Hey, Finally got this done~ish. Not sure if I'm satisfied, but this was hard. I hadn't realized how little of Snape's life is canon. Gives me a bit of freedom, but also too many possibilities to think about. There are quite a few other things that I had to think about but I'd like to attribute his muggle hatred as a Hogwarts student to his father and his pre-Hogwarts knowledge to his mother who WASN'T brutalized every other day. I might add my answer to certain reviews to the chapter so that they don't overlap. If you see errors, just let me know. Anyway, enjoy!
Kicking a stray stone off to the side, I sigh. Home was always dreary. The narrow, worn cobblestone streets, poorly constructed terraced houses, and peeling or faded paint only made it seem like a financially crippled area. What made it all worse was the abandoned factories casting looming shadows over most houses, denying most of the day's sunlight. Passing rows upon rows of houses, I scowl as the smog-laden air leaves a slimy film at the back of my throat.
Ignoring the vigorous moaning and rhythmic thumping from a nearby window, I squeeze through a broken section of fencing before jumping over a clogged gutter. Slipping out of the small alley, I quickly join the side street. The only perk of living where I do is that I live at the very last house. Practically undeveloped wilderness is my backyard if you ignore the pollution and lack of life. Even the trees have withered into shadows of what they could be. The defining feature is access to the river. While polluted, it is running water, and working around dumping cycles is easy.
While I've never heard laughter in Spinners End, the factories add some life. I'm not sure if it was after my parents were killed, but this part became a hot spot for vagrants and those who took part in the darker parts of muggle society. Pulling my robes closer as the wind whips the loose folds around, I pass my neighbor's home and slowly inch closer to our window. Peeking inside, I sigh as I find Tobias in his worn armchair. Scowling at the distasteful furnishings, I take a deep breath and rap on the door. I'm almost sure it was some of my former colleagues who killed them to remind me of my place, but I honestly don't think I could bring myself to care at that point. The night the Potters had died, I had come home to lay low, but no one had lived in it for months at that point. Some stray traces of blood were the only indicator of what might have happened.
Hearing the telltale sounds of Tobias lazily making his way to the door, I pray to Merlin that he isn't drunk yet. Stepping back as he kicks the door, I wait as he slowly works the door open. Stepping out of the gloom, he towers over me, squinting down to get a better look, "Boy? Is that you?" Snorting, I push my way past him, "Let's get a drink tonight Pa, I'll pay. I got something to say." Quirking an eyebrow, something I realize I developed a habit of doing later in life, he grumbles before trudging back into the house behind me.
Quietly checking the empty kitchen, I take my trunk out before undoing the shrinking charm. Quickly finding my muggle banknotes, I add a notice me not charm on the trunk before shrinking it down and tucking it into my room. Flipping through the notes, I smirk at the 20-pound note. As much as I'd love a 50-pound note, I highly doubt even Tobias or Mum have one. Closing the door behind me, I grab a stack of used paper and parchment before laying them both on the ground side by side. Picking up the note, I rub the material between my fingers.
Leaving my robe on the bed, I grab an oversized jacket before adding a warming charm. Folding the banknote in half, I cast a Gemino curse. Tucking the wand up my sleeve, I quickly exit the home, stepping out into the street. The first thing I did, was get rid of all the useless furnishings. While I wasn't amazing at transfiguration, changing cheap material into practical furniture isn't hard. Some kind of plastic that changes color with angle. With certain transparent windows micro-lettering, watermarks, and a serial number, transfiguring would be difficult if I didn't have to know all the identifiers. How was it that I did this before? I think it was after the first wizarding war that I started using muggle pounds to buy groceries and mundane items. Setting the 20-pound banknote down, I grab one of the pieces of parchment and flick my wand out of my sleeve. Not the Gemino charm or curse since they aren't permanent, but a modification, Mutare Geminio. A combination of the copying charm and transfiguration, requiring the wand to start at the original object and end on the object to be transfigured. Trying the spell out, I grin as an identical banknote crinkles between my fingers. Waving my wand again, I change the serial number. I should be able to make quite a bit of money like this.
