Chapter Text
In the last week of August, the temperature exceeded the norm of endurance, as if the sun had set its sights on burning down the soulless town that was Cokeworth. The rays of the rising sun streamed into a small room on the upper floor of an old house at Spinner's End, waking the black-haired teenager. Severus cursed his father in his mind, who several years ago, during one of his typical drunken rampages, had pushed Severus straight into a curtain, tearing it down along with the curtain rod. Since then, no one has bothered to fix it. And it's a shame, maybe that would have helped him get some sleep, more than 3 hours. Tonight he didn't fall asleep until 3 a.m., unable to get a wink of sleep after an earlier nightmare. He couldn't remember exactly what the dream was about, but he could still feel the phantom eyes full of revulsion on him.
Severus rubbed his eyelids with his hands and brushed a strand of hair off his sweaty forehead. Then he got out of bed and, automatically avoiding the creaking floorboards and the un-oiled door, directed his steps to the only bathroom in the all house, which looked dirty no matter how much anyone tried to clean it. He washed his face with cold water, then frowned at his reflection in the mirror. His black eyes were adorned with dark circles, and his large, crooked nose - a blemish inherited from his father - seemed more horrible than usual on his transparent-pale face. In addition, due to the hot weather, his shoulder-length hair looked greasier than usual, and his tattered shirt hung on him like a flag. When he returned to Hogwarts, he might be able to restore at least some mass. He shook his head over his own shameful thoughts that were worries about his appearance.
He walked silently downstairs, hoping Tobias was still asleep. He didn't feel like confronting him first thing in the morning. He heard the sounds of clamoring in the kitchen and muffled coughing. He looked into the room, seeing a silmilar-looking woman who was wheezing into a cloth handkerchief, staining it with blood. Eileen furrowed her brow, as if to rebuke the red liquid escaping from her body.
- Mother - Snape greeted, catching the gaze of his parent's black eyes. The witch curved her lips in something resembling a smile and tossed her handkerchief on the worktop behind her.
- You're up early. Sit down, I'll make you some scrambled eggs. - Slytherin took a seat on a shabby chair and looked searchingly at Eileen's hunched back.
- How are you feeling? - he asked, although he knew the answer perfectly well.
- Fine - the woman looked straight into her son's eyes, as if daring him to accuse her of lying. In moments like these, it was easy to tell what kind of house at Hogwarts she was in.
But the lies were harder and harder to hide as his mother grew paler by the day, her hands shaking at something as mundane as writing. Severus had never been one of the foolish ones, and he knew that Eileen was dying. Perhaps the process could have been delayed if Mrs. Snape hadn't been so disgusted with the idea of going to a Muggle doctor.
- Don't look at me like that, just eat. - She placed a plate of burnt scrambled eggs in front of him. Despite living as a wife of a Muggle for more than seventeen years, she still hadn't learned how to cook.
- Look how?
- Like him. As if I were weak.
Severus answered nothing and the witch turned towards the sink. Honestly, he did not consider his mother to be a weak person, although that thought had crossed his mind many times. Admittedly, he resented her for not leaving Tobias and running away with Severus. He blamed her for putting up with the man's aggressive touch on her, instead of snapping with a flick of her wand. At times, he was disgusted by Eileen's attitiude, but he never found the witch frail. Humble, sometimes miserable but not weak. Maybe in that way, he wanted to pay her any respect as well.
- Go to the garden and pick some tomatoes. I want to make some dinner out of them later. - She spoke up after a moment of silence. Slytherin nodded and wordlessly stood up.
The house at Spinner's End had no back exit, so to get to the garden, one had to go through the front door. The garden mainly grew herbs, which Eileen used to brew medicinal potions or ointments, in secret from her husband of course. Passing over the threshold, Severus froze when, in the middle of the path like a bolt of lightning, he saw Tobias's huge stature and then heard his croaking. The man was in the company of their neighbour Garraway, and puffs of foul-smelling smoke were coming from their mouths. They both looked just like the factories they have worked in.
- Oh look Toby, isn't that your boy? - Garraway was the first to notice Severus, grinning with his nasty teeth yellow from tobacco. Father's piercing brown eyes looked at him in disgust.
- What do you want? - he growled, clearly unhappy at the sight of his son.
- Mother asked for tomatoes - Slytherin turned away, wishing only to deal with the request quickly, but Garraway's words stopped him abruptly in mid-step.
- You should cut the boy's hair short. He looks like a faggot. - Severus tensed up. It wasn't the first time he'd heard this kind of insult, especially from his father's colleagues. Tobias usually went berserk and beat him, as if trying to get the hideous accusations out of him.
