Severus Snape sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the faint crack in the ceiling above. Outside, the sun had barely risen, its pale light slipping through the shabby curtains, bathing his room in muted grays. In his hand, he held a letter, the parchment crinkling beneath his grip as though it might vanish entirely if he let go.
The emblem at the top was unmistakable: the crest of Hogwarts — School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
For years, he had clung to this moment like a lifeline, a promise of escape. This letter wasn't just paper and ink; it was a doorway—a chance to become something more.
And for Severus, that chance couldn't come soon enough.
"Can't even make breakfast correctly without usin' it, can ya?" His father's voice echoed from downstairs, the sharp clang of something striking metal quickly followed suit. Severus closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. His parents were arguing again. He slipped the letter into the pocket of his worn trousers and rose to his feet. The floorboards groaned under him as he crossed the small room.
The acrid smell of burnt toast met him as he stepped into the narrow hallway. His stomach clenched, though not from hunger. He descended the creaking stairs slowly, his battered and ill-fitted shoes scuffing against the warped wood.
"Utter rubbish…" Tobias's voice carried from the kitchen, his face buried in the newspaper. "The police are sayin' they died of natural causes, but I know better. George and Betty were healthy—too healthy for that kind of nonsense. Found 'em in an alleyway, too—just a few blocks from here! Shit just keeps gettin' closer. Hell, Robert just stopped showin' up to work one day. Haven't seen him in months. Nobody has. I tell ya what though…it sure as hell sounds like the work of your ilk, Eileen."
Severus stopped on the last step, his knuckles white as he gripped the bannister. He already knew where this was heading.
Eileen's voice was barely audible. "Tobias, don't start—"
"Don't start? Don't start? " His father's chair scraped violently against the floor as he stood. "It's bad enough I'm stuck with two of ya."
Eileen made an uncomfortable noise.
"Yeah…" he drawled, as if he'd caught her in some kind of elicit act. "That's right. I know you've been teachin' him that nonsense behind my back, Eileen. Don't think I don't! An' now you want to pretend like the world doesn't see what you people are? Us normal folk—we ain't as stupid as ya think we are."
Severus tried to move past the entryway unnoticed, but Tobias's sharp eyes caught him the moment he stepped into view.
"You, boy." The words were a bark, sharp and biting. "You wouldn't have had anything to do with that, would ya?"
"Tobias, stop it! " Eileen snapped, her voice trembling as she tossed a charred piece of bread onto a plate. "He's just a child—"
"Shut it, woman!" Tobias's glare silenced her. He then turned back to Severus.
"Always sneakin' about. Mutterin' nonsense upstairs. If I had my way, you wouldn't be goin' to that joke of a school. You'd be in a proper place, where they'd beat the weirdness right outta ya."
Severus's dark eyes burned with barely contained fury as he glared at his father. Tobias only chuckled at this, settling back into his chair with a smug expression.
"Go on, keep lookin' at me like that, ya nasty little git," Tobias sneered. "See where it gets ya."
Severus's hands clenched into fists at his sides. He knew if he really wanted to, he could shut him up. Just a small bit of magic. Enough to wipe the smug look off his face.
But he didn't. He knew lashing out would only make things worse.
"Don't you dare turn your back on me, boy!" Tobias shouted, as Severus turned away from him.
The bottle shattered against the wall inches from Severus's head, sending jagged shards of glass raining onto the floor of the cramped kitchen. Severus froze. Every nerve in his body screamed for him to react, move, do something. But he didn't. He stood there, staring blankly at the broken glass.
"Go on, then!" Tobias sneered, his voice slurred. "Do your little tricks. Let's see if you're half as clever as ya think ya are."
Anger roiled just beneath the surface, threatening to boil over. He was seconds away from lashing out.
No, he told himself firmly.
He had promised to meet Lily today, and he refused to let his father ruin that for him.
Without a word, Severus stormed past his mother toward the door. She stood frozen by the stove, her back rigid, her shoulders hunched. She didn't say anything, but she didn't stop him either. She never did.
"Where d'ya think you're goin'? Get back here ya little freak! " Tobias shouted after him, but Severus didn't stop. He was out the door and down the street in seconds, the morning chill biting at his skin. He knew his father wouldn't come after him, but he always made sure to put as much distance between himself and the house as quickly as he possibly could. Just in case.
