Chapter 2: Demons in my Days

Enjoy!

***Addiction topic***

Hogwarts - 1987

Severus Snape

Severus Snape lets out a low groan that comes from deep within his chest as he rolls over from his side and onto his back. Opening his eyes he focuses on the deep green tapestries that hung over his bed and thought back to the days where he was able to rise to the morning and go, but, the constant abuse of the Dark Lord left his young body sore and stiff every morning instead. Not even in his mid 30's yet, his knees cracked as he stood and his neck tightened as if it were going to give out as he pulled his legs over the side of the bed.

This war couldn't end fast enough. He thinks to himself as he rubs a bruised, painful spot on his bicep.

Rolling his eyes sarcastically at his own thoughts, he runs his fingers through his hair. What did it matter?

It wasn't like he'd ever be "normal" again, anyway.

He had been left affected too deeply by the horrors of his past and to ever be able to fully move on seemed like an expectation far out of his reach. Memories of cold floors under his skin rippled his mind as his fingers grazed chilled desk tops, while the motion of escaping blood running from open wounds burned from under his healed skin and behind his skull nightly. Through his days as he would travel his way through the halls of Hogwarts blinking away ghost memories of his own broken bones and escaping blood, the pain he moved through on the same stone floor as the students did now. He was haunted by the screams of the cruciatus curse ripping from both his own throat and the throats of his victims, he would always remember desperate weeping for a God that wouldn't save them, and Severus knew that he would never be able to shake any of it.

Severus Snape's life was over while his body still lived on. His life did not allow friendship or affection of the slightest which makes a man turn cold after many years. The initial disconnection was easy, every sense of trust Severus once held had already broken a long time ago by enough people he once kept close. The Dark Lord was a ruthless controller with a love for torturing to get what he wanted with no emotional limit; only meant to kill and to cause pain where it pleased. After having traveled places he could never come back from and seeing things that would haunt his being for the rest of days, Severus simply figured it was easier to let no one care about him at all and in turn, not to care for anyone either.

Sighing to himself, he takes up stride through his private office quarters and into the lavatory where he stops before the sink and dips his hands under the running faucet. Taking in the warmth that waves over his cut and calloused fingers he splashes water over his face before leaning heavily on his arms, propping himself against the porcine skin. Taking a moment to look at his shirtless self in the mirror, his eyes trace the memories of addiction and bad choices that scarred and marked across his chest, neck and marked his arms. His eyes traced the dark lined veins that bled into his blackened branding that reminded him of the when the weight of his existence finally broke his young shoulders and brought him to escape the only way he knew how, the only way his had father ever taught him.

No one seemed to notice his new found habit at first, and he seemed to get away with his act for a good while. But, just like he knew, it was one high decision that would ruin the rest of his life. Severus would never be able to forgive himself nor would he ever get a proper chance of reconciliation and that in it's self was enough to keep a crack in his heavy weighted shoulders. It had been a short time before the death of Lily when he had pushed to the man who felt like a father to every student of Hogwarts. Albus Dumbledore. First, they only talked about foolish, pointless things as his arm itched, but soon he was crying and rambling gore and murder while promising to a life of light between shivering lips. After that night where the headmaster's hand rest on the kneeling young man's shoulder, Severus would swear the clouds broke for the heavens to see him brought into trust by the greatest wizard of the age.

Severus was dead already inside. A hollow feeling, where he coughed up webs and spiders that would repel and chase away. For the next years and into in the eve of the strength gaining storm, he would feel the chill of isolation now more than ever.

Two years, Severus pushes to himself as he buttons his shirt and robe, Harry Potter will come to Hogwarts.

This will all be over soon.

He sighs a final time before stepping through the exit while pulling on the face that showed his irritation towards life.

At least, if not anything else, he felt with every step that he was indeed making Lilly proud.

Haven.

It had been cold last night.

A deadly reminder of the oncoming winter, but, the money Haven stole that day would give her enough to rent a night's sleep in a barn a few miles from the city where she covered herself in hay and ate from a can. As she ate, she made plans to adjust with the air, to travel the city dumpers of the always busy Saturday crowds and wasteful apartment dwellers.

Tomorrow, she would travel by train to the financial district of London to search for what would get her through the next few days before continuing on to pit pocketing which always promised a good payout on weekends in expensive people with heavy pockets. Through the day she would collect a heavy jacket , a few zipper sweaters, a hat, a second layer of thick pants, along with socks and potential shoes but for now, that night, Haven would fall asleep warm and with a full stomach, sharing the space with a creeping barn cat and huffing horses.

...

Once her jacket had been switched and her socks changed with those much cleaner, she stood hidden, cast in shadow away from the midday sun in the alleyway opening. She was preparing herself for her next job, her more dangerous job. Watching well mannered and beautiful people pass by her unknowingly she hoped for success and with a deep breath, pulled her hood up and pushed herself from the alleyway and into a hurrying crowd.

