DISCOVERY

Tick, tock, beer o'clock. Severus Snape edged into a corner as his father swung open the living-room door, his footsteps making window panes rattle. True to form, he held a bottle of Guinness and a look of confused confidence. Was the bottle half full? Severus craned his neck, nodding slightly. Then his black eyes darted to the floor before such curiosity was spotted. Looking was a capital offence at Spinner's End. It meant curiosity, and curiosity was forbidden. In fact, as his father had insisted with his clammy hands around Severus' neck, curiosity was insolence.

Did he know how to spell insolence? Well, no. But Severus would never say so, since answering back counted as another offence- rebellion this time- and rebellion was forbidden. Needless to say, he could not spell the word rebellion, which meant he was a "no-brains boy". Apparently, this was his mother's fault, as was typical of her kind. Women! Should be seen and not heard, as his father often said- yet Severus often wondered how his mother could often incite anger by refusing to speak. Not speaking was hostility, whatever that meant, and his father did not allow hostility.

Beer o'clock was silent. First came the swigs. Afterwards, some gasps and smacking lips, before his father staggered around the room. Dusty bottles huddled in the corners clinked and toppled, along with jars and even the occasional book.

"What is this-? That woman! I'll-"

Thump! A heavy volume hit the wall and slid to the floor, narrowly escaping Severus' head. He could have moved, except for his legs remaining locked together. To keep his mind from considering the various curses and beatings in store today, he wondered instead which new words would be forbidden. "Cold" and "wet" were exiled from Spinner's End last week, as they demonstrated ingratitude. So Severus had to continue sleeping on a lumpy mattress under the leaky ceiling, as well as creaks as November winds lashed the house. He now wandered about the house with handkerchiefs.

"Should burn this rubbish, I should," his father mumbled, taking another swig. "Foul, nonsensical..."

Severus glanced out of the window, as he had done many a time during beer o'clock. Could he reach the world outside, grey as it seemed? Would it welcome him?

Or did boys with no brains belong at home sniffing, wiping, tiptoeing, and recoiling? His stomach jolted whenever he considered this question, as though something were rattling a cage there. Then a flash of heat in his fingers, seemingly from nowhere. It had happened before, only to vanish. One time, he had seen his mother hunched over something inside her bedroom, whispering... The back of his neck had grown warm as though he recognised the words- yet he could not repeat them. Other times, his mother gave him a sharp look, only to melt into wearied indifference.

"Dreaming again, boy?"

With a jolt, Severus stared at his father.

Smash!

The Guinness- it shattered, spraying the room with glass crystals and golden showers.

No. He cannot have-

But the rivulets of beer seeping into stained floorboards crushed his denials. He shrank into the corner, biting his lip so hard that blood trickled down his chin. This was it. Every defence mechanism leapt into action: fingers buried into his palms so that he would not cry out. Back straight, head averted, eyes to the ground. Any moment now, those feet would close the distance between them, a tree trunk arm raised into the air, and then-

-Gasps.

Severus blinked. Surely... But no, another gasp. He trembled. This must be a trick to encourage further punishment.

His father had shrunk. For the first time, Severus saw no neck, even very little chin. Meanwhile his own was coated in globules of blood which spattered onto his bare feet. He could not but stare, even through a wave of paralysis in his limbs. His father's eyes... Terror had blinded them, the cruel mouth now stuttering. A finger stabbed the air in silent judgment, sending chills down Severus' spine.

Somewhere behind him, a door creaked.

"You-" His father's voice had descended into a raspy bass. The finger kept jerking as though electrocuted. "You're a-"

Despite near-fatal dizziness, Severus continued staring. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a light switched on. A door opened, a tunnel that once seemed impenetrable lay clear before him. He felt no fear. Rather, it had all radiated onto his father.

"You're one of them!"

A door closed softly in the background, leaving a chill in its wake. One of them- meaning different? New? Flexing his sore fingers, nothing felt different, let alone powerful. Still... could he try this again? Would he be beaten if so? Or would his father get wind of this somehow, twist it to his advantage, and crush the rebellion underfoot? And yet observing his father's black eyes, so excruciatingly matching his own, his stained shirt (like his), he dared to weigh the alternatives. Power... freedom?

Silence descended upon Spinner's End. Tomorrow, Tobias Snape would recover his wits, screaming at his wife for birthing a wizard. Eileen Snape's eyes would glint for a moment as she heard the word, only to face into wearied indifference. And Severus would hover outside their bedroom door, longing for answers but daring to ask none.

In that moment, everything would change.

A/N: Thanks for reading. For more Snape fanfiction, come join me and others at AlwaysSnape.