Author's Note: This story is based off of events and conversations as found throughout the Harry Potter series as written by J.K. Rowling. Most of this work will contain original prose and dialogue, but references will be made in specific chapters where Rowling's exact words are used. This is written purely for recreational purposes; I do not own any rights to Harry Potter or affiliations of Bloomsbury Publishing.

And this is all she wrote. Hah. There's still a good twenty-five chapters to go, but they're all fragmented and unfinished at this point. Updating from hereon in will be irregular and monthly at best. In the meantime, why not REVIEW. K thx

Chapter Seven: Tobias and the Prince

The year came and went so quickly, Severus wondered whether or not it had been a dream. The things he was sure would happen that year did not. He never did become friends with his roommates, only cordial acquaintances; he never did learn how to cast spells without making a sound; and he never did get James or Sirius back, even though he had designed several strategies to ambush them—what spells to use, where, from what angle. However, as unsuccessful as Severus was, his two rivals were equally at failure—not one more prank was pulled on the young Slytherin. Severus noticed the boys became friends with the perpetually sick boy he had met in the infirmary on his first day, but he never attributed their lack of attacks with that boy's friendship.

One of the more disappointing outcomes of the end of the year was the resignation of Severus's favourite instructor. Yevgeniy Utkin had to regretfully resign when his Ministry called him out of retirement; there was a resurgence in the underground wizarding world of the U.S.S.R.—Severus wondered if it had to do with the war Utkin had mentioned once—and therefore the old Wizard Hunter's services were needed.

His farewell with Severus had left something to be desired, but for Severus, that was as successful as most of his social interactions tended to be. Before he left the castle to head to Hogwarts Station, he poked his head into Utkin's office.

"Uh..." He cleared his throat. "Professor?"

"Vh... yew?" The old man spun around—it looked like he had aged ten years—and glowered at Severus like never before. "Vhat? More lessons?"

"No," Severus said, remaining concealed by half the door as he stared at his shoes. "Um... thanks. Sir. For the lessons."

"Vah!" He waved his good hand around. He went back to his pack, shifting around things needlessly with his wooden arm while picking at other trinkets on his desk. Severus stood there for a good thirty seconds, trying to find the right words to say. "Bye" just didn't seem satisfactory enough. When Utkin continued to ignore him and pack his trunk, seemingly uninterested in any sort of expression of gratitude, Severus simply turned and walked away.

The train ride home was sad, though Severus would never admit it in a thousand years. After reluctantly changing back into his Muggle clothes, he sat with Lily in a compartment shared by the perpetually grinning boy he had sat with last September. There seemed to be little change in his demeanour since then. The two friends were chatty, going over their final tests again and comparing answers. For some reason Severus felt desperate and anxious, as if he wouldn't see Lily again all summer. While at Hogwarts, it was as if he had forgotten they had been friends for a whole year before coming to the school; they lived close to each other, and visited one another often. He would see her over the summer. But she would be seeing him as Severus Snape, the boy living in Spinner's End—unkempt, uncared for, and generally unimpressive. Only two months, he told himself, then they would be back at Hogwarts, and he could be Severus Snape the wizard again.

At King's Cross Station, the two friends stepped off the train to find a sea of parents and families awaiting the return of their loved ones. Lily bounded off across the platform almost as soon as she stepped on it, hurtling herself toward her parents. Severus hung back and watched.

Marigold Evans stooped and swept her daughter up in a hug. Her hair had grown longer, and she had it tied back in a loose ponytail. John Evans, on the other hand, looked like he had lived ten years in the past one; his already aged and haggard appearance had become more wearisome, his skin sagging off his face and the grey speckle at his temples spreading to the entire lower half of his hair. He smiled weakly down at his daughter, looking more tired than a one-hundred year-old man. Lily hugged him around the waist, too.

Severus looked around the platform for his mother. She usually wore a black Muggle dress and hat, her thin, sleek hair tousled about her shoulders. But he couldn't find her.

As families began to disperse and wander off the platform back to Platforms 9 and 10, he hoped to catch a glimpse of her, but to no avail. Maybe she was running late, and was on her way to the station. He would wait for her to come back.