Now that she was warm with more clothing hidden in a secure place, her target was cash and from there, food. So, she would travel through the crowded streets, bumping and picking from purses and pockets, crediting her innocence to her age which at some point over the last few days had noticed had lessened in it's charm. She had turned thirteen at some point a few days ago and noticed herself losing her innocent, childlike face for a strong jaw and prominent cheek bones and cold, stricken eyes.

She was growing up.

Someday's she would beg for money, it was a safer option and she would linger close to friends for protection but most days the payout wasn't worth it compared to picking pockets and the rush of the steal. It was a job that could get you punched and beaten, or worse, could get you forced into foster care or passed off to an locked down institution. But, unlike the other children that she watched travel with their mothers and families daily, her gaze would drop from a life she was never allowed as Haven had no other choice than to live the way she did. Her life was to rely on herself to survive in a world where her parents had died and no other family would take her.

Slowing her steps she allowed a new wave of people to quickly walk past her and from there decided to stroll a few streets before picking up her game once more. As a time passed, her eyes settled on a tall man dressed in a long, black coat that hung open waving close to him in his steps. His hair was thick and shoulder length, dropping over the sides of his face and blocking his peripherals for her advantage.

Perfect.

Haven smiled as her heart began it's rush, her eyes zeroing in just as a predator in hunting.

She slipped behind him, passing people and closing the space slowly, she's taking time to observe her target. He was tall and thin and did not look in the best of physical shape, she watched his left pocket swing with weight as his stride continued onward confidently. Sliding closer, her steps now matched his, now testing his attention and assessing his financial worth by clothing stitch and personal decoration. Her timing would match with the opening of a long allyway and with one smooth move she leaned into him as if she tripped, controlling her weight to fall against him, her hands making their way into his pocket, pulling whatever she felt.

"Sorry!" She exclaimed, and used his push to pull out her hand and take off down the open alley.

She broke to a hard toe jump run but was immediately yanked back by her arm. To her shock, he had his fingers wrapped around her wrist, his eyes shining venomously and with a murderous anger as he yanked her back towards him. With an expert wrist twist, she broke free and took off into the city traffic, dodging and weaving the squealing taxis to the the other side of the street where she leaped onto a row of newspaper containers and spun around quickly. Her eye's met his for the fleeting moment she needed to see his foot land land firmly on top of the hood of a horn blaring taxi before taking off again..

With a quick jump, she leapt back into the crowd and slid quickly into a near-by ally.

She didn't know if she lost him, but she ran a familiar route until she could breath no more. Full of immediate turns and chain linked fences she knew far too well, only the most advanced free-runners with already had knowledge of the route could accomplish the feat quickly enough to catch up.

With one last turn, she had made her way to an exit rout where on both sides were open to busy street and she slid herself into a small crevice between the shadow of two buildings. The brick walls were stories high and the space was a single person slot that only someone of her age and stature could fit standing comfortably in. She choked on her breaths that cried for more air as she tried not to pass out as she shuffled as far back as she could until the walls connected into the point and her back was chilled by the brick. She listened blindly to the sound of silence from the small slot of the illumined outer ally and after a minute, her breathing began to slow and her body softened. She found her mind moving from panic to where she was and she slipped her hand into her pocket to pull out her gain to assess it's worth. She had what weighed in her hand like a hearty bag of coins that were held in an old fashioned, deep green coin purse with a silver tightening string and a polished wooden stick. The stick she had felt slip from the mans sleeve when her fingers grasp for air on the first release, and as she examined it thoroughly and saw it was was made of deep brown polished wood with a hand carved handle formation at one side.

She had enough time to smile at the stick in her hand when without warning a pop erupted from out in the ally and a hand whipped into the crevice, grabbing her arm tightly before violently yanking her. She tried resisting as long as she was able, struggling to use whatever grip she could find on the cold brick sides and the stone ground under her heels. But, the stranger was strong and she was ripped from the small space and thrown into the larger, open alleyway where she used her weight by tumbling to her knees to force his grip to break way. Immediately stumbling a few steps she pulled herself up and turned wide eyed when she realized the person who pulled her from the ally and now stood tall in the light, was the same black haired man she had pit-pocketed and who had followed her across the street.

She stared in shock as the heavy moment of meeting wore on in silence, her boots planted firmly on the ground, her fingers tightening around the wood that felt as it were warming in her palm. The look in the man's black eye's struck fear into her soul and there was no doubt to his impending violence. She had been caught before by men like this, men who didn't mind forcing in a fist or a kick to her, sometimes more if the opportunity was 'right'. Nothing was worse than a thieving street rat, no crime easier to get away with than the beatings to a child of the gutter.

Haven went and did the only thing she could think of and raised the wand at the man who took his first step, pointing the tip directly between his eyebrows. Keeping her eyes on the man her thoughts left physicality as she slipped into a world she created long ago. A world where she was strong and powerful. A world where she could conquer all with this new magic wand she was holding tightly in her hand.

The man straightened up and gave a chuckle, his first sign of humanity while taking lightened steps towards her.