- Don't fuck with me, Larry - Snape senior growled, clenching his fist on a cheap fag
- Cyril said that your boy had been peeping at him and his friends while they were working on the building site - Severus was well aware of the character of the man's son, who had hated and abhorred him ever since he had first seen him. Cyril was the one who branded him a cocksucker, even though, at nine years old, he didn't even know what that meant. It was also the first time when Lily defended him.
- Severus - his name rang out like the worst of insults, even worse than Snivellous pronounced with venom by Potter and Black. A vein pulsed on Tobias's forehead, looking like a warning sign.
Slytherin knew that running away would make matters worse. Before he could think of the most profitable way out of a dangerous situation, a strong grip on his shoulder pulled him to the bared face of a beast with human facial features.
- What the fuck is he talking about?!
- I spent all my time with mother! I haven't even seen Cyril for several years! - Severus hated himself even more at this moment than usual. In height he had long since reached Tobias, and he may not have been as strong as him, but he was a damn wizard. Despite the fact that with one spell he could kill him, he couldn't stand up to father, and his figure made him fearful. Maybe Eileen was not weak, but she gave birth to such a son.
- Are you accusing my son of lying?! - Garraway shouted, spitting saliva all around him. Severus felt like he was being cornered by hungry wolves. He found himself in a hopeless situation, from which, by a strange miracle, Tobias saved him.
- It's possible that Cyril must have mistaken Severus for someone. The boy practically didn't stick his hose out of the house. Besides, my son despises faggots and would never descend to something so disgusting, right Severus? - the man's words were quiet and sharp as a blade.
- Yes- he spat out, trying to pull himself out of his father's strong grip, to no avail.
- Let's go home - Tobias snapped and, bidding his neighbor farewell with handshake, dragged Severus inside. Then he grabbed Slytherin painfully by his long hair, bringing his face dangerously close to his.
- I'm sick of the fucking fussing! I'm sick of them calling you fucking faggots!
He pulled him into the kitchen, and young Snape tried with all his might not to hiss in pain. Eileen, seeing the scene, stood paralyzed.
- Tobias leave him alone! - she shouted, but did not take a step toward him. Apart from words, there were never actions. At such moments, he hated his mother.
- Shut the fuck up, old hag!
Tobias took a sharp cleaver from the worktop, which was already soiled with raw meat, and pressed the boy's head against the table, crushing his big nose painfully. For a moment Severus thought that his father was trying to kill him, simply to drive the blade into the back of his skull and end his miserable life. But the man just cut his hair with a few angry movements, making another crack into the wooden table. Severus didn't even have time to react, to defend himself, before Tobias stepped back, lifting him by the neck and admiring his work with a frown.
- Be a man finally!
Then, he let go of him and wiped his hand on the scrap of his shirt, as if it was smeared with something slimy, and left the house slamming the door. Severus, ignoring his mother's shouts, ran upstairs to his own room and shut the door hard. He didn't have a mirror here, but in the reflection of the glass he could see the unevenly cut hair, which looked as if it had come straight out from under the lawnmower. Tears of rage appeared in his eyes. He walked over to his school trunk and pulled out a book about black magic that Rosier had lent him for the summer. The cover was beautiful, blazing with darkness, feeding on his anger and hatred. Underneath it was his mother's old Potions textbook for advanced. He opend it to a page where he noted in his cramped hadwriting a cutting spell of his own making.
Sectumsempra
No matter how he would cast this curse, it was weak, unimpressive. Since he first cast it in fifth year, cutting Potter's cheek, the strength of the spell had not strengthened. However, he now knew what was missing. A target. A specific target.
The mere desire to hurt and hate as in Potter's case was not enough. Like Tobias, Severus should wave his wand as he did a cleaver, with an idea of what he wanted his victim to look like after the attack.
He walked over to the bed and pushed back the quilt, focusing his black eyes on the mattress. He accumulated anger, hatred and disgust in one part of his mind, and in the other he imagined cuts on the cheap material with sharp springs springing out of them.
- Sectumsempra! - he shouted, aiming his wand at the designated target. He felt a stream of magic flow through his body, intensifying his emotions.
The mattress looked as he wished it would. The long, aggressive cuts now resembled his hair, ruffled and stripped of dignity.
