February 20, 1968 - Little Park, Cokeworth
She was back at the park two days later, the bruises gone from her neck faster than what was humanly possible.
Was she magical as well?
The thought made his heart stutter in his chest. He had never met a magical person outside of his mum.
"Hello, Cassiopeia."
"Hullo, Sev'rus."
That was all they said, sitting quietly and observing the park in front of them; leaning their back against the tall oak tree.
"Are you hurt today?" she asked him, finally breaking the silence.
"No," he answered with a slight smile. His father had passed out drunk, and probably wouldn't wake until the next day.
"Good."
They sat in silence for a little bit more, before Severus pulled out an apple from his pocket.
"Wan' some?"
"I–I've never tried it."
He gave her the apple, and watched as she took a bite, closing her eyes as if in heaven. Some of the sweet juice dripped down her chin, and she flushed a little as she wiped it away.
"It's delicious, Sev'rus. Thank you."
"You can have some more, you know," he replied uneasily, gesturing slightly with his long and pale fingers.
She grinned slightly and took another bite, clearly savoring the sweetness.
"Thanks, Sev'rus," she said, after finishing the crispy bite; then added with a sad smile, "I'd have more, but I'm no' used to it - I don't wanna be sick."
He nodded. Food was scarce enough in his own house, but he had seen kids worse off than he.
"Eat some yourself," she grinned, and handed him back the delicious fruit.
Her eyes sparkled when he took a quick bite. It was actually better than the ones he'd tried before; not that apples were a common food in his house. He finished it in two bites, it was quite small.
"D'you wanna play in the playground?" Cassiopeia asked, unsure.
Severus nodded hesitantly in agreement. He had tried playing with other kids before, but he had soon learned that he was ugly, and awkward, and unlikable and that nobody wanted to play with him. It had hurt, a little, but he had soon learned that the kids in his neighborhood were generally bad playmates as well. They were dirty, uncultured, and dumb. He, at least, had some self-respect, and tried not to be seen covered in dirt and spewing every unintelligent thought that came to his mind.
He realized that he had been silent too long and Cassiopeia had hurt in her eyes.
"Sure," he answered, trying to smile, though it felt awkward on his face. It had been a long time since he had cause to actually smile.
They walked side by side in comfortable silence. It took merely a minute before they reached the little place, and Severus looked around, unsure as how to play with another person.
"What's your favorite?" Cassiopeia asked hesitantly, and Severus contemplated the options before him.
There was the metal slide, of course, the one kids used most often. It was roughed up around the edges, and the older kids liked to sign their names on its underside. The ladder was missing a rung and the wood was rotting at the ends. The sandbox was there too, holding about as much dirt and grime as it did sand. No, the sandbox was not his favorite - and the sand got under his nails uncomfortably. A rusty roundabout that squeaked was the next to catch his eye. Its colors were faded and the metal bars were decorated in grafitti, but it still worked well enough. And lastly, the swing, the one he used most often. He liked the rush of wind in his ears and his long hair as he swung high, and the thrill.
"The swing," he decided at last, and Cassiopeia smiled.
"Mine too. It feels...freeing."
He hummed in agreement and with a sudden impulsivity ran towards the swing, almost throwing himself on the seat and starting to swing high.
"Aren't you joining me?"
The girl's face blew up in a sudden grin, and she too ran towards the seat.
They swung on the swings for a long time, looking out across their little town. It was peaceful, joyful even. He found he was glad for Cassiopeia's company – quiet though it was.