Title: Blue October, Volume One, Chapter Six.
Author: Woodland Goddess.
Rated: M
Author's Note: Again, this chapter has ADULT themes in it. RIP to those poor people in Connecticut and China who were shot and stabbed today. :'(
Chapter Six: Unpleasant Encounters
Though Severus made a habit of visiting the playground after his daily studying at the Pharmacy, he did not chance upon a sighting of Lily Evans again. The thought that the gang of cruel children might have caught up with her and hurt her some more left him with a heavy feeling in his abdomen and he felt it was almost his duty to find her again, to ask her if she was alright. Going home in the evenings made him feel guilty, especially when he looked at his mother, but he told himself that it was not an act of defiance, since friendship was not on the table at the moment.
He tried not to think about his brief sighting of Lily too often, but it was rather difficult. Remembering the incident left him quite breathless, knowing that even though it had been seven against one, she had put up a fight where possible. She was like a lioness, sleek and beautiful and apparently clever. Part of him wished he could be like her...but the rest of him just wanted the chance to be a friend to her. He wanted to offer an olive branch, to be the person who showed her an act of kindness.
Severus knew very well that people often remembered kindness as clearly as they remembered the cruelty shown to them. While his personality left much to be desired, he did have the capacity for kindness, even if he kept that knowledge to himself more often than not. With a sigh, the boy shook his head in an effort to clear his muddled thoughts and refocused upon the writing exercise Mr Evans had given; a page-long essay about the Second World War. While he did not find Muggle History that interesting, he was amused by the notion that the Second World War had such close links with the Wizarding World.
The Muggles had no idea that Adolf Hitler had not shot himself to avoid execution for war crimes, but because upon the defeat of Gellert Grindelwald in nineteen-forty-five the Imperius Curse that had been in place had lifted. When faced with the crushing reality and horror of what he had done while under the control of another, Hitler had taken his own life. Being inherently weak-minded, the man had been an easy target for Grindelwald in the thirties, before the war had truly begun.
Of course, Severus could never mention any of that in his essay, nor could he speak of it to Mr Evans. It would be a horrible breach of the Statute of Secrecy and might land his family with a heavy fine, which he knew they would never be able to afford to pay. Thus it was with mild irritation that Severus wrote about the more boring aspects of the war – the aspects that were entirely Muggle-related. The backroom of the Pharmacy was silent, but for the scratch of his pencil against the paper of a notebook.
As soon as he was finished the essay, he moved onto his next assignment; a study of the different types of rocks and soils. This was an even duller avenue for study than the Second World War had been, but he forced himself to concentrate on it. He did not want to disappoint Mr Evans, who constantly spoke of how learned Severus would be in years to come. It put a great weight upon Severus' shoulders, but he was grateful for that. He had something to drive him onwards, something to prove to not only his family, but everyone.
He took small breaks after every hour and a half that passed, in order to stretch out the muscles in his legs and give his mind a break from all the study. During these breaks, he would pace around the backroom, eyeing all the different medicines available at the Pharmacy until he was ready to continue learning. Depending on what his assignments were, he could be either bored stiff while learning or he could be entirely engaged in the task, interested in ways that he could never explain.
But Severus supposed he was just the same as any other child in that matter, as much as he wished that were different. He did not like being the same as other children; he would prefer to be similar, but unique in his own way. He wondered if that would come when he would go to school at the age of eleven. There was bound to be a large amount of diversity between students, what with four houses and so many unique subjects that could be studied within the distinguished halls of Hogwarts.
Severus knew he would find out one day, but that day seemed so far away to him. He was not going to hold his breath, just in case he did not receive his Hogwarts letter the year he would turn eleven – or if he did receive it but his father declined the acceptance on his behalf. That was too painful a scenario for young Severus to bear, his mind flinching away from the thought almost as soon as it had formed in his head. He could not imagine living through a future where he did not escape to Hogwarts, did not escape his father.
It was approaching the closing time of the Pharmacy when Severus was finally finished all of his studies for that day. He was glad; his brain was almost completely fried from the amount of study he had done. Tidying up his books and pencils, he took his current notebook and headed towards the front of the Pharmacy, where he knew Mr Evans would be closing up soon. He wanted to give the man his essay before he left; Mr Evans liked to read through them and correct them for mistakes, regarding content, grammar and spelling.