"Severus!" Lily called, rushing back to him. "Severus... where's your mum?"

He shrugged, avoiding her eyes. "I don't think she's here yet."

"Oh." She remained where she stood, looking back at her parents. "Do you want to come with us? I'm sure my dad would give you a ride."

"No."

"Okay. Um... well... see you at the glade, then? Tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sure."

She gave another one of her sad smiles. "Bye, Severus."

"Bye."

She turned and fled, her dark red hair flying like a banner behind her. Severus collected his trunk and sat on it, watching as the Evanses left the platform through the barrier. Soon everyone had left the platform but Severus. After an hour, the conductor approached him.

"Do you have someone coming for you?" he asked gently. He was a portly man, and looked almost like a large green pepper in his robes. Severus shrugged.

"Someone should be coming for me," he said.

"Well... I'll stay with you for half an hour, but then I have to take the engine back into the train yard, and then I have to close down the platform."

Severus looked down at his shoes. The conductor went about his business, along with some other wizards buzzing about the platform, tending to the upkeep and small repairs. Half an hour had come and gone, and the conductor escorted Severus to the barrier. "Sorry, son... I'll have a Muggle car arrive for you, if you want."

Severus was about to decline when he subtly nodded his head. The conductor slowly walked through the barrier with him and marched him to the ticket booth. He asked the vendor if she could summon a driver for the young man. She regarded the wizard like he was some escaped lunatic (which he probably appeared to be in his vibrant green robes and hat) and dialled the operator, who in turn sent a cabby. Severus sat on his trunk outside the station's entrance, his head in his hands, torn between being glum and put out. When the cab arrived, he helped Severus stuff his trunk into the back, then drove him home to Spinner's End.

Night was settling when Severus arrived home. It was when the driver pulled up before the Snapes' front door did Severus realize he had no more Muggle money on him. "I have to get my money from inside, sorry," he said quickly, then shot out of the cab and bolted up to the door. When he tried the handle, it was locked. He knocked and knocked and knocked, intent on wracking his mother with guilt—

The door opened, and Tobias Snape stood there, looking down at his son as if he was regarding a spoiled dinner.

Severus froze into place, not daring to move or speak. But slowly his shock and timidness washed away and a frown took form on his face. "Where's my mum?" he asked sharply.

"Severus?" he heard her call. She suddenly came into view from the kitchen. Her face fell and her jaw dropped.

"I need to pay the cab driver," he said, pointing his thumb over his shoulder and filling her silence. Both his parents glanced at the cab. Tobias grunted and stepped forward, pulling out his wallet from his back pocket and fishing out a few notes. Eileen stepped forward and stood in front of her son. She held out her hands as if to clutch his shoulders, but let her hands hover a foot away from him. The boy averted his eyes and turned his body away from her.

"What is he doing here?" he asked in a low voice. She didn't answer.

Tobias stopped behind Severus, who was blocking the doorway. He held son's trunk in his hands. "Well," said Tobias gruffly, motioning through the door. Severus stepped inside.

The house was in a bit of disarray since he had last been there. There was an underlying smell of a general lack of care; there were assorted piles of papers and other odd objects piled here and there; thick layers of dust covered almost everything. Serene smells wafted from the kitchen, however—no longer was his mother cooking rice in the kitchen; he could smell tomato sauce and hear boiling water.

He turned to regard his mother, prepared to fix her with a guilt-inducing glare, but his face fell at the sight of her. Under the light, she looked dead and waxen; her dull red hair was even plainer, and permanent bags had formed under her eyes. She looked like the most tired woman in the world, especially when she regarded Severus with an expression akin to horror. His father hadn't changed much in the past year, and still looked at Severus the same emotionally vacant way he usually did. His black hair had grown shaggier and his beard had grown wild and tangled. He had a feral look in his eye that suggested he had been living in the country with the animals ever since he abandoned his wife and child. Severus dared to narrow his eyes at him.

"That's how you greet your father?" he huffed, grabbing Severus by the scruff on his neck and tugging him forward into the house. "Go put your things away. Dinner's almost on the table."