Quietly Making my way through the stack of parchment and used papers, I slump against my bare walls, exhausted. If I'm not as incompetent as my peers, I should have created around 347 banknotes. Not quite the 7,000 pounds sterling I was hoping for, but it's enough. Separating 250 banknotes and wrapping them into a bundle using my musty bedsheets, I change into my oversized muggle clothes. Grabbing my old rucksack, I stuff the bundle inside before pocketing the rest in an oversized lounge coat. Pulling the coat over a faded Beatles shirt, I fold the sleeves back. Slinging the rucksack over my right shoulder, I leave my room.
Glancing at the setting sun, I unlock the front door, "Pa! Let's go!" Pushing down on the doorknob as I roughly shove it open with my shoulder. Frowning as Tobias slams the door shut behind him, I look up at the unkempt man. He isn't the worst, but he truly has nothing that keeps him attached other than the money invested in the house. While the factories had jobs he earned enough to pay off the house, he just stopped trying after getting laid off multiple times due to factory shutdowns.
The only thing that made our situation worse was that he never allowed Ma to get work in the wizarding or muggle world. Isn't proper he said. Ma always tried her best, but she gave up going to the wizarding world after I turned eleven. Glancing at Tobias's red and black flannel, I start walking towards the nearest pub. Neither me nor, Ma ever bought new clothes, but occasionally this man would convince Ma that he'd need some to get another job. His old clothes naturally were given to us, and Ma even made some of them look good, but I ran into problems once I had to attend Hogwarts. Ma ran from her home without planning it out. Without any wizarding money, Ma ended up selling her jewelry to pay for my wand, ten and-a-quarter inches ebony with dragon heartstrings for the core. Nothing Fancy, but it matched well.
Lost in my thoughts, we quickly made it to the local pub. Taking a table near the corner, I rake a hand through my hair. As blunt as I want to be, I don't hate him. There are times when I wish he wasn't my father, but I don't hate him. At least not since I realized that I embody so much of him. I may not be an abusive drunk, but I do have his large nose. Taking a look at him, I find it less eye-catching due to his large frame. Maybe it's the fact that I stayed skinny and sallow. I definitely got Ma's hair color, but I think the grease comes from him. Nodding to the approaching waitress, I sit straighter, "I need to talk with you about something serious, but let's get a round of drinks started."
The waitress, a woman in her late twenties with hair the color of stale beer pulled back into a messy bun, gives us a once-over. Her uniform, if it can be called that, consists of a faded brown apron over an off-white blouse, and a similarly navy blue skirt that's too long to be fashionable but too short to be practical. Not that I'd know. Her demeanor suggests she's exhausted from dealing with too many rough nights and too many rough customers, but her eyes are sharp, missing nothing. I know her from somewhere.
"What'll it be then?" She asks with a surprisingly chipper tone, bobbing up on the tips of her toes for a moment.
"Two pints of your best," I say, trying to keep my tone neutral. "And… do you do food here?"
She snickers in amusement, "Best's a strong word for what we serve. But yeah, we do food. Pie and chips alright?"
I nod, and she scribbles down the order on a small, crumpled notepad before sauntering off towards the bar, her steps surprisingly light for someone who looks like she'd rather be anywhere but here.
As she leaves, Tobias leans back in his chair, eyeing the other patrons with a mix of annoyance and mild disdain. "This place," he mutters, "it's gone to the dogs."
Ignoring him, I focus instead on the greasy windows that barely let in any light, the sticky table that probably hasn't seen a good scrub in years, and the faint, persistent smell of spilled beer and something else I can't quite identify. It's the perfect backdrop for the kind of conversation I dread having but know is unavoidable.
When the waitress returns, balancing two frothy pints and a tray with our rudimentary meals, her movement through the pub seems almost natural, avoiding grasping hands and lewd comments with practiced ease. Setting down the pints with a thud that sends a few drops spilling over the sides, she places a plate in front of each of us.
"Enjoy! That is if you can keep it down," she says, her voice turning snarky a the end. "Don't see many choosing to dine here. You two must be desperate or bullocks in the kitchen."
"Must be," I reply, not even attempting a smile hoping she would get the message.
