The lessons that followed were boring, hard, and uneventful, as there was little other confrontation with the children who had made fun of him (miss Brown didn't allow talking during class).

And yet, what had happened, was still on Severus' mind the whole time. He couldn't let it go, for it was intriguing to him. In a bad way. Wherever he was, people disliked him. His parents disliked him, but they had known him all his life. These people... He somehow had done something to get them to dislike him within moments of meeting him.

Was it his name? They had laughed at his name, but his parents had given him that name, and they didn't like him either. So it couldn't be his name, could it? Unless he had somehow pissed off his parents as he was born, and they gave him that name because they didn't like him...

So maybe it was his nose. Maybe his parents had hated him because of that nose, giving him that name because of it. He liked his name, but not his nose. His nose was too much like his father's.

So that couldn't be the reason. Unless his parents hated his father's nose... And he doubted his mother actually liked his father, or that his father actually liked himself, so maybe it was. There was no way to know.

All he knew was that there was something wrong with him. There just had to be. Why else would no-one like him? His parents didn't, his classmates didn't… he had never met anyone who did like him. But he didn't know why.

The bell indicated recess, and sent the class to its feet within seconds.

"Children," miss Brown said, "sit down."

"But the bell-" a boy tried.

"Jones!"

"Sorry, Miss."

They all sat down again. Outside, the other classes started to fill out and go to the schoolgrounds, and out back through the gates, back to their homes for the hour. But not them. Severus stared out of the window longingly. Not because he wanted to go home, but because he wanted to explore the town, for the first time in his life. But Miss Brown seemingly had different ideas...

"Snape. Are you paying attention?"

"Wha – " he looked up to see Miss Brown hovering above him. He only then noticed the class was filling out – she must've given them permission to go as well, he thought. "No, I wasn't, Miss," he admitted. "I'm sorry."

"Well? What're you waiting for? Go." He quickly got his things and practically ran out of the classroom, hearing Miss Brown mutter 'why can't they ever just walk' before he closed the door behind him.

He set foot outside the gates and felt the freedom wash over him. He had nowhere to go, nowhere to be, for a whole hour. A whole hour just to himself. Oh, how he loved that prospect.

He decided to just walk ahead, and he'd see where he'd end up. He started to walk over the bridge over the familiar dirty river that he remembered, if you followed it right, led all the way to his house, but he didn't go right, he went left, following the river, and the further he went, the nicer the houses were. He was sure some of them – if not all – had indoor plumbing. That was how rich these people were. He was amazed at the size of the houses. They were huge, and had trees and grassland around them instead of smoke and cobblestone.

He came by a playground, the school barely visible in the distance, where lots of children were playing, all from his school, he recognised by their uniforms. Yet he couldn't help but feelout of place, as he watched the boys and girls play on the swings or skipping rope or building in the sand that covered the playground. He didn't belong. He watched the people and he wondered why. He inspected them and tried to figure out why he felt so out of place.

Then he noticed why. As he looked at the girls their skirts fitted, their blouses weren't their mums', nothing was too short or too big. It all fit perfectly, and the boys were the same. His trousers were rolled up on the ends and held up by one of his father's belts. The trousers of those boys weren't. His blouse was his mum's, those boys had shiny new blouses. They had fitting jackets and scarves to help with the cold and his jacket was so overlarge it reached his knees instead of his hip. He looked poor, uncared for. And they didn't. Because their parents cared about them. Their parents had enough money to spend on them. Their parents were kind to them, and helped them, and were nice and loving. And his weren't.

That's why he felt out of place. Everywhere he went, that's why he felt out of place. He didn't fit in with these people, living such different lives from him.

He felt tears prickle in his eyes, and he turned around and ran as far away from it all as he could, back to the school. It wasn't fair. He longed to be like those children but instead ge was stuck with his parents and these clothes. It wasn't fair.

He stopped by the bridge over the river, and sat down in the grass by the edge of the water. He calmed down a little. Trying not to cry. He shouldn't cry. Crying was for babies.