He reached for the handle of the door leading out of the backroom, but even as he did so it opened from the other side. Someone with a mop of blonde hair came barrelling through the door, not looking where they were going as they called over their shoulder. "I'll be right out with the sweeping brush, Dad!" Before Severus had a chance to say or do anything, the girl – for it clearly was a girl – collided with him roughly. The force of it sent them both sprawling backwards, lying spread-eagled on the floor.
Severus let out a low groan of pain. The back of his head was throbbing somewhat painfully and stars were dancing in front of his eyes. It seemed something similar had happened to the girl, for she was remaining on the ground as well, whimpering in pain. By the time Severus started struggling to pick himself up off the floor, even though the world was spinning horribly, Mr Evans had made his way over, concern evident in his eyes and on his face. The girl who had knocked into him was now pulling herself up from the ground as well.
"What in the blazes was that?" she demanded, clutching the back of her head with her hand. The girl could not have been much older than nine, with a thick head of blonde hair – much like Mr Evans' – and brown eyes, which narrowed coldly when her gaze fell upon Severus. "Who are you?! What are you doing in the backroom?! Don't you ever watch where you're going?!" The questions came faster than Severus could understand them; his head was so out of the loop of reality at that moment.
Mr Evans was, at this point in time, helping the blonde girl to her feet. With gentle hands, he dusted off the back of her dress, before resting them lightly upon her shoulders. The girl's dress was a crisp cotton shift with a ruffled front and a white collar and cuffs. The shift had a floral pattern; dozes of tiny flowers covered the deep blue fabric. Her long slender legs were clad in white stocks that stopped just beneath her knees and she had black shoes upon her feet. "Give him a moment to get his head in order, Tuney," Mr Evans said, squeezing the girl's shoulders warmly.
"Snape," Severus finally managed to answer when his head cleared a little. Pushing a lock of hair back behind his ear, he continued more confidently. "Severus Snape and I'm here on Mr Evans' orders and for your information, it was not I who wasn't watching where I was going. Next time, when you open a door, check to see what's in front of you, you silly girl."
"How was I to know some straggly gutter rat had invaded my Dad's Pharmacy?" The girl, Tuney, asked of him. While she looked more like her father than Lily did, the older girl had not inherited his kind disposition. She was clearly indignant, judging by the curl of her mouth and the knitting of her eyebrows, but the disgust in her voice was also rather evident. Severus' cheeks flushed with colour at the slight, his dark eyes narrowing hatefully. It was not his fault his family was not as well off as that of Mr Evans.
A vein pulsed in Severus' forehead and his hands curled into fists at his sides. He opened his mouth to make a retort against her cruel question, but stopped, jumping backwards in surprise when a container full of tablets flew off one of the shelves and hit Tuney in the face. Tuney let out a yell of pain and shock, her hands rising to cover her eye and nose. Mr Evans, quite surprised himself, looked from the shelf where the container of medicine had come from, some distance away, to Severus.
Mr Evans eyed him contemplatively, but Severus could not tell if he was angry or not. "That brat made that thing hit me!" Tuney said, her voice raising in pitch the more words she voiced. She lowered her hands and glared at him through a red and puffy eye, water streaming down her pink-hued cheek. Severus ducked his head, his dark falling forward to frame his face as his cheeks coloured with shame. He knew that it was his fault the girl had been hurt, but underage Witches and Wizards often had trouble controlling their magic when they were emotionally unstable.
"It was an accident," Mr Evans said slowly, though his tone was quite serious. "Severus didn't touch it." This caused Severus to look up in surprise. Mr Evans was still gazing at him, something indecipherable burning in his emerald eyes. Severus did not know whether it made him feel happy or nervous; both feelings were so similar for him, especially when they caused butterflies to flutter about in his abdomen.
"It wasn't an accident, Dad," Tuney bit out, grinding her teeth together as her lips curled with the power of her righteous anger. She looked like an enraged dog, pulling at its chain to try to get at a cat that had scratched her. She turned towards her father, her hands on her hips. "He made it fly across the room, just like Lily did with her copy of The Hobbit a few months ago! How else did the blasted thing manage to move so far away from the shelf?! I'm not a fool; don't treat me like one!"
"Tuney," Mr Evans said warningly, glancing at Severus as if he were afraid he might cause something else to move. Severus bit the inside of his cheek and glanced off to the side, shoving his hands inside the pockets of his exceedingly worn trousers. "Severus, your notebook is on the floor behind you; pick it up, please." It was a not-so subtle change of subjects, which quite clearly infuriated Tuney to the point where she stormed out of the backroom, her original purpose forgotten, and filled Severus with boundless relief.
