Title: Blue October, Volume One – Chapter Thirty-Five.
Author: Woodland Goddess.
Rated: M
Author's Notes: We're getting close to the end of Volume One, guys. *happy dance* Soon our young Slytherin will enter Hogwarts and face his destiny. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I loved writing it.
Chapter Thirty-Five: Happy Birthday, Son
January ninth came as it usually did; with cold chills. At first glance it seemed like any other day, but Severus knew better. It was the day he turned eleven, the day he finally became eligible for intuition at Hogwarts. Though he had expected to feel different – older, more mature perhaps – he took comfort in the quiet hum of excitement that danced in his veins and virtually made his Magic sing. As soon as he woke up, dark eyes glittering with something akin to happiness, Severus had a quick bath, scrubbing himself until he was pink and slightly sore all over; to be sure he was as clean as possible.
When he returned to his room he dressed in his best, a smug smirk tugging at his mouth. Once he was ready, Severus slipped his satchel over his shoulder and headed down the stairs, a spring in his step. Eileen was in the kitchen when he entered, calmly eating a bowl of porridge. She glanced up, spoon pausing on its journey to her mouth. A hint of a smile graced her face and the spoon disappeared into her mouth. "Good morning," he greeted, almost cheerfully, as he fetched a bowl for himself.
Armed with breakfast and a spoon, Severus crossed to the table, settling them down atop it. He hung his satchel on the back of the chair and seated himself. Eileen glanced at him, that hint of a smile deepening slightly. Taking a moment to smile at her in return, he tucked in to his breakfast. For once he did not make a face at the slight taste of preservation spells that lingered from the previous day. He was far too pleased to be bothered by such a trivial thing. "You seem happy," Eileen commented idly, dark eyes glittering like that of her son.
Severus would have responded had they not been interrupted by a sharp rapping against the window. Startled, the pair of them jumped in their seats, dark heads jerking upwards in the same moment, eyes seeking out the disturbance. A large barn owl sat on the sill outside the window. The noise that escaped the young Wizard was shrill but choked back from full intensity. He scrambled out of his chair and hastened across the room, opening the window with hands that trembled.
The owl hopped inside, bearing an envelope addressed specifically to him in emerald green ink. Heart leaping in to his throat and lodging there, Severus snatched the envelope from the owl's grasp without pausing to offer his thanks. Indignant, the owl ruffled its feathers and levelled its dark eyes on him. It watched as Severus fumbled in breaking the seal, accidentally ripping the envelope in the process. When he finally managed to free the letter from its lodgement, his lungs ceased functioning with an alarming suddenness.
Dear Mr Snape,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on 1st September. We await your owl by no later than 31st July.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress.
Severus' eyes stung viciously. His vision blurring, he lowered the letter and hung his head. Squeezing his eyes shut, he gave in to the brief urge to weep. Tears slipped from beneath his eyelashes and trailed wetly down his cheeks, disappearing from view when they reached his jaw. Eileen, having come up behind him, rested her hand upon his shoulder. Turning, he buried his face in his mother's abdomen. Her hand came to rest against the back of his head, fingers losing themselves in his hair.
If happiness was the stinging in his eyes, the frantic beating of his heart, the butterflies in his stomach and the inability to stop his hands from shaking, then Severus was a most willing victim of it. He clutched at Eileen's skirts with one hand in an attempt to hide the tremors. He did not need to look up to know she was smiling down at him, the melancholy receding for a time; he could feel it radiating from her in soft waves, washing over him. A few more tears slipped free as he basked in that sensation until he felt strong enough to pull away.
For years he had waited – prayed – for that letter and at last it had finally arrived. Severus ran his sleeve across his cheeks and straightened, holding his head high with the strength of his pride. He, Severus Snape, half-blood and gutter rat, would be going to Hogwarts, the forger of some of the greatest names in Wizarding history. He squashed the urge to do a jig and looked up at his mother, a smug smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. "We'd best send them a response, hadn't we, Mum?" A similar expression crossed Eileen's face as she nodded in confirmation.
Summoning parchment, a black feather quill and ink, Eileen settled herself once more at the kitchen table. Severus came to stand at her side, peering down at the stretch of parchment as she dipped the nib into the ink. His mother penned a response in a spidery script that was different to his own in small ways – the manner in which she dotted her Is and looped her Ts and swirled her Ss. The missive was short and to the point; Severus accepted his place at Hogwarts and was eager to begin his schooling.
A muttered charm had the ink drying. Eileen neatly rolled the parchment and brought it to the window where the owl waited still, dark eyes expectant as it watched her approach. It held its leg out and Eileen extended the missive towards it; talons encircled the parchment. With a hoot and a ruffle of feathers the creature took flight, the sound of flapping wings like music to Severus' ears. A smug expression settling on his face, he reclaimed his seat and continued eating his breakfast with an enthusiasm that had his mother gaping at him.