As she walks away, I can't help but remember her being levitated outside the pub. Must have been a bout of muggle hunting. The only death eaters who'd come here, are the ones trying to visit me. Could it have been Bellatrix or Lucius? Turning back to Tobias, I take a swig of the beer. Relishing the initial harsh bitterness, I scowl as the metallic tang of the aftertaste conquers my mouth. Setting the mug down carefully, I push it away, "Pa, I'll be needing you to be straight with me." Waiting for him to finish chewing on what should be a bite of meat and potato pie, I lean forward over the table, "You don't care about me and Ma do you? Do you still want to be with her?"
"Don't play with me boy, get to the point so I can get back to enjoying the grub" he snarls.
"Fine," I huff, "Do you want out? Do you want to leave us?"
"Even if I do," Shoving a potato wedge in his mouth, "I don't get anywhere to go do I? No money to start fresh, and no job to make any. "
Gritting my teeth as he nonchalantly starts stuffing his face with a pie, I formulate my words carefully, "If I could get you enough money, would you want to go Pa? Tell me seriously, because I would prefer you to leave."
"You want me to leave, huh" he asks softly, his habitual rage burning into his demeanor, "Why would I want to be with you freaks? Unnatural you are. Going to hell you will, along with the hag of a mother."
Forming fists as the man takes another gulp of the beer, I lean closer, standing over his food at this point. "How much do you need to get lost Pa" I whisper.
Slamming down his empty mug, he grabs at mine while sneering, "More than that whore of a mother could ever make."
Feeling a shiver rip up my back, the building shakes as if an earthquake were happening. Standing up, I curl my lips, "How much? Tell me before you can't."
Almost sober, he stares back at me with the same intense black eyes I have. He stands, recognizing the signs of accidental magic, "Four thousand pounds sterling, you get me that and I'll never look back. Not that a coward like you could get it even with your witchcraft. You and your devil-worshiping mother can burn at the stake for all I care."
Feeling the pub shift to the side in another tremor, I force myself to sit down. I'm no coward. Potter didn't know any better, can't expect an imbecile to know anything anyway. Minerva couldn't know better, I made sure of that. This man, however, does not get to say that. Reaching into my rucksack, I take out the bundle. Keeping myself between the bundle and other patrons, I open it under the table, Counting fifty 20-pound bank notes, I pocket them before rapping the bundle up again. Shoving it into Tobias's lap, I sling the rucksack back over my shoulder. I knew that this wouldn't be pleasant, but close to two decades of his absence had made me forget why I hated this man. No, I still hate this bastard.
"I'm no coward and I won't let anyone delude themselves otherwise. If you bother me or Ma again, I'll end you. You hear? I'll end you Pa, and not like how you would think. No, I'll make the devil happy, Pa" I snarl threateningly. Leaving a pound Sterling on the table for the meal, I stalk out of the pub into the dismal night. Passing the waitress, who was smoking while sitting on a milk crate, I ran my hands through my hair in frustration. A couple of hours until midnight and still quite a bit to do. First and foremost, I need to set up some kind of protection around the house. Blood wards would be nice, but something easier like a Fidelis might do the trick. Mother still needs to be talked to, and that conversation might even be worse than with Tobias since I can't just walk away. I need Oclumency shields, but I have until the next term for that. As for plans and goals, I'll wait until my head is clear. There's too much I could do, and so much I no longer wish to be involved with. I need to sort out what information I want to trade, act on myself, and ignore. But all of that can be done without a wand.
Quickly heading home, I slip inside to find my mother waiting in her transfigured rocking chair. Every once in a while, Tobias used to break them apart in his rage, but Mother always fixed them easily with a repairing charm. Frowning at the dim candle flame lighting the home, I slide my wand out, casting a Lumos. Grinning as she looks at the charm in shock, I grunt as she abruptly envelops me in a hug. Stiffening at the unwelcome contact, I reluctantly hug her back. I did miss her, but people never get close to you without wanting something. In this case, a semblance of familial love.
"How are you home Severus?"
"Well Ma, I forced someone's jaw open."
Not letting go, she raises her head to look at me skeptically, "Not detention. Not Expulsion as I haven't received a letter, and yet you perform underage magic. Suspension Severus? Was that someone worth it Severus?"
