This chapter has text from L'Assommoir by Émile Zola (1877).
1975
When Severus came down the stairs one August morning and found his mother asleep in a chair, her head resting on her folded arms atop the greasy kitchen table, he knew at once that his father had not returned home the night before.
He took a step backward, hoping to ease out of the kitchen before she awoke, but it was too late. The creaking floorboards was enough to rouse her, and she jerked upward, one side of her face red and wrinkled from her knitted sleeve, her eyes still veiled with tears. She scrubbed at her face, saw the morning sunlight streaming through the dirty windows, and said, "Oh! Severus. What time is it?"
"It's eight," he answered, taking another half-step back.
"Let me make you some breakfast," she said, standing up to dash about the wretched little room.
"You really don't have too–"
"Don't be stupid. Sit down."
Severus bit back a sigh and dropped down in one of the rush-bottomed chairs, bracing his chin in his hand.
"Your father stepped out for a moment. To the shops."
Severus hummed, not bothering to give her a proper response.
"You just missed him."
He glanced around. This little crooked house in Cokeworth was full of broken things. From the chipped milk jug, to the missing drawers, to the woman pulling out a pan to fry the bacon on. Above the window his mother had set up a line of clothes to dry, protected from the rain. Pinned to it was a shawl full of holes, and a pair of trousers stained brown with old mud, the last rags which dealers in second-hand clothes declined to buy. Lying on a shelf above the stove, tucked underneath the milk jug was a bundle of pink pawn tickets.
His mother, Eileen, set down in front of him a strip of bacon and a slice of buttered bread. Severus had only just taken a bite when he heard the front door open and a string of muttered of curses. Eileen was rushing out of the kitchen and Severus gobbled down what was left of his breakfast in case he needed to make a quick exit.
Tobias Snape stood on the threshold, still a little hungover and slow-footed, his eyes bloodshot and his clothes smelling of liquor and perfume.
"You! It's you!" Severus heard his mother yell.
"Yes, it's me. What of it?" Tobias replied.
"Where did you spend the night!? Whose bed did you crawl into!? Tell me now, where have you been!?"
"Ah! There's the music! If you don't shut up I'll blacken your eye and go right back to where I just came from!"
"No, no, don't do that…" Eileen whimpered, more upset at the threat of his leaving than his pulled-back fist.
Severus heard his father stomping around. He wished they would take it upstairs, so that he might at least escape the kitchen. "It's a mess in here! You never clean! God, look at you. Do you even wash yourself now?"
That insult hit a little too close to home and the fire inside Eileen roared back to life. "Who are you to criticize me? I'd like to see you do better! Do you think Amy will cook and clean for you? Oh, I know all about her! You think she's so great because she puts on airs. Hah! You want a blueblood, well there's hardly any blood that's bluer than mine! Amy is nothing but a cheap whore! Every man on the street's had her!"
Severus heard a series of dull thumps, the sounds of flesh hitting flesh, of his father striking his mother, of his mother hitting back, until there came a crashing as furniture was toppled. Severus leapt to his feet, ready to put a stop to it if it got any worse, but before he could do anything, Tobias burst into the kitchen, his face scratched, and did a double take when he saw his son standing there. The sight of Severus only gave him pause for a second, and then he was grabbing the milk jug and reaching a hand inside to pull out their savings, scattering the pawn tickets across the floor. He shoved the money into his pocket and was once more heading out the front door.
"Where are you going!? Tobias! TOBIAS!"
Severus ducked out of the kitchen, not sparing either of his parents a second glance, and went out through the back, climbing over the broken garden wall and onto the street. He took the long way to Lily's, just to make sure he didn't run into his father. He left Spinner's End, with its gutters full of trash, and its crooked little houses, and crossed into what was considered the nice end of Cokeworth.
Lily's house was a square box made of bricks, with white shutters and window boxes planted with scarlet pansies. Severus thought it one of the prettiest houses on the street, made prettier by the sight of a small face with red hair peeking out from one of the upstairs windows. One day, he was going to live in a house just like this one.
He knocked on the door and put on a smile when it opened to Mrs Evans's tight-lipped face. "Is Lily home?" He asked, already knowing the answer.
"Severus," she said, her tone beleaguered. "I've been meaning to talk to you. You and Lily are getting older, and, well, I'm not sure it's right for the two of you to run around – by yourselves – as you do–"
"ByeMumI'llbebackforlunch," Lily said in a rapid-fire speech, squeezing her body past her mother and popping out of the house like a mouse from its hole. She grabbed hold of Severus's hand and took off running before her mother could protest. She careened down the street, dragging Severus the entire way, and only stopping when she turned a corner and her house was no longer in sight. Lily braced her hands against her knees, sucked in a breath, and shot Severus a wild grin. "Want to go collect ingredients?"
They'd all but been banned from the park after that stunt with the swings two summers ago, and now they spent most of their holidays wading around the pond, their jeans rolled up to their knees, searching for frogs and salamanders to be used in their experiments. Sometimes they went into town and listened to music at the record store, or went to the movies, but most days they ran wild in the tangled wilderness just outside of town.
