He was furious. Severus had never felt anger quite like it. He could feel blood rushing through his ears, feel it pulsing through his temples. He was dizzy with rage. He forced his throat to strangle the scream threatening to erupt from the deepest place within his body. He ran from his house, the fury that was threatening to choke him, to suffocate him was also the fuel that wouldn't let his legs stop running. After about a mile when he'd reached an isolated field his legs gave in, he buckled and fell to the ground. His body was wracked with sobs, bitter tears of agony streamed down his face dripping from his nose and chin. He was disgusted with himself for crying because of her, he hated her, he HATED her! He didn't care what she thought, pathetic, vile, weak she was barely an excuse for a witch so why did she make him feel such anguish. Despite himself he wailed into the night, he had no-one. It was too much. He clawed at his skin, scratching at his stomach, his arms, trying to rid himself of the pain. He was never going back, never going home to them. After a while he found the sickening anger receded a little and his sobs calmed down. He allowed himself to think again of what had happened. His parents had been sat in the living room, his Dad watching the television, his Mum leaning against him reading a book. Severus noted that they looked more harmonious than usual, like a happily married couple even. He decided then that it would be the perfect moment to ask his parents, well his mother, if he'd be able to have a couple of spell books for his ninth birthday. He figured that if he could learn the theory of all the basic spells before he went to Hogwarts then he'd be much more advanced than his fellow school mates when putting the spells into practice.
"Mum. Muuuumm! You're not listening to me!"
" Mmmm. What's that darling?"
"Spell books. I said I want, I would like please" the boy corrected himself, "spell books for my birthday."
Severus noticed that his Dad had stopped watching the TV, his eyes were now fixated on his young son. He couldn't figure out the look etched upon the man's face. Scorn perhaps?
"Well" Severus spoke impatiently, although wary now of the danger signs beginning to form in his Father's profile. "What do you think?"
"No." It was his father who spoke.
"I wasn't asking you" Severus bit sharply before he could stop himself. "Why would I care what a stupid muggle says I can or can't do."
"WHAT did you call me?!" his father roared now standing.
"I was talking to Mum, we're the ones who can do magic, you're just-" but Severus had stopped talking. His father had been so engulfed with rage at his son's insolence it was like he had been rooted to the spot for a moment, but now he was lunging for his son, heavy arms out in front of him. It was his mother's hand, however, that caught him, that slapped him hard across the floor before his Dad could reach him. Stunned, he looked up into the dark black eyes of his mother. The woman who had defended her son from her husband so many times, who had often jumped in front of him to save him from his Father's wrath of fury, and who had bore the bruises almost as evidence of alliance with her son, had just knocked him across the room.
"Shut up!" she screeched although no-one was talking. "How dare you talk to him like that in our house! Get out! OUT!!"
Severus had scrambled from the room, from the house, without even bothering to grab his coat. He lay there now looking up at the stars that were beginning to appear in the late afternoon December sky. It was cold, even for winter, he wondered if it would snow. He wondered what would happen to him, who would find him in the morning, his body like ice under a motionless sheet of crisp white. He wiped the tears from his face. Red tears? He must be bleeding. He dabbed at his nose with his sleeve. How could she choose that monster over him? Life didn't get worse than this he knew, he could never ever feel more pain than he did right now. It would be impossible.