Once he was finished he washed his ware and offered to do the same for his mother. Eileen continued to stare at him, dark eyes alive with something he was unable to decipher. With only a brief explanation and a distracted wave, Severus eventually escaped the house, garbed in his winter coat and the green scarf Lily had knitted him, his Hogwarts letter nestled in his satchel alongside everything else he treasured enough to keep on his person at all times. Lily was already outside when he reached the Evans household.
The problem was that she was angrily chasing after a Pomeranian. "Give it back, you little thief!" Clad in her own winter coat, her cheeks flushed from the exertion, Lily ran circles around Severus. The Pomeranian had a tennis ball in its maw and its eyes sparkled madly, thrilled by the chase. Quick as lightning, Severus snatched the dog as it passed him, his hand buried in the fur at the back of its neck. The beast yipped, the ball dropping to the ground and bouncing away as it struggled in Severus' grasp.
He waited until Lily had fetched the ball before releasing the dog. The Pomeranian scarpered away and the young Wizard watched it go, smirking. Lily, her face a grimace of distaste, vigorously wiped the ball off her winter coat, removing all trace of slobber. "Can you believe that bloody dog is named after Her Former Majesty, Victoria?" Lily asked, glancing up with sharp green eyes. "That thing is a menace; she keeps grabbing my balls." Severus snorted loudly at that and Lily flushed. "Shut up, you."
"I didn't say anything."
"You were thinking it," the girl huffed. The faux-innocent expression that washed over Severus' face made her laugh. Lily swatted his arm and they shared a grin as they stood there, wrapped in the chilly morning light. A warm hand caught his, fingers interlocking; a thumb brushed against pale skin. His heart skipped a beat in his chest; Severus glanced downwards and back up, heat suffusing his cheeks. "Happy birthday, Severus." Her grin eased back in to a smile that was warm and soft. Green eyes sparkled prettily. Strands of crimson fire lifted in the wind, briefly passing in front of her face; it did not lessen the girl's loveliness in that moment. If anything, her beauty intensified.
Severus opened his mouth to thank her but Lily shook her head slowly, her hand tightening around his. "Come," she said quietly, secretively, "there's something I want to show you." His heart leapt upwards and lodged in his throat for no fathomable reason and he allowed her to lead him where she would. Lily led him towards the front door, which opened to reveal Petunia – clad in a dress that was prettier than he had expected. Brown eyes flickered with that same conspiracy that had entered Lily's voice.
Lily and Severus stepped inside, slipping past Petunia as they took off their coats, and the elder girl pressed the door shut gently. He was led in to the kitchen, the curtains of which had been closed initially, and froze. The young Wizard stood agape as Mr and Mrs Evans enthusiastically exclaimed, "Surprise!" Feeling light-headed all of a sudden, Severus allowed his gaze to take in the sight that met him. There was a banner strung from the ceiling, wishing him a happy birthday in bold green letters. Balloons, filled with helium, brushed against the ceiling in a lazy manner.
And there was cake – cake and sweeties and bottles of coke. There came a stinging in his eyes, a tightness in his throat. Severus trembled where he stood, his free hand curling in to a white-knuckled fist at his side. No one had ever done anything like this for him before; he was uncertain how to react. Mr Evans stepped forward, a smile on his face, happiness in his eyes for the first time since Christmas. "Happy birthday, son." The warm embrace that followed was more than he could bear.
Severus jerked away from the man, his chest heaving violently. This...all of it...was too much. "I believe this is the part where you smile and say, 'thank you,'" said Petunia dryly. A hesitant smile danced across her mouth, however. "Or you can start crying; that's always a good one."
"Shut up," the young Wizard snapped, feeling defensive. Petunia and her mother released identical sounds of indignation. Severus flushed scarlet immediately, muttering, "sorry."
Mouth pinched, the blonde replied, "it's not like I don't expect you to be rude, anyway." She sniffed haughtily.
"Petunia," Mr Evans chided, green gaze hardening for a moment. Petunia glared and folded her arms across her chest, turning her face away slightly. He turned back to look at Severus and his expression softened. Warm, reassuring hands came to rest on the boy's shoulders, squeezing gently. "It's alright, Severus; I understand. This is...a lot to take in." The smile returned, just as warm as before. A hand slipped upwards, ruffling his hair affectionately. Severus looked down at the floor between them, feeling betrayed by the emotions surging within him. "It's not every day a young man turns eleven, now, is it?"
Shaking his head, Severus looked up. "No," he agreed, a tentative smile gracing his mouth. "That reminds me..." He opened his satchel and retrieved his letter. "This came in the post today." The smile broadened in to self-satisfied grin as Mr Evans took it in hand, carefully unfolding the parchment. Green eyes flicked from left to right and back again as he read over the contents. The man's expression brightened immeasurably and, when he eventually looked up, the pride in his gaze was unmistakeable.
