. Reflecting upon it now, Sev correctly deduced that Black's family didn't really want him.
"Join the Club, Sillyass," he murmured, fingers digging into his thighs.
"Now which club might that be, Mr. Snape?" a voice asked from a stand of bushes to his right.
Caught off guard (which Severus knew to be a highly dangerous practice), he whipped his head around in the direction of the melodious and somewhat comforting voice.
"Forgive me," said Albus Dumbledore, walking over to him. "I noticed that you might have a case of First Year nerves. It's very common, my boy; I've seen hundreds of students with it." The Headmaster gestured to the right side of the cold marble steps. "Might I sit a moment?"
Stunned speechless and seized up with fear, Severus nodded. What had he done now? When his own father sat next to him like that it was to grab his hair and punch him in the face, or to drag him off to participate in some disgusting and painful Dark ritual.
"Another Snape to grace our Halls," Dumbledore said, seating himself and smiling at the undersized and shivering child. "And I remember your mother very well. A Ravenclaw, if I'm not much mistaken. You have her eyes."
Severus nodded, keeping his face averted. His own father considered a look in the eye a gesture of intimidation and acted accordingly. "Yes, sir," he answered.
Dumbledore reached over to smooth the hair from the boy's face; Severus cried out in panic as the fingertips touched his forehead. He launched himself off the steps and crawled under the nearest stand of bushes to the left.
Once he realized what he had done, excruciating embarrassment took the place of any involuntary fear he might have felt a few moments ago. "I'm sorry, sir," he said, his thin body curled in a ball and his forehead touching his knees. "I – didn't mean to be rude to you. I just don't like – "
"– To be touched, is that right? Well, Mr. Snape, I know you have your reasons and I would be happy to honor your request. Come and sit; I promise not to touch you, all right, my boy?"
Sev hesitated. This man had called him "his boy" twice now. What did that mean? Why would anyone want to claim a nasty useless brat like him for, anyway?
"It's perfectly all right if you stay where you are, of course," the Headmaster added. "I may be as old as the Hills but am not adverse to crawling under my bed during violent thunderstorms!" He gave a kindly smile to the boy still cowering in the bushes.
"Do you really?" Severus asked, raising his head.
"I swear it," he said. "Silly, I know, but I think silliness is a perfectly acceptable characteristic of a good wizard – or a good student. I have the feeling that you are very bright, Mr. Snape."
Sev nodded. "I hope so, sir."
"I think that you will find Hogwarts a better home than the one you left, child. In case you find making new friends difficult, see Professor Penderdandis, your Head of House, or Miss Price, your House Mother, as they are sure to help. Of course, I will always do what I can to help you as well."
Severus nodded and slowly rose, brushing dirt off the seat of his only pair of trousers. "Thank you, sir," he replied quietly, stepping toward the steps.
"Come ahead," Dumbledore said. "I'm a man who keeps his promises."
Sev approached gingerly, and then sat down on the very edge of the cold marble. "Thank you, Headmaster."
"You're very welcome, Mr. Snape. Now. I know the house elves have prepared ice cream for dessert tonight. I'll bet you're a man who likes his ice cream."
Severus shook his head. "I've – never had any, sir," he said.
Dumbledore gasped as if he had been alarmed at the boy's statement; Severus shuddered and scooted away from him. Instantly sensing the child's fear, the Headmaster smiled his kindly smile. "Oh no, Mr. Snape, you misunderstood me! I just know you're going to enjoy a special treat tonight."
Severus looked up at him. "What kind is – the ice cream?"
"Well, it's my understanding that tonight's offerings will include strawberry, French vanilla, and pistachio."
"What kind do you like?" the boy whispered.
"Oh, I'm not picky," the wizard said. "I'm partial to pistachio, though, when the elves make it for us."
"What is that like?"
"It contains some very tasty nutmeats in it," Dumbledore continued, "but the highly shocking thing about it is that it's – well – green!"
"Green?" Sev echoed, smiling back at the man. "Does it taste good?"
"My boy, it is the absolute best!" the Headmaster said, getting up off the low steps with a groan. "You'd think that an arthritic old man like me would know better than sit on steps!"
Severus came right over to him, took his arm, and pulled him up. "There," the child said. "There you go."
"Thank you, Mr. Snape," Dumbledore replied, delighted that Severus had been able to touch his sleeve. "I think we should both go in and eat as much pistachio ice cream as we can hold!"
Severus grinned, pulling the heavy door open. He grinned because he'd taste ice cream for the very first time, and because the very first wizard he'd met in this strange new place hadn't wanted to inflict pain upon him.
When eleven-year-old Severus Snape walked back through the Great Hall with Albus Dumbledore, the greatest White wizard in the world, he felt positively special.
And he would love pistachio ice cream for the rest of his days – not because of the taste, but because it reminded him of the kindly headmaster who had made him feel so welcome.
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"That is a wonderful memory, Sev," Healer LaChance said. "It really is. And you see? He was looking out for you since the beginning, wasn't he? What I would also like to know is how your Headmaster favored the Marauders over you. Can you tell me about that?"
Obviously agitated by her request, Severus took an acorn and hurled it at a nearby silver maple tree. It cracked against the tree's rough bark and fell in two pieces.
"Bull's eye," the boy whispered.
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