"Potter sent me another letter," Lily said as she plunged into the frigid water, the mud squishing between her toes. She put her shoes on top of her head and stuck out her arms, just like she had seen Petunia do with a stack of books. Ladies walk with their heads perfectly straight, she said, and went up and down the stairs like that until one of the books slid free and landed on her toe.
"That's because he's in love with you," Severus said as he searched around for frogs.
"Don't be gross."
"It's true! He's probably already picked out names for your children: Jamesina, Jamette, and James Jr. All named after himself, of course."
Lily clutched her stomach and made gagging noises while Severus laughed.
"Your parents are still going to take me to King's Cross when school starts up again, right?"
"Yeah, why wouldn't they?"
"I don't know. They've been weird all summer."
"It's because we're growing up," Lily said, fluttering her eyelashes like a maiden in a fairy tale. "My Mum gave me the talk last month. What about you? Has your dad talked to you about… that stuff? Growing up and all that."
"No, but he did give me one of his cigarettes the other day, which I guess means he thinks I'm a man now."
"Sev, do you need me to tell you about the birds and the bees?" Lily asked, laughing. "I can borrow one of Mum's books. How about Menstruation and Me?"
"Gross." Something small and brown darted between the reeds and Severus yelled out, "I've got one! Help me, Lils!"
Lily dove forward, crashing into Severus, and sending them both slipping underneath the water.
When lunchtime rolled around, Lily waved goodbye and ran back home, and Severus started the long trudge back to Spinner's End, soaking wet and covered in mud, but three frogs richer which he gave to Lily for safekeeping. He was still a block away from his house when he ran into Victor Creswell, Amy Cresswell's son, loitering on the sidewalk.
"Finally took a bath, Snape?" He sneered from where he sat on the curb. "Or did you crawl out of a sewer?"
"You might want to be nice to me," Severus yelled back with a smile as he walked past. "We might end up step-brothers!"
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Only that my dad's fucking your mum. He's probably fucking her right now. Is that why you're out here sitting on the sidewalk? Did your mum kick you out? Don't be mad, she's got to make the rent somehow."
Cresswell was no longer sitting, but up on his feet and running straight for Severus. They collided in a whirlwind of fists, punching and grabbing whatever they caught hold of. Voices rose up as several other neighborhood kids peeked out from behind doors and garden gates. They drew nearer, some cheering the combatants on while others called for them to stop. Severus had the height, but Cresswell had the weight, and he soon managed to shove Severus to the ground. Cresswell, one arm thrown across Severus's chest, used his other hand to grasp around the dirty gutter, coming away with a thick glass bottle.
Severus managed to wiggle free and snatched up a broken broom handle left lying by a trash bin, raising it up like a club. The two of them remained there, on their knees, menacing each other. Their clothes were torn and dirty, their faces swelling with bruises. They watched each other. Severus gave the first blow. His broom handle glanced off of Cresswell's shoulder, and the bottle missed his nose by an inch. The other kids around them no longer laughed.
Cresswell's bottle shattered against Severus's arm, cutting into him. All at once, Severus seized Cresswell around the waist, bent him down, and pressed his face against the pavement. Raising the broom handle he commenced with a beating with deceptively thin arms made strong from stirring, chopping, and mincing day after day. The wood hit upon flesh with a damp sound.
"That's enough!" Someone cried out.
Severus heard nothing, nor did he tire, and he started to sing a potioneer's song he had learned from his mother.
"One, two, three, she's stirring at the pot!
Four, five, six, tries to win back his heart!
Seven, eight, nine, the potion's black with rot!"
A hand grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him up, away from Cresswell who was trying to bite back tears as he struggled to get his feet underneath him. Severus felt his teeth rattle in his skull as someone violently shook him, his toes barely touching the ground. "What the hell do you think you're doing!?" He heard Tobias yell from somewhere above him.
His old man hadn't even had time to buckle his belt. Severus threw back his head and laughed.
One week later, Severus piled inside Mr Evans's car with his trunk, his face still coloured green and yellow with old bruises. Once again, his mother had seen him off with a kiss and a, "The Evanses are nice people. Act like you've got some sense."
Mr Evans pretended not to take any notice of Severus's face. It wasn't his business how parents disciplined their children.
They made their train on time, boarded the Hogwarts Express, and spent the ride playing Gobstones, which proved difficult with the rocking of the train. Gobstones went flying, spraying everywhere, and Severus and Lily jumped onto seats, trying to dodge the mad things. By the time the train pulled into Hogsmeade, they stumbled out of the carriage, their faces red from laughter, stinking from the foul stench the Gobstones released.
"Whoa, look at Potter," Lily said. Severus turned to look and made a face.
Severus used to console himself with the fact that he may not be popular like Potter, or handsome like Potter, or athletic like Potter, but at least he was taller than the other boy and if he ever got Potter alone he'd probably be able to beat him in a fistfight. Of course, Potter was never alone; James Potter, King of Gryffindor, was a coward. He never went anywhere without his little gang of 'Marauders' to back him up.