He was just plucking some grass, he didn't have anything better to do. Not him, the poor boy from Spinner's End whose parents didn't care if he lived or died. No, not him. He just hoped he wouldn't be the only one on school meals because they were cheaper than homemade supper.

When the bell alerted him the break was over he made his way back into his classroom, feeling down and trying his best not to cry as he saw the other children, noticing everything that made them different to him – because that would only make things worse.

"Mum?" he asked later that day, as he came home from his first day. "The boys and girls at school are mean and-" His mother didn't let him finish.

"Mean? They're mean and you come complaining to your mummy, 's that it? What kind of man are you? Boys're supposed to be able to stand up for themselves, Severus! 'T is no wonder they're bullying you if you come running at the first comment. Show 'em they're messing with the wrong kid and then they'll stop," she patted him on the shoulder and that was that.

Sighing about the 'conversation', he went to his room to think of how to do this, how to show them he was the wrong kid to mess with.

The next day at school he didn't listen and didn't respond to the comments they made about his hair or his nose during and in-between class – he'd get them during break. He'd show them. Besides, it was best not to respond. That way the teacher, who already disliked him because of his inattention yesterday, wouldn't have a reason to single him out. Now it were just the other boys who got the stern looks (which shut them right up. Nobody wanted her to use the ruler, after all).

When Jones walked up to him during break he was almost happy. Almost. This would teach them, he thought. They won't mess with him after this.

"Hey greasy-head!" the boy yelled. Laughter erupted and a crowd of five and six-year-olds was quickly forming.

"Hello, hallow-head," Severus retaliated. It didn't catch on. He had to improve his insults, then. He couldn't have them be better at it than he was.

"Aw, trying to be funny, are you?" a boy sniggered.

"Shut it," he snapped. The boy didn't stop.

"Oh, you don' like it? What a shame, isn't it boys?"

More laughter.

"It's not funny!" He protested. He was supposed to get back at them now, not have them make more fun of him!

After school had finished that day, he walked through the streets with the brick houses where the workers of the Mill lived, including them. It was no secret the old mill was doing poorly. It was just a matter of time before it closed down – and his father would be sacked. Severus shuddered at the thought of that happening – he would be lucky to live after that day.

He closed the door behind him when he arrived home.

"Mum!" he called out.

No answer.

"Mum, are you home?!"

No answer.

"Great," he mumbled, as he found he was home all alone.

He went upstairs, and to his room. There was little else he could do. He fell face-first on his bed and lay like that a little while, listening to his grumbling stomach.

The school life quickly turned into a routine for the young Severus. He would wake up in the morning, walk to school, pay attention in class, and return home. His parents he rarely saw anymore, and he didn't mind that.

He didn't mind school, but there were things he disliked. He was a model student, never making a fuss or interrupting class in any way. He knew very well how to behave to avoid punishment.

Physical Education was something he grew to despise. Standing outside on his bare feet, with only his vest and underpants on, was something he hated. And Music and Movement seemed pointless to him. The commands from the radio were absolutely ridiculous and he didn't think any of it would ever help him, but unfortunately he had little choice.

The other children of course always made fun of him, especially during these moments, but he was starting to grow accustomed to this happening. Of course, he still needed to work out a way to get them to stop, but he wasn't sure how, so he pushed that into the back of his mind and took the insults.

Besides, it always made him feel better to see them getting punished for disturbing the class with their insults. It was their own fault for causing disorder because they just couldn't wait for break.

Severus rarely got punished in school, although his struggles with writing did get him strapped more than he liked. His handwriting was cramped and too small, but though he tried, it didn't get much better.

It was a good thing he rarely saw his parents.

The only thing he did enjoy a lot at school, was the Singing Together programme. The songs were interesting, and he never really sang before then, or heard anyone sing to him. His parents never sang, and they had no radio.

All in all, he thought his life had greatly improved. Just a year ago he had been stuck inside the house all day, trapped in his bedroom, and now the whole town was his playing ground. A whole new world had opened to him, and he was enjoying every minute of it.