Severus stood at the edge of the lake, his chest rising and falling with the effort of keeping his emotions in check. The crisp morning air filled his lungs, a sharp contrast to the suffocating tension he'd left behind in the house. He closed his eyes, willing himself to focus on the soft lapping of the water and the rustling of leaves overhead. This was his place—the one spot where his father's venom couldn't reach him.
"Sev!"
He turned at the sound of Lily's voice. She was carrying a small satchel slung over her shoulder, her steps light and quick as if the weight of the world didn't rest on her as it did on him.
"You're early," she remarked with a grin, dropping her bag on the ground beside him. Her eyes searched his face and the grin immediately faltered. "What happened?"
"Nothing," Severus muttered, glancing away.
Lily sighed, crossing her arms. "You know you're terrible at lying, right?"
He hesitated, torn between the urge to spill everything and the stubborn pride that kept his pain locked away. Instead of answering, he shrugged and turned his gaze back to the lake.
Lily stepped closer, her voice softer now. "Was it your dad?"
Severus stiffened, his silence answering for him.
"Sev," she urged, her tone heavy with sympathy. "You don't have to keep dealing with him alone, you know. I'm sure my mum wouldn't mind if you stayed with us for a bit. Tuney might throw a fit, but just ign—"
"No," he cut her off, shaking his head. "I can't. It's…" He trailed off, his fists clenching at his sides.
Lily didn't press and he appreciated that more than she knew. He didn't need her pity. Her presence beside him was enough to remind him that he wasn't entirely alone.
After a moment, she sat down on the grass and patted the spot next to her. "Come on," she said gently. "Let's find something fun to work on. I brought my notebook."
He hesitated before sinking down beside her, the weight in his chest easing slightly. Lily opened her satchel, pulling out a small, well-worn notebook filled with scribbled ideas and half-drawn diagrams.
"Remember what you told me the other day? I was thinking," she began, flipping through the pages, "about trying to make Lumos work underwater. Imagine being able to light up the bottom of the lake."
Severus arched an eyebrow. "And why would we do that?"
"Because we can," she replied with a mischievous smile. "And because it'd be cool."
He shook his head, a faint smile appearing at the corners of his mouth. "You're ridiculous."
"Maybe," she said, nudging him playfully. "But you're smiling now, so I win."
Severus rolled his eyes, but the smile he wore only grew bigger. As the pair began tossing ideas back and forth, Severus felt the tension that had gripped him earlier begin to ease. With Lily beside him, the weight of his worries seemed lighter, the world less harsh. After a moment of comfortable silence, a thought struck him, and he glanced at her with curiosity.
"So, did you get your letter?"
Lily's face lit up at the question, her green eyes sparkling. "Of course I did!" she exclaimed, pulling a folded piece of parchment from her bag and holding it up like a trophy. "It came yesterday morning. Tuney was so mad—she kept saying it was fake, that it was some kind of prank."
Severus couldn't help but smirk. He could picture Petunia's pinched expression, her frustration at being left out of something so extraordinary. "She's just jealous she won't be getting one."
Lily frowned. "Sev…that's really mean." She tucked the letter back into her bag and for a moment he thought she would leave again. He shifted awkwardly. He knew he should apologize. Even though Petunia was a horrible little wretch, Lily still cared for her…but the thought of an apology felt hollow—he wouldn't mean it, and saying otherwise would be just another lie.
"What about you? Did yours come?"
Severus's focus shifted back to Lily as her question drew him from his thoughts. He welcomed the distraction, but hesitated before responding. As he reached into his coat pocket for the letter, he paused. It felt so much heavier now—not because of its significance to him, but because of just how much he had longed to share this moment with her.
Wordlessly, he withdrew the letter and handed it to her. Lily's grin was back as she took it, her hands carefully unfolding the parchment. She scanned the letter quickly, as if to confirm it was real, before looking back at him with unrestrained excitement.
"Sev, this is brilliant!" she said, practically bouncing where she sat. "We're really going to Hogwarts! Together!"
Her enthusiasm was infectious. The thought of Hogwarts—a place where he wouldn't be under his father's shadow, where he could learn to be something more—seemed even better now knowing she'd be there with him.
"Yeah," he replied, his voice quieter than her's, but no less certain. "We're going."