Severus stooped to pick up his trunk and laboriously hauled it up the stairs to his room. When he got there, he kicked the door open, sending it flying into the wall. It nearly bounced back and hit him in the face, but he stopped it with his foot and dragged his things to the foot of his bed. He then fought the urge to slam the door shut and closed it gently instead, roaring silently to himself and throwing his fists through the air. Tobias Snape was supposed to be gone from his life forever. He knew his mother was pining after the man, but despite her sadness, Severus had been so glad when his father had walked out of his life. And suddenly he was back, as if everything were supposed to be normal that way.

Severus slowly sunk down on top of his trunk and ran his hands through his hair angrily. He didn't want that stupid git of a father in his life any more than he wanted to spend two months alone with Sirius and James on an isolated island. The entire summer would be a prison sentence, and he would not be able to escape, with or without Lily just a few blocks away.

How he had pretended like Severus was intruding! They had forgotten him at the station, the day everyone knew the students of Hogwarts were to return home, and neither of them even muttered an apology for it! It took a tremendous amount of willpower not to kick the door in front of him in anger. If he displayed any signs of aggression, his father would certainly take the challenge and show far more aggression back. Now that Severus was twelve, practically a young man, he felt a strong desire to pick a fight with his father, but the small voice of reason was still loud enough to convince Severus that doing so would be a very bad idea. So he would collect himself, go down to dinner, and grudgingly pretend like nothing was wrong. He would have to for the entire summer, if he was to survive.

As he walked down the steps, he heard his mother setting the table. The smell of pasta and sauce filled his nostrils, and it would have been welcoming and enticing, had his nerves not been so on edge. In the kitchen, his father was waiting impatiently at the table, tapping his foot and staring at the back of Eileen's head as she tipped the pot of pasta into a serving bowl. The tension in the room was so taught that it could have snapped at any second. Severus grudgingly sat down at his spot at the table, keeping his eyes pointed at the scratch shaped like teeth marks on the opposite side of Tobias. That was his focus point whenever he needed to divert his concentration elsewhere.

Eileen set plates in front of the two and went to retrieve her own. Because she had only been expecting cooking for two, each person's portions were smaller than they would have been. As his mother sat down, she reached for Severus's hand and squeezed. He pulled it away deftly.

They ate silently for the most part. Just before dinner was finished, Tobias cleared his throat. "Gonna have you help clean this place up," he muttered. "A little unkempt around here."

Severus remained silent. He was surprised that his father did not force a "Yes, sir" out of him. Severus decided the smart first move would be to wash the dishes, so once he was done he waited for his parents, then collected their plates. Tobias left the table and climbed up the stairs to his and his wife's bedroom. Severus filled the sink with water and started to dip in the plates with the soap. His mother stepped up behind him, grabbed his shoulders. "Severus," she whispered ever so quietly.

The boy shrugged his mother's hands off his shoulders and grabbed the dish rag. "Just slipped your mind?" he snapped. She did not reply. After a few minutes of standing quietly behind him while he washed off the dishes, she stepped next to him and grabbed a towel to dry.

"I don't want your help," he informed her stonily.

She hesitated in putting the towel back in the drawer before turning and leaving Severus to his task. He had to do this, only him. No one could help him.

In the morning, his plan had fallen to pieces. It wasn't in his nature to take things passively; his father had goaded him with insults far too many times than he could tolerate. But the final straw had been the slight against his mother—he hated how she just took it from that good for nothing Muggle, and he was angry at the both of them for being so...

He had come down stairs for breakfast—toast and fruit—and the moment he sat down, Tobias's resentment started to spill over.

"Know what you did to my head? Hm? Last year?"

Severus stared resolutely at his plate and said nothing.

"Cracked my head open. Had to go to the hospital for the night. Suffered a concussion."

"I didn't do that. The bookcase fell."

"Don't think I don't know about your types," he retorted. "You folk can make anything you want happen. Bunch of freaks."

Eileen was quietly dishing out her own breakfast. As she sat down, Tobias grabbed her by the arm and shook her, shaking her toast off the plate and onto the table. "And I suppose he wasn't at Smeltings School for Boys all year, was he?"

Eileen said nothing, but met her husband with wide, horror-struck eyes. "That's where I was, yeah," Severus lied for her as he tore the crust off his toast with vigour. "Too bad you didn't remember to pick me up."