But as he turned to see Potter walking up the stone steps into Hogwarts Castle… Potter had shot up like a tree over the summer. His shoulders had widened, his muscles seemed bigger than before, and his cheeks were covered with little nicks and cuts. Was James Potter already shaving?
Severus felt his own face, which was still smooth and soft. He hadn't grown up so much as grown tall, like a stretched-out piece of taffy. He was still wearing his old robes from two years ago and the white lines of his ankles and wrists peeked out beneath the hem.
"Meet me later at our spot?" Severus asked Lily as they entered the castle.
"Of course. What time?"
"An hour before curfew?"
"I'll see you then."
They broke apart, each to their respective tables. Her to Gryffindor, and he to Slytherin. Severus sat at the very end of the bench. No one bothered to say hello or ask him how his summer was. He sat quietly, ate quickly, and tried not to watch Lily joke around with her other friends.
By the time the Sorting Ceremony was finished, Severus was twitching, ready to jump up and leave. He was the first one up, moving quickly, dodging prefects as they gathered up the new first years. Every autumn Severus descended into the dungeons, into the Underworld, like Persephone, only to rise again next spring, thrust back into the arms of his mother, no matter how unwilling he might be. Unlike that crooked little house in Cokeworth, the dungeons felt safe. Cold and damp as they were, dark and cramped, he had never felt as free as he did when he was down here.
He hurried along, past a group of sixth years, and went deeper underground. The flickering sconces were spaced further and further apart the deeper he went, and they no longer glowed a bright warm orange. Instead, they almost shimmered with a sickly, pale green light. He turned down a dusty corridor where a row of unused classrooms lay empty. Lily and he discovered them their second year and had claimed one as their own private laboratory (Severus's words) and secret clubhouse (Lily's words).
He only had to wait a few minutes before a familiar face popped inside. Lily grinned at him and closed the door before taking a seat on the cold stone floor beside him. "What do you think of the new first years?" She asked as she settled in. "They seem to get smaller every year."
"Lily, half of them are taller than you."
Lily stuck out her tongue. "Not everyone has chicken legs like you. Look at all that ankle you're flashing, Sev! You trollop!"
Severus laughed, unable to keep the tinge of pink from colouring his cheeks at the mention of his too-short robes. "Has Potter proposed to you yet?"
This time it was Lily who blushed. "He wrote me a poem."
"You're kidding! You have to read it to me!"
"No! It's too embarrassing!"
"Lils, please, please, I need a dramatic reading of it. Did he talk about your eyes? I bet he talked about your eyes."
Lily's face was as red as her hair. "I should have never told you. Don't go blabbing it to people. You know Potter will murder you if you do, and then he'll murder me."
"He's not going to murder you. He's in love with you."
"Well, I'm not in love with him!" Lily said defiantly and Severus felt something warm spark in the pit of his stomach at those words. She shifted closer until they were touching from shoulder to thigh. "I'm not interested in bullies with more hair than brains."
Severus could feel his face and neck grow hot. "Oh. Good– I mean, you're too good for Potter. Is there– what kind of boys do you like then?" He asked, his voice cracking.
Lily shrugged, her face still glowing. "I like smart boys. I like boys who can make me laugh." She glanced up at him and it felt like she was digging into side, as if there was suddenly more of her than there was only a moment before, that Lily Evans – short, small Lily Evans – was suddenly large enough to swallow him whole. Severus felt his breath hitch, her face was much closer than it had been a moment before, and he was about to close his eyes, shut them against reality and let whatever happened happen, when his gaze drifted over to the door.
The door that now stood wide open.
Severus jerked back, away from Lily and onto his feet, ready to step up and take the blame should Filch come walking through. Lily turned her head, saw what had frightened her friend, and leapt up, brushing down her robes. She tiptoed toward it and peeked out. "There's no one there," she said, looking back at him. "I must not have shut it all the way."
Severus took a step forward and froze when he felt fingers brush through his hair, grazing across the back of his neck. To his embarrassment, he let out a shriek and whirled around, his eyes wide but seeing nothing.
"What?" Lily demanded, looking all around. "What is it? What's wrong?"
"I felt–" He breathed heavily through his nose, wrapping his arms around his torso. Someone – a man – chuckled, right next to his ear. Severus could feel hot breath against him and he jumped. Nothing. Nothing. There was nothing there, only empty space. "Someone touched me," he finished lamely.
Lily wrinkled her brow in confusion. "Sev, there's no one here but us." She cracked a smile. "Maybe a spider fell on you. Well, I've got to go. There's only a few minutes left until curfew." Her smile dropped and she gave him a concerned look. "Are you going to be okay? You look really pale."
He smiled shakily. "I'm fine. It's probably Peeves just playing a joke."
"You're probably right. I'll see you tomorrow. 'Night."
"Goodnight." Severus let the smile fall as Lily closed the door behind her. He took one last glance around the empty classroom and then bolted for the Slytherin dormitory.