Lily grinned at him, her cheeks flushed with excitement. "Just think about it! All the new spells we'll learn, all the adventures we'll have…"
Lily's voice trailed off, her smile dimming a bit as a new thought seemed to settle in her mind. She glanced down at her hands, twisting the strap of her satchel absently. "Only…The letter says we need to get all this stuff—robes, books, a wand—and we're supposed to go to a place called Diagon Alley. But…Mum and Dad have no idea where that is or how to get there."
Severus's expression softened. He could tell she'd been worrying about this. "It's hidden," he explained. "You won't find it on any regular map. You need to know the right way in. My mum is taking me soon to get my things—I could ask her if you can come along."
Lily's eyes widened in surprise, her face lighting up. "Really? You think she'd mind?"
"She won't mind," Severus assured, a touch of pride in his voice. "She's always saying it's important for me to learn the proper way of doing things. Helping you would just be another lesson for me. Besides, it's better than figuring it all out on your own."
Lily beamed at him. "Thanks, Sev. Mum will be thrilled—she's been asking loads of questions about all this. And Dad... well, he just looks confused every time she brings it up. But they're both really excited for me!"
Severus nodded, forcing his expression to remain neutral, though his jaw tightened. Jealousy gripped him in that moment. It was a bitter, burning thing, growing stronger as Lily's words echoed in his mind. A family who cared. Parents who were not only proud, but thrilled for their child's future. He had no frame of reference for that kind of love—only a hollow ache where it should have been. His mother's silence, his father's scorn, the relentless weight of their indifference—those were his truths. To imagine something different felt almost cruel, like peering into a life he could never claim as his own.
"We'll sort it out," he assured her. "Diagon Alley has everything you'll need. It's like... a wizarding marketplace. Shops for robes, potion ingredients, wands—you name it."
"A wand," Lily said dreamily. "I can't believe we'll actually have wands."
"Yeah. And you'll need a good one." Severus said, his tone suddenly serious. "If you end up with a bad match, it can make spells harder to cast."
Lily tilted her head, curious. "What kind of wand do you think I'll get?"
"Something powerful," Severus blurted without hesitation, as though the answer was obvious. "Probably with a core like phoenix feather or dragon heartstring. You're... talented." He faltered slightly, unaccustomed to saying such things out loud, but Lily didn't seem to notice.
"What about you? What kind of wand do you want?" she asked, her gaze lifting towards the clouds that passed by.
"Something that listens—that isn't afraid to learn new spells," he said thoughtfully. "Maybe with a core like dragon heartstring."
Lily nodded and smiled. "You're going to be brilliant at Hogwarts, Sev. No matter what wand you get. You already know so much."
Severus felt his cheeks flush at her words and quickly shifted to hide it. "There's still a lot I don't know," he muttered.
"That's the point, isn't it?" Lily countered, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. "To learn everything we can, to be better. You've got a head start, but I'll catch up." She shot him a playful smirk.
Severus's lips twitched into a faint smile. "We'll see," he said.
The morning stretched on as they talked about their hopes and fears for Hogwarts. Lily's excitement was boundless, her laughter bright and frequent as she speculated about magical creatures, secret passageways, and enchanted feasts. Severus, quieter but no less engaged, offered what little he knew from books and his mother's cryptic comments about her own time at the school.
But beneath the surface of their conversation, Severus couldn't shake the gnawing thought of his father's sneer or his mother's defeated silence. The letter in his pocket was his chance at freedom, yes, but it also felt like a heavy burden the longer he let his thoughts wander. What if he failed? What if he wasn't enough? What if the world of magic, like his home, held no place for him?
"Sev?" Lily's voice cut through his thoughts. She was watching him closely, her brow furrowed with concern. "You've gone all quiet again. What's wrong?"
"Nothing," he lied, the weight in his chest pressing harder.
Lily studied him for a moment longer before reaching out and lightly nudging his arm. "Whatever it is, you don't have to do it alone, you know. That's what friends are for."
Friends.
The word settled over him, unfamiliar and warm. He glanced at her, the earnestness in her green eyes unwavering. He gave a small nod. "Thanks, Lily."
They sat together until the sun climbed higher in the sky, the troubles of the morning slipping further away. For the first time in what felt like forever, Severus allowed himself to believe that things might actually change—that Hogwarts might be the beginning of something better.
And as Lily chatted on about the spells she wanted to learn, he made a silent vow to himself: whatever else might happen, he would make sure she never regretted calling him her friend.