"Time decides who you meet in your life. Your heart decides who you want in your life. And your behaviour decides who will stay in your life."

Unknown

"...and the Ministry can punish you if you do magic outside of school; you get letters."

The voice of a young boy could just faintly be heard as the last of the children departed the school grounds for the day. It was barely a whisper across the now-vacated courtyard, and coming from the shade of a massive tree just beyond the yard's perimeter. The sun was still slowly continuing its descent within the sky, casting dappled patterns of light and dark on the ground and creating a picturesque scene for the two peculiar friends taking refuge from its intensity.

The young, recently-turned eleven-year-old sat with his back resting against its trunk, facing his redheaded companion as she sat cross-legged on the cool grass. The over-sized jacket no longer lay around the boy's shoulders, but instead dappled across his rather shabby-looking jean-clad legs; a shirt that looked far more like a short, male's nightgown hanging from his lanky frame as he continued to talk the afternoon away.

Yet dark brown, almost black eyes darked up and away from the grass that their host had been idly picking at as his companion suddenly exclaimed, "But I've done magic outside of school!" They watched on as the girl's freckled face paled at the thought of getting into trouble before she'd even entered a magical school, and the urge to laugh at the absurdity of the thought begun to build within the boy's chest.

"We're all right," he quickly placated as he brushed his hands together, removing the bits of grass and dirt that clung to them while making sure he didn't get any on his jacket. A smile quirked at his pale lips, head tilting to the side if by a fraction as he continued to study his friend's face.

"We haven't got our wands yet," he continued after a moment, dropping his gaze back to the ground and letting his body relax back against the tree's trunk, seemingly pleased by whatever it was he'd found. "They let you off when you're a kid and you can't help it. But once you're eleven like me, and they start training you in a magical school, then you've got to be careful," was finished with a nod, Severus grateful he remembered what little his mother had taught him before any speak of magic had been forbidden from his father's house. Though he did try to convey the seriousness of his words by meeting Lily's green eyes once more, needing to make certain that his warning was heeded.

Much to his delight, the redheaded girl seemed to seriously ponder his words, and a comfortable silence fell over the pair. However, and unlike before, Severus never let his gaze return to the grass his fingers were already idly picking at once more, his dark eyes still avidly watching Lily as she picked up one of the tree's many fallen branches before twirling it around in the air like he imagined one would a wand.

The boy could almost imagine the sparks and colours of magic trailing from the ends of the stick, almost like the same way he recalled seeing in some of his childhood storybooks; the witches and wizards that were pictured using their wands to cast spells and make inanimate objects do their bidding. Severus couldn't wait to get his own wand and start school, knowing that it would not only put him one step further away from his parents and his past, but also allow him to learn the magic he so wished - and learn how to control it.

There was so much he wanted to learn - to know; so much he knew he'd missed out on because of his weakling of a ma and drunk of a magical-abhorring father. Oh, his vocabulary was beyond excellent, if one would consider curses and swearwords part of the norm for an eleven-year-old, and a part of him wanted to blame his mother for what she'd allowed to happen to him. But whenever he did, he could recall the moments where he could imagine she were the witch she'd once told him she'd been, the times where she actually stood up to his father to protect him, and Severus was only ever filled with a sad longing for a woman he'd never know.

Lily dropped the twig and leaned closer to her friend, causing Severus to blink as he came out of his wool-gathering. "It's real, isn't it?" she questioned him, a hint of uncertainty colouring her tone and causing the boy to feel his lips twitch downwards in confusion, having no idea as to what it was she was going on about. "It's not a joke?" she pressed on, "Petunia says you're lying to me. Petunia says there isn't a Hogwarts. It's real, isn't it?"

Ah...

Severus concealed his irritation at the mention of Petunia's name, ensuring that his mental sneer went unnoticed by Lily. The eleven-year-old knew better than to let her see his reaction to the mere sound of her sister's name. Even after a year, he couldn't stand the older girl. To him, Petunia Evans was too much like Demeter, the Goddess of Agriculture and Harvest (although, of course, he didn't see her as Lily's mother). Petunia instead reminded him of the way Demeter had intervened in Hades and Persephone's time together, forcibly separating the young Goddess from Hades clutches when he would have preferred she remain by his side.