Lily went up on her tiptoes to peek over her father's arm. A squeal escaped her and Severus found himself being squashed as she threw her arms around him, hugging him with all of her strength. He patted her back until she released him, grinning at him. "It's real! It's really real!" Lily's expression quickly turned to dismay. "That has to be the best birthday present, ever; mine can't compare!" Mr Evans swatted the back of her head, sending strands of crimson hair flying about, entangling. "Ouch; what was that for?"
The scolding look Mr Evans graced her with made her fall silent and drop her gaze to the floor in contrition. "We're all very proud of you, Severus," said her father, pulling his attention away from Lily. Feeling awkward now that so much attention was focused on him, Severus shrugged uncomfortably and averted his gaze. Mr Evans folded the letter and returned it to him, allowing him to slip it back into his satchel. "Come along, then, young man; there's an important tradition we must attend to."
Mr Evans ushered Severus to the table, gently encouraging him to take a seat. The cake in front of him was butterscotch, coated in a layer of icing; eleven candles pierced it, waiting to be set alight. The man's wife approached, a box of matches in her hands. She struck one and expertly brought it to the wick of each candle, their fire casting a warm glow over the cake, their collective heat bathing Severus' face. He glanced at Mr Evans and noticed the camera he, now, held in his grasp.
The man directed Lily to stand in beside Severus, encouraged them both to smile and took a photograph. Mrs Evans took one when her husband moved to take Lily's place. A third was taken after Severus had blown out the candles and made his secret wish – that, no matter what happened in the future, they would always be together. The three of them smiled for the camera, their expressions genuinely pleased. Then, Lily's mother cut in to the cake, which was clearly home-made and dished it out. "Thank you," said Severus, his gratitude hardly more than an awkward mumble. Mrs Evans heard it regardless and gave him a dimpled smile in return.
Reaching for his slice, the young Wizard hesitated a moment before tasting of the cake. It was moist and smooth, the flavour bursting into life on his tongue; it was sweet, almost too sweet but oh, so perfect at the same time. His eyes drifted closed and a soft noise of appreciation escaped him, a smile curling his lips before he could stop it. He savoured the entire slice for as long as possible as the others seated themselves at the table. Mr Evans cracked open a few bottles of coke from the family pack, passing them around.
The morning passed with surprising cheer, with photographs and laughter, with smiles and embraces, with the opening of gifts Severus had not expected to receive. It was strange, getting the chance to be like the other children in Cokeworth, getting the chance to celebrate his birth in some meaningful way that somehow chased away the melancholy that usually lingered in his heart. Strange, yes; it was wonderful. He hoped it would never end, this feeling of contentment, of belonging, of family.
But all good things came to an end at one time or another. It was with a tight hug from Mr Evans and a kiss upon his cheek from Lily that the boy returned home, humming almost merrily, fiddling with his new yoyo – a gift from Petunia, who had looked faintly embarrassed as he thanked her – as he went on his way. His mother was brewing when he arrived. It did not surprise him; she was always brewing – it funnelled money in to the house...what little it earned, at any rate. Severus spared a moment to greet her and be greeted by her before slipping upstairs, his stomach sated and his soul floating.
I'm almost there, almost out of here, he thought as he shut his bedroom door gently. Severus set his satchel down on his bed and took off his winter coat, hanging it up inside his small wardrobe. A small smile graced his mouth as his fingers brushed against the fabric. The green scarf quickly followed it, looking quite at home amongst his possessions. Closing the wardrobe door, he returned to his bed and picked up his yoyo once more. He spent more than an hour playing with it, fascinated by the rhythmic rise and fall of it along the white string.
The sound of it whirring through the air and slapping back against his palm, which closed around it immediately, was pleasant – hypnotic, even. Somehow, though he was unable to explain it, Severus was more adept with the toy than Lily had been. The girl had thrown her hands in the air, her expression one of defeat, after only fifteen minutes of handling it. Mr Evans had hidden his amused grin behind a copy of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, which had clearly seen better days.
When he grew tired of playing with the yoyo, Severus set it aside and tugged his satchel towards him. He pulled out the gift from Mr Evans; a copy of Peter and Wendy by J M Barry. Curled up on his bed, book open in his hands, he began reading. He lost himself in the pages, the words dancing around in his mind's eye, written in a delicate script and golden ink that glimmered as they faded in and out of existence with every page that turned. Each turn of a page was a caress against his eardrums, each sentence a loving kiss laid against his mind, his imagination.
It was the written word in all its glory.
It was home...
To Be Continued
Aw, Sev, your first birthday party. Maybe the gathering was small, but it's the thought that counts, right? Quality over quantity, after all.
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