A wide, sinister smile blossomed on his anger-ignited face, and his whole body was on fire with power. He felt the dark magic tempting him, like a snake wrapping around him. He should have been more careful, however, he felt he had nothing to lose. He used to try to be good, although people had always seen him as pure evil. Thus, he also wanted to keep Lily with him, who was the only one who saw him as more than an obnoxious speck. But she was gone, and immersing himself in the dark arts seemed more profitable. Since good had tried to destroy him, evil would rebuild him.
He walked over to the desk and wrote two words next to the name of the spell.
For enemies.
~***~
A few hours later, the tentative sound of a knock on the door echoed through the room. Severus tore himself away from Rosier's book and, sighing deeply, tucked it under the pillow. No repair spell worked on the frayed mattress, but he managed to tuck the springs back inside. Admittedly, lying on it was even less comfortable than before, but he didn't care. He would be back at Hogwarts soon, and then he would never set foot in Spinner's End again. After Eileen's death, nothing would keep him here anyway.
- Come in - the door swung open and his mother stood in the threshold, looking at him investigatively.
- How are you feeling? - Severus snorted in reply - Hair will grow back anyway, no need to be moody.
Snape felt like screaming and throwing the woman out the door. His mother didn't understand that this wasn't about the bloody hair themselves. He had to admit that he liked them when they were long, and although they were often the subject of insults, he somehow felt safer in them. However, the main reason why he was angry was that he had allowed father to cut them off. Lying on the table, he felt as if Tobias wasn't just getting rid of his hair, but also his dignity.
- Come on. Let's deal with it. - Eileen pointed to a chair, encouraging him to take a seat.
He had never been to a real barber, it was always his mother who cut his hair. When he was young she often forgot to do it, so he was used to longer ones. Severus not wanting to tire his sick parent more, obeyed her request. After a moment, he felt her long, cold finger on his head. Eileen had never been one to express tenderness, but in the flush of the moment she stroked her son's hair. The gesture affected him like a calming potion. Nevertheless, it was somehow a confirmation that mother did love him.
They were silent, and the silence was drowned out by the sound of clipping and Eileen's muffled cough.
- I'm done - the woman stepped back, admiring her own handiwork. She evened out the strands, cutting the back short and leaving an eye-length fringe that fell down both sides of Slytherin's face.
She looked at the mess on the floor and, taking out her wand, waved it, making the hair disappear. Mrs Snape only used magic when she had to or when she wanted to comfort her son, though she knew Severus no longer found something so mundane amazing. When he was little, even the lifting of a feather would send the boy into delight.
Severus looked into his mother's black eyes and, for the first time in a long time, the corners of his mouth lifted in something resembling a genuine smile. Tobias might have taken a lot away from them, but he couldn't bring what makes them special. The gift of magic.
Watching the door close behind Eileen, Severus realised he was going to miss her.
But, he guessed, that's what his life is supposed to be about.
~***~
The Potter family, spent this year's summer holidays, at the Bulgarian estate of Euphemia's half sister's husband. Trista was more than 20 years younger than James's mother, being the illegitimate child of their father and one of his many lovers. The witch had always been a source of trouble and quarrels with Euphemia's parents, so she moved to Bulgaria after finishing her education at Hogwarts. There, she met Martin Volkov and, after marrying him, gave birth to Asen. The sisters got close by the news of having sons of the same age. Although the same could not be said of Asen and James.
- Asen! Will you finally get out of the bloody bathroom!? - using all his strength, Potter banged sharply on the oak door and tugged furiously on the gilded handle.
Despite, having separate rooms, the cousins unfortunately had to share a bathroom. Finally, after a good five minutes of standing at the entrance and straining James' hands, the door opened, revealing a tall boy in a white towel wrapped around his narrow hips. Mockery glinted in his green-blue eyes, and drops of water trickled from his wet brown hair, always perpetually styled, running down his sculpted chest.
- Where are you in such a hurry, cousin? - Asen asked innocently and, without expecting an answer, slipped past James, bumping him 'inadvertently' with his shoulder, and headed towards his room. The smell of grass after rain, broom wax, which was hard to get rid of even after a long bath, and cheap shampoo managed to reach Potter's nostrils. Gryffindor wanted to roll his eyes with irony that someone who couldn't stand a protruding hair and crooked buttoned shirt was using something that wasn't worth more than a large set of Sugar Quills in Honeydukes.