Severus picked up the notebook and held it out to Mr Evans, keeping his eyes on the floor as he did so. Mr Evans took it without another word and turned away, heading after his daughter. Severus, his cheeks still tinged with a blush of shame, left the backroom. He crossed the Pharmacy quickly, disappearing out the door before Tuney, Mr Evans or Young could say anything to him. With his head down and his hands in his pockets, he took his time walking home, knowing very well there would be an envelope arriving at his home soon, sent by the Ministry.
Whenever Witches and Wizards, who had never attended Hogwarts, used Magic in public – even by accident – the Ministry would always send a letter. In the letter, they ask the parents to keep a closer eye on their charges...as well as a firmer hand. Severus knew that he was only delaying the inevitable by taking his time, but he could not find it in him to hurry home, knowing he was in for a good scolding from his mother and a harsh clout from his father. More than a clout, in fact.
Tobias Snape considered the use of Magic a sin; one of the most condemning sins imaginable, in his eyes. What Severus had done, even though it had been unintentional, would be worth forty lashes of his belt, at least. He was, of course, reluctant to suffer through so many lashes of Tobias' belt for something as trivial as an accidental usage of a Summoning and Banishing Charm, but he knew that he would have to, eventually. He could not avoid going home indefinitely; he would not survive the entire night if he stayed away.
At least, if he went home and faced Tobias' belt, he could be assured that he would make it to tomorrow. He wanted to make it to tomorrow's lessons in the backroom. Mr Evans was going to bring him another book in the morning, so that he could expand his vocabulary again. He always loved reading the fiction books that Mr Evans supplied for him. They took him to places in his head, taught him things that would take years to learn if they were not wrapped up in a pleasant tale for children to read.
Severus shook his head and sighed, the weight of the world seeming to settle upon his shoulders. Thinking of all the different kinds of books he could read in the future, he picked up his pace, heading home with more haste. The sooner he received his lashings, the sooner it would be over and he would be allowed to heal. They would scar, of course; the lash marks were the one thing that Tobias did not allow Eileen to heal with her Potions and Charms. They would always be there to remind him of his transgressions.
Just like the scars within his mind.
When Severus arrived home, he knew immediately that his parents were waiting for him. Eileen was standing just inside the front door, arms folded across her chest, her stirring rod resting against her shoulder. It was clear that the arrival of the Ministerial letter had put a stop to her brewing for the day. Tobias was some distance behind her, letter clenched in his fist. Severus swallowed thickly and ducked his head, his hair falling forward to cast his face in shadow. He could not bear to see the look of disappointment in his mother's eyes.
He normally had a large amount of control over his magic. Eileen had spent the last two years teaching him how to control his emotions so that they would not get the better of him, but this time...this time the words Tuney that had spat at him had been too hard for Severus to bear with any measure of calm. As soon as he had crossed the threshold, Eileen took his arm in a firm grasp and led him upstairs to his bedroom, where in a stern voice she scolded him for forgetting everything she had taught him about controlling his magic by controlling his emotions.
He kept his head down the entire time and he knew, just by looking at him, that he really did regret his loss of control. Afterwards, Eileen hugged him tightly, resting her head against his, before leaving his bedroom with a miserable expression. She knew, just as he did, that there would be no stopping Tobias, no matter how repentant Severus was for what had happened at the Pharmacy. Staying in the room with him would only make Severus feel worse when Tobias eventually got down to business.
When Tobias arrived in the room, belt already in hand, Severus had to squash his fears, hatred and many other emotions. Instead, Severus started taking off his jacket and shirt. He turned around and braced himself against the wardrobe. Fixating his dark gaze upon the floor, Severus waited for the punishment to begin and when it did he squeezed his eyes shut, clenched his jaw and dug his fingers into the wood. He had no doubt that the wooden surface would be covered in scratches and gouges from the reflexive action of gripping and releasing with every lash of the belt upon his back.
Severus tried to keep count, but the increasing agony that came with each lash drove the notion of counting out of his mind. All he could think of was the burning pain running down the length of his back and the warm flood of blood down his skin, seeping into the fabric of his trousers and his underpants. When Tobias finally finished with him, he left Severus to crumble in a heap on the floor, gripping the wardrobe as if letting would surely mean his death. Severus rested his forehead against the cool wood and let out the smallest prayer, though he had never had much store in praying.
He prayed that one day, in the future, he could escape this place, this torment...
To Be Continued.