"Spiteful brat, aren't you?" Tobias grumbled, snatching up the marmalade and spreading it over his own toast. Eileen silently slipped her own serving back on her plate and waited complacently to dress her toast. "The first thing you need to learn about life is that it's unfair," Tobias continued. "The second thing: it's not all about you."

"'S not about you, either," Severus hissed under his breath.

Tobias had put his buttering knife down on his plate with a clank and clatter, and so Severus's reproach was drowned out. Instead, Tobias picked up the conversation where he had started it. "I won't have you learning your mother's... trade," Tobias said. "It's already proven dangerous for normal people like me."

Of course it would be—I want to KILL people like you.

"You know, maybe I've not been a big part in raising you right," Tobias ventured, stuffing half of his toast into his mouth and chewing it enthusiastically. "Be more of a father figure to you. What did they teach you at Smeltings?"

Severus hesitated for only a second. "How to defend myself."

Tobias seemed to approve of this answer; he straightened and nodded, his entire air changing from irascible to impressed. "Good lesson in life to learn."

Severus shrugged. He hated to find himself eager for this man's approval; the moment Tobias seemed to accept him, Severus felt a surge of pride. Not from this Muggle, Severus told himself. I hate him, I hate him I HATE HIM!

The rest of breakfast passed in silence. Eileen sat and waited until Tobias was finished with his plate before standing and collecting the dishes. Tobias pulled his plate back. "Let him do it," he said crossly, motioning to his son.

However soft and quiet her voice was, Severus was surprised to hear her retort with: "He did them last night."

"And he'll do them today, and tomorrow, and the next day," his father shot back. "Now put them down, witch!"

A ravenous beast flared in anger inside Severus and he jumped up to his feet before he even knew what he was doing. Eileen's face was shrouded in fear; Tobias's, in anger.

"And what the bloody hell do you have to say about it then, eh?" The large man got to his own feet and stared him down. Severus was quickly losing an internal battle; the vow to keep silent and complacent all summer was quickly dissolving as he glowered up at the good for nothing Muggle intruding in his life.

"Witch... isn't a very nice thing to call someone," Severus said, immediately thinking of Lily. He imagined her standing in the corner—and if Lily was in the room, he couldn't be weak. If he couldn't lay dormant at his father's feet all summer, he had to at least always be strong in front of her.

"None of your bleedin' business, boy," Tobias snorted. "You know what this woman did to me? Ended my career, she did. Some sports fanatic gets herself pregnant and pins the bastard on me. Forced me to marry her—though some ceremony it was, just some old bloke shooting sparks in the air, bunch of toss pots in costume—and then tried to get me to move to some fantasy land town, claimin' she was magic. So you know what, Severus? Witch is a fairly appropriate name for her, given she claimed she was one."

"You—"

"I'm not finished!" Tobias thundered, slamming his fist on the table and making the saltshakers jump. Eileen flinched and covered her mouth with a hand. "Then you came along. Gives you come toss pot name from your toss pot heritage, then tries to raise you the—what was it called?—the wizarding way. I told her if she wanted a father for her runt, she would raise you my way. Took enough of my life away from me as is. But even if she did send you off to Smelting's like I said you ought to, even after I was gone, I don't see a spec of myself in you, you little bastard. Black hair's all we got between us. She's been secretly raising you like the freak you are, and my word's not been respected once in all your pathetic years.

"I'm a tolerant man, but I won't have an ungrateful family sucking my life money dry like the parasites you are. Either you show some respect—both of you—or there won't be any more second chances."

Severus was so furious he could hardly speak; his fingernails dug so deep within his palm that he could feel blood seeping under them. There were thousands of retorts he wanted to say, so many things he could have done to put this stupid, filthy Muggle in his place. His imagined Lily still stood in the corner, wide-eyed and cowering, waiting for Severus to set things straight and show off his bravery. But his jaw locked in place, and all he could do was glower up at the balding idiot who reluctantly named himself Severus's father.

And then the words came from him before he could stop them. Quiet, soft, yet full of compassion and abhorrence. "I never wanted you here."