Potter glared at his cousin's back until the boy disappeared from his sight. The holidays before seventh year had been a veritable torment for him. Not only did he have to forgo seeing his friends in favour of staying in Bulgaria, where the summer temperatures reached the seventh circle of hell, but in addition, the role of sole companion was played by his arrogant and nasty cousin, whom everyone adored. Fleamont, in particular, was very impressed with Asen's brewing skills. Potter Senior used to own a business, making and enriching himself with various potions, mainly Sleekeazy's Hair Potion. By the time James was born, he had sold the business, but still brewed, as a hobby, in the laboratory of Potter Manor. He once tried to infect his son with his love as well, but James was not interested in anything more than Quidditch and the dream of becoming an Auror.
Locking himself in the bathroom, James stripped off his clothes after preparing the water in the bath. When the citrus scent filled the room, Gryffindor stepped into the porcelain basin, feeling his tense muscles relax. He tried to console himself with the thought that the summer break would soon be over and he would finally return to Hogwarts. To be honest, he was sad that this would be his last year at the magical institution, but the fact that he would get rid of Asen, spend time with Sirius, Remus and Peter, and maybe Lily would finally agree to go on a date with him, made him feel better. A grin bloomed on his face.
It's going to be a good last year.
~***~
The Volkov family house was not as large as the Potter Manor. On the ground floor there was a spacious living room, a dining room with a fireplace connected to the Floo Network and a kitchen where only House-Elves looked in. In addition, there was a bathroom and a storage room wehere Violet and Grumpy slept. The upper floor housed the bedrooms and Martin's office.
When James came downstairs, he was greeted by the sight of a laughing Fleamont patting Asen's back in a fatherly manner. Potter clenched his fist, scowling slightly. He couldn't even eat his breakfast in peace.
- Good morning - James spoke up, putting a smile on his face. He approached Euphemia, who was sitting at the table, kissed her cheek and took a seat next to her.
- Ah James! I was just telling Asen about how his idea helped me improve my latest potion. I can show you later, if you want. - Gryffindor smiled at Fleamont and nodded slightly
- Perhaps later.
James loved and respected his father very much. From his childhood, the man had been his authority, even though he had different priorities from him. While Fleamont had been immersed in the vortex of steam and saw his son in the same way, the young Potter had always dreamed of becoming a hero. He craved fame and the gratitude of others. He also knew that the world had to be cleansed of evil, and he was perfect for that. That was why he had to pass his N.E.W.T. s with flying colours in order to become an Auror after Hogwarts.
Still, James found it hard to tolerate Fleamont's admiration for Asen. Okay, the boy may have been talented, but he didn't understand why his father couldn't see the evil lurking underneath the perpetually styled hair. Fortunately, he would soon be free of his cousin's presence.
- Welcome. We hope your night passed peacefully. - a tall dark-haired woman in a long black dress, accompanied by a man in dark blue robes, entered the dining room. Asen got up to greet his parent and the House-Elf Violent put a beautifully scented breakfast on the table at that time.
- Asen, why don't you take James into town, today? I heard, the Muggles are organising some attraction. - Euphemia asked, making Potter almost choke on the pumpkin juice he was currently drinking.
- Of course Auntie - Volkov meekly replied, lifting the corners of his mouth into a smile. Gryffindor, however, knew that he was not enjoying the older witch's request a little bit.
- But... - Potter wanted to protest, but his mother's warm gaze stopped him. He was aware that she just wanted him to have a good time.
James was sitting quietly for the rest of breakfast, barely listening to the others. He tried to cover up his disappointment as best he could, having something completely different in his plans today. He'd recently been given a brand new Nimbus 1000 by his father and all he kept dreaming about was flying and practising his Qudditch skills, although he didn't think he needed much, after all he was the best cheaser in the school. He couldn't wait to show off his new catch to his teammates. Additionally, he wanted to write back to his friend's letters, as their communication was quite limited due to the long distance. He consoled himself with the thought that he would have time to do everything after lunch. Just as he was about to get up from the table, he was stopped by his mother's wrinkled hand.
- Jamie, wait a moment. Before you and Asen disappear from our sight, we have wonderful news.
Although his parents sent him warm smiles, the satisfied expression on his cousin's face did not bode well. Trista stood behind her son, who was sitting in a chair, and placed her hands on his shoulders, her long fingers resembling claws. Euphemia's sister may have been a beautiful woman, but her way of moving and being, caused James distrust and unease.
- Asen has always been impressed with Hogwarts- she began slowly, as if relishing the sound of each letter - That is why, thanks to Fleamont, we were able to convince Headmaster Dumbledore for an inter-school exchange...
- Trista, our sons will be going to the same school together! Isn't that great James? - Euphemia exclaimed suddenly, probably unable to contain her enthusiasm at the end of the younger witch's statement.
Staring with wide-open eyes at his pleased cousin, James felt his heart stop.