Smirking, I lead her back to the rocking chair. Casting a locking charm on the door, since you can never be sure with muggles, I squat down next to her, "Ma, we need to talk." Cupping my face lovingly, she leans forward close enough for my nose to touch her forehead. "Start with why you're not in Hogwarts," she whispers, "and let's end with why your breath smells like beer. I assume that you left with Tobias since his coat's gone and that it didn't end well." Pulling back, I sniff my shirt before hastily pawing at the damp chest area. When did the beer spill onto my shirt?
Sighing in annoyance, I lay back on the rickety floorboards, "I cast an enlarging charm on a bread roll." Seeing her skeptical but amused expression, I find myself smiling as well. I've really missed having someone that I could talk to, "You know how Slytherin is Ma, it's getting hard to keep my head down when the whole school is against me. You know that there's a lunatic calling himself a dark lord right?" Sneaking a glance at her, I feel my stomach twist itself into a knot. Ma always was an emotional person, seeing her eyebrows twisted in concern makes me wonder if Slytherin was different in her time. Going back to counting the patches in the ceiling, I pinch my wand for comfort, "He's a mass murdering lunatic Ma. He's been recruiting heavily in Slytherin."
Hearing the floor groaning as she slowly lays beside me, I frown as she grabs my hand, "I was going to join him Ma. He was going to give me what no one would. He was going to give me power, money, and riches Ma. At least that's what the recruiters said." Letting the words sink in, I let the silence settle over the home. Feeling nothing but the cold hard floors below, and the warmth of Mother's hand over my own, I remind myself that I have nothing to regret. Nothing that matters to me anyway. Letting out a shuddering breath, she asks, "So why did you back out? From what the recruiter said, he can give you everything I couldn't."
Feeling the pit in my stomach sink, I squeezed her hand, "Ma, you did your best. I just realized that either side of the upcoming war would only seek to use me. I'm no pureblood and I am no light-christened hero. I'm no Gryffindor." Hearing her stifle a laugh, I find my smile returning, "No Severus. I can't imagine you looking good in red and gold anyway. So, you rejected the rest of your house?" Grunting in agreement, I slowly push myself into a sitting position, "As you can hopefully discern Mother, I then was unceremoniously suspended and traveled home." Snorting, she turns to me, propping her head up, "I'm sure you're still leaving out some details, but let's move on to what you talked to Tobias about."
Finding more apprehension than curiosity, I look back at her rocking chair, "Ma, do you love him?" Feeling her hand clamp onto my chin and force me to make eye contact, I nervously swallow what saliva had accumulated.
"Severus, what did you talk about?"
"Ma, I asked if he wanted to be with us."
Staring into her amber eyes, I slump as she doesn't reply, "Ma. Just tell me. Do you still love him?" Apparently, she finds what she was looking for since she lets go of my chin and gives me a wry smile, "Severus. We never loved each other. We got together because I wanted to avoid my family and he was looking for a quick fling. We stayed together because there wasn't much else to do. He wouldn't leave without enough money saved up to start over and I needed a place to lay low and raise you." Chuckling, she gives me an exhausted look, "My sweet sweet child, love is relative and life most certainly doesn't revolve around it."
Twisting the wand in my hand I tentatively try to pass the fruits of my labor off as a joke, "Well, it's a good thing that he's not coming back then. Right, Ma?" Suddenly not sluggish or comforting, she grabs me by the shoulders, "You killed him?" Rolling my eyes like I had seen hundreds of dunderheads do in the past, I sneer at her, "Of course, I, the future Dark Lord, have decided to start my career off by spending time in Azkaban for offing my muggle father." Trying hard not to smile, she shakes me in urgency, "Explain Severus Tobias Snape! What did you do?"
Grinning, I toss her the stack of bank notes from my pocket, "I paid him off. He won't be around for a while. I wanted to obliviate him, but I might have gotten some attention from the Auror's office so I need to be good for a bit. At least until I'm 17 and done with NEWTS. Ma, I'm going to need you to put wards up around the house." Looking down at the stack of banknotes, she lets go and leafs through them in amazement, "It's like you robbed a bank. They feel real. These aren't temporary." I'd say this is a decent talk, now with this out of the way and only half an hour until midnight, I shake her shoulder, "Ma, I'm happy you're taking this well, but I need you to do something." Looking at me suspiciously, she waves the notes around, "Of course, there's more to it. What could be more important than no longer being piss-poor?"
Shrugging, I say, "Ma, I want a Fidelis."