Tobias blinked and cocked his head to the side, placing a hand to his ear. Eileen whimpered, a choked sound, which made Severus's guts twist and turn. "Sorry, might want to repeat that—don't think I caught you," Tobias said tonelessly. By the way he said it, Severus knew the man had already decided his son would suffer dearly for those words.

So he held his tongue and stood his ground. In his mind's eye, Lily became more fearful and begged him to take it back, and her pleading helped him stay still, though his courage had long fled. He felt more powerful.

But he no longer felt powerful the moment his mother screamed. He had never heard such a sound in his life; it made his heart drop through the floor and his bowels quiver. He hadn't noticed his father was upon him until he was thrown to the floor.

The first punch stung for only a moment, and then he could no longer feel his cheek. He felt the force of his father's strikes, but only because of how his head swung like deadweight on his neck. His mother's scream seemed far off, now—all he could hear was his own breathing and his father's grunts as he smacked him.

Lily had long since disappeared from the corner.

Severus was not aware of when the strikes stopped; everything he heard and saw seemed to be coming from a long tunnel, and when he swivelled his head around (which felt like a melon on a toothpick), he saw Tobias slowly crawling along the floor, out of the kitchen and into the front hall. Eileen was standing by the table, her hands over her face, her eyes as wide and fearful as he had ever seen them. A wand was on the floor between them.

She said something and reached out to touch her husband. The way the man flinched and scampered away from her made Severus more scared than he had been all morning. As he started to fall asleep (I just woke up, how am I tired? he thought distantly), he saw his father cower—cower—in Eileen's presence. He shouted something in a pleading manner, but Severus never caught what it was.

He had been staring at Eileen for a good thirty seconds before he realized he was awake. She was dabbing his face with cotton balls, deliberately avoiding his gaze. It took a while for his memory to catch up to his thoughts. When he felt the sting just under his eye from the hydrogen peroxide, he remembered that Muggle's fist in his face, he remembered the numb sting on his cheek.

"Did he leave?" Severus asked groggily.

Eileen still did not meet his eyes. "No, he's here," she muttered.

"Why didn't he? You did—" he wheezed and took a second to catch his breath. "You did something to him, didn't you?"

"Severus." It was a warning. He did not heed it.

"He said you ended his career."

This time she looked at him, her trembling hand hovering over his eyebrow. Severus shrank at what he saw in her face: he had never seen her so angry.

When Severus was a boy, long before he met Lily, his mother had told him of her budding career as a Quidditch player. She told him all about the sport—first about the way it was played, the rules, famous players—then about strategies, tricks of the trade. She had been so good in her school years that she was offered a spot as a reserve in a national women's league in London. She moved to the city to be a part of the team.

Since the wizarding community was quite small in the city, Eileen spent time integrating into Muggle communities, trying to "fit in." Somewhere along the way, she met Tobias Snape, and was enamoured to the point of throwing away her career in order to be a wife and a mother. From the way she used to tell the story, Severus had guessed that at the time it had been a happy decision, but had soon soured and spoiled as the years went on.

But he had never heard that Muggle's story. Even though he could care less about the man, he had been undeniably interested in what was said. Ended my career. Forced me to marry her. Kid ruined everything.

"He was lying, right?" Severus said, filling up the silence and trying to assuage the woman's growing anger.

Instead of answering, she put the cotton balls aside and unstopped a vial of potion. Fitting a hand behind his head, she lifted Severus up and tipped it against his lips. He unquestioningly took a few sips before closing his mouth and letting it spill over his smock—he felt a weird tingling sensation on his tongue, which spread down his throat and up his head.

"Don'..."

When he woke again, he was in his room. It was quiet in the house. He sat up—felt too dizzy—fell back down. He stared at the ceiling, straining his ears to hear something. It hadn't been this quiet since that Muggle left last summer.

After his head cleared, he ventured downstairs. There was a heavy foreboding weighing heavily on his shoulders; he felt like he was entering dangerous territory, where someone who wanted to murder him was lurking. He probably felt that way because Tobias was in the sitting room, and the way he was crumpled in his chair made him look like a madman on the brink of committing blood lust.

Eileen was sitting quietly next to him, staring at her hands in her lap. When Severus stood at the threshold, she looked up at him blankly. Tobias squirmed—why was he sitting like that?