"Give that to me." The man's voice was quiet but his eyes and energy sparked her skin and rose the hair on the back of her neck and arms.

With a flick of her wrist, a small spark erupted and the man froze and lowered his gaze to her as she stood silent and wide eyed.

"You don't know what you're doing you silly boy. Give that to me! Now!" The man hissed, taking another step closer and reaching out with one hand.

"I will not." She said quietly, more to herself than for him as her own steps were made backwards.

The man's eyebrow arched and Haven found she had enough with all of this. Pulling her arm back she gave one powerful thrust at her elbow, bringing a thick blue beam to burst from the wands tip that was immediately broken with a wave of his own hand, but, he retreated a few steps back nonetheless.

From there they stared silently at each other, Haven's stomach churning with nausea at an unnatural feeling lingered in the air.

"Look here lad!" The mans voice growled, "I don't know how you got off the groun-"

"I'm not a boy!" Haven bit harshly, thrusting the wand threateningly towards the stranger this time it's tip giving no effect.

She came off fearless for her being. She had to. She had no other choice but to stand strong with her voice held stiff and dominating, for she felt confident in her violent abilities and what she believed would be a lacking of in her assailant. Her other hand slipped behind her back and her fingers wrapped around the handle of her trusty pocket knife, a weapon she always carried. She would take a quick punch or kick, but if he had plans of going further, she was sure to fight back with her silver blade.

The man's voice stalled his next words, faulting on how to properly respond.

"Why aren't you on school grounds?!" He demanded with an authoritative voice after a moment.

Haven furrowed her brow in confusion and after a moment the man peered at her just the same. A small tingle erupted behind Havens eyes that she at once rubbed at and tried to blink away. It wasn't until she took control of her attention and with a strong connection, created imagery of locking doors. Seeing the mans eyes flicker away, almost meditatively after the tension suddenly dropped and she was left feeling open and insecure for reasons she didn't fully understand.

"How old are you?" his voice was quiet and graveled like stone as his neck turned to check the space on either side of them and above them.

Her voice held caution as she pushed out her strength quickly, "Thirteen." she answered confidently.

She took a step back as his black eyes flickered to her and looked her up and down, "and, I am not your teacher?"

Her head shook no and she watched the man take another step closer.

"And, you are not a student?"

She shakes her head again and takes a cautionary step back, her palm warming under the wand once again.

As if the man noticed her growing anxiety, he stopped his steps and opened his hands at his sides for her view, giving a sign of submission before addressing her again.

"Do that again."

When she didn't respond, with a slice of irritability he elaborated further.

"What you did with that towards me, do it again."

A moment of silence passed again before her grip began to loosen and the tip of the wand tilted downwards as a shoulder was shrugged.

With an orchestrated move he stepped out of the way of the wand, exposing a stacking of boxes behind him while maintaining his distance,

"Try."

His voice was said from under his breath as his long finger pointed to the stack of boxs and she nodded weakly. Taking a deep breathing, she focused up all her attention and felt the pulse of the wand's warmth tingle her hand again. Her eyes rest and focused ahead on the box that lay down the line of the wand and with a sharp flick, a red light shot from the tip and the box exploded sending cardboard pieces falling everywhere. Dropping the wand and stumbling back in shock, she trips in her panic over another pile of shipping boxes and falls roughly to the tarmac.

Quickly she crawled back as she watched his steps approach, leaving the the wand on the ground and instead extending a hand towards her as he glanced at the ally end over her. She ignored him and pulled herself up on own and as she did her hood fell back exposing her unevenly cut black, spiky hair.

"Where are your parents?" He asked her cautiously, taking in her clothing and grungy appearance.

"Gone."

She tried to ignore the itch that slid under her skull and thought of herself closing a castle door that would force it to stop. To her surprise, along with the feeling of sadness at her admittance, so was locked away the tingling.

"What is your name?" He asked sternly, glaring away with a stone awkwardness she could feel radiating off him.

"Haven."

He gave a disbelieving glance but said nothing and instead with a deep breath in, straightened up his posture and looked around the quiet alley before continuing.

"I think you should come with me." He said, sounding unsure of his own words.

"But -"

With a snap of his fingers his wand flew off the ground and pulled directly into his palm and closing fingers. Nodding, his eyes never breaking from her, he placed himself beside her, his black eyes shining dead and void like while a slight urgency sat hidden in his features. He looked away and pointed his direction and wand to a similar box and with a flick of the wrist, the box lifted quietly from the ground and floated over before setting gently down before them.

She stared at the box, then at the man who silently nodded.

…

"So, what's your name anyway?" Haven asked, stopping next to the man who stood before the end of the ally, watching the people pass by without a notice.

She looked up curiously as the man took a slow breath.

"Severus. My name is Severus Snape." He said in a slow sigh.

"You have a funny name," she smirked.

"Thank you." His voice grumbled.

Without a minute more to stall, his hand tightened behind her neck and he guided the young girl out into the hurry of people.