Furthermore, Severus couldn't ignore the shift in Petunia's attitude, her longing having turned to outright hatred as Lily learnt something that Petunia couldn't do, and never would excel at. It echoed too much of his father's hatred towards his mother - towards him.

He felt a sudden surge of empathy for Lily, who faced a different kind of familiar struggle. And with a sense of conviction, Severus looked directly into his friend's green eyes and told her, "It's real for us." His tone was unwavering and firm, soothing the girl's concerns. "Not for her. But you'll get a letter, just like me."

"Really?" Lily whispered, her voice filled with awe and hope; something of which had a smile pulling at Severus' lips despite the way his thoughts were churning.

"Definitely," the dark-haired boy affirmed, the faint smile still lingering on his lips as he leaned back against the tree. Yet, beneath his confident exterior, Severus Snape couldn't help but feel a sudden twinge of unease. At the time, in the excitement of it all, he hadn't given it much thought. But now, as he replayed the events in his mind, a troubling realization gnawed at him.

It wasn't something he fully understood, but the fact that his acceptance letter had not only identified him but had also pinpointed his exact location, even when he didn't know where he would be most days, sent a shiver down his spine. The idea that he could be so easily traced, so readily found by a simple piece of parchment, was a concern that the boy found impossible to shake.

"And will it really come by owl?" Lily continued to whisper, and caused her friend to give his head an internal shake. There wasn't anything he could do about it now, and if anything, Severus was rather glad that his letter had still found him. To the eleven-year-old it just proved that he was a wizard, that he belonged somewhere.

"Normally," the boy agreed to his friend's question, his gaze dropping back to the grass in front of him as he realised that an owl probably wasn't the worst thing to have found him. "But you're Muggleborn, so someone from the school will have to come and explain to your parents," he added, rather glad that that hadn't been the case for him.

Severus couldn't begin to fathom what he would have done if he had woken up on his eleventh birthday to find someone standing over his homeless, sleeping form. Even Lily remained oblivious to his life on the streets, believing (and it wasn't exactly a lie) that his home life was just not as welcoming to magic as hers, that his parents just didn't seem to embrace magic in the same way as Lily's.

His words, however, seemed to leave the redheaded girl deep in thought, a slight frown furrowing her brow. He wondered what she was pondering. It wasn't that difficult to understand, really. Muggleborns came from, well, Muggle families. He could easily picture the chaos an owl dropping an acceptance letter at some unsuspecting Muggle household might cause. Severus allowed himself a mental snort at the comical image of an owl wreaking havoc, terrifying the residents, only to deliver the revelation that their recently-turned eleven-year-old was not a freak, or different, or strange, but just a wizard or witch of whom had been accepted into a school that was entirely inaccessible to their Muggles kin.

"Does it make a difference, being Muggleborn?" Lily broke the silence, her voice coming out timid and causing Severus to hesitate.

He knew from some of the knowledge his mother had imparted – knowledge that he made certain to never reveal to his father – that Hogwarts, as well as the entire wizarding world in general, had a rather odd perception when it came to Muggleborns. Yet, as he raised his head to meet Lily's green eyes, Severus found that she was staring at him with such an innocent, hopeful expression; waiting for an answer - and his lip twitched upwards.

"No," he lied, "It doesn't make a difference."

"Good," Lily breathed, the tension in her form draining away at his assertion.

"Good," Severus repeated with a nod of his head, feeling his own shoulders relax at knowing he'd said the right thing. His friend had clearly been worried about being a Muggleborn, and the wizard made a promise to himself then and there that he would make certain that Lily would never have to deal with the bigotry she may encounter because of her blood status.

"Besides," the boy continued, "You've got loads of magic. I saw that. All the time I was watching you..." Though he trailed off when he realised that Lily was no longer listening to him, the redhead instead having begun stretching herself out on the leafy ground, her eyes turning upwards and towards the tree's canopy instead. Severus tilted his head to the side as he watched, his raven hair falling to obscure his face as he observed the shadows cast by the tree's branches play across her face.

He caught himself in the act and frowned, looking away with his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

How much like Persephone she is, he mused, his thoughts once again drifting to the mythological tale. Innocent, powerful, and unassuming. Lily had no idea of the magical world she was about to enter, much like Persephone hadn't known the depths of Hades' realm when she first encountered him.