Severus stared between the two of them. No one spoke a word—until Tobias whimpered and squirmed under his son's gaze.

"Shhh," Eileen cooed, patting her husband's hand. It twitched as if he wanted to pull away but couldn't. Severus felt uneasy; deep down he realized he was horrified by what he was seeing, but he didn't feel scared on the surface. He knew his mother had done something to the Muggle. Years of her submitting to his abuse and then seeing her domineer over him like this was very unnerving.

"What's wrong with him?" Severus asked.

"Go to your room," was all she said.

For days they were all trapped in the house together; Eileen would not let Severus leave, and Tobias did not seem to have the volition to go. When his mother went to work, Severus spent the day in his room, avoiding the strange Muggle downstairs who would not leave his chair. When the phone rang, Severus let it go and never answered it. He spent his days reading out of his textbook, learning new hexes and putting them to heart. Learning spells was one of the few ways to keep his mind off of his prison.

Four days after the kitchen incident, someone knocked on the front door. "Don't answer it," Eileen had said. She did not even let Severus approach the door. The visitor stayed at the door for a good five minutes before giving up the ghost. After sitting together in maddening silence for the entire afternoon, Severus finally snapped on his mother.

"Tell me what's going on."

Eileen finished sipping at her tea before bringing a cup to her husband's lips. He shook like a leaf as she came near.

"Tell me what you did with that Muggle!"

"He's your father," she said coolly without even looking at her son. "You will call him as such."

Severus bent his brow and glowered. "I want to know what's going on."

Eileen continued to dote on Tobias, pointedly avoiding looking at her son. She then lifted up a note and handed it to Severus offhandedly. Grabbing for it, thinking it would delve into the situation, he was surprised to see Lily's handwriting under his fingers. He unfolded the letter and read it.

"It's from your friend, isn't it?" his mother asked dejectedly. It felt colder than it sounded.

"I was supposed to meet with her a few days ago. She was wondering where I was."

"She left it in the mailbox." She suddenly turned her eyes on her son; any glimmer of warmth that used to be there was conspicuously gone. "I want you to see her tomorrow and tell her not to come 'round here anymore."

"Why?"

"I don't want her coming here anymore, Severus, do I make myself clear?"

Severus tripped over his own tongue, his own anger, because he was not used to going head to head with his mother. "No, you don't!"

"Get out of my sight."

Severus moved his lips, but no sound came out. He was lost for words; his mother had never acted this way toward him. Tobias squirmed in his seat again as she swept away errant strands of hair from his forehead, but the man appeared not to be able to move any more than that. Severus stood there for a minute trying to find the right biting words to attack his mother with, but nothing came to him. He finally stormed off, stomped up the stairs, and closed his bedroom door. Then he opened it again and slammed it instead.

What his mother had told him, without saying a thing, is that that Muggle meant more to her than Severus did. Always had, always would. Because she was hopelessly in love with Tobias, and he shed less than favourable light on his son, Severus would be the blight on their relationship that Eileen would always try to cover up, subtly brush aside to please her husband. Even after how he treated her, she was broken when he was gone, and would always accept him with open arms. What she told Severus then was that he was just as unwanted as he had always felt.

Severus thought he knew his mother—sad but caring, weak but enduring. That woman downstairs wasn't capable of care, and apparently anything but weak, given that she was obviously putting that Muggle under a hex to keep him from leaving her again. Why would she want that Muggle so badly? She was so stupid! He tormented them for years, and when he walked out that door the first time, Severus felt free for the first time in his life. Now he felt more trapped than ever, and it was because of his mother.

He hated her, too. Just as much as him. They both didn't care about him, so he wouldn't care about them. Especially her. That witch...

He went downstairs after an hour of fuming, thinking of all the things he would have said, had he been given the chance to turn back time and tell his mother off proper. Now he was calm; he knew exactly what he wanted to say, and he knew he would get what he wanted from her.

As he stood before them, Severus clutched Lily's note tight in his pocket. Eileen didn't pay attention to him; she stared lovingly at her pet, crumpled up in the recliner.

"Teach me how to do it," Severus requested eagerly.