Chapter 1: Spider Tail Alley
It was always like this—always!
In a dingy, damp room that spoke volumes of neglect, a man with a hooked nose was bellowing at a cowering woman, his words laced with vile curses such as "worthless" and "trash". As the woman's face grew increasingly grim, not a hint of resistance surfaced.
A boy with black hair hid in a corner, silently weeping. His hands were clamped over his ears, desperately trying to escape the all-too-familiar yet ever-painful scene.
Without question, he had failed.
The quarrel raged on, the man not even deigning to glance at him, continuing his verbal assault on the boy's mother.
Snape didn't even want to call this hooked-nosed man his father.
He couldn't understand.
He couldn't fathom why his witch mother would cower before such a Muggle—a man unworthy of wielding a wand.
The boy's hands clenched involuntarily, his thoughts drifting to the drawer in his room.
His mother's wand was there.
Just one curse...
Yes, just a simple, single curse...
Hadn't he read about many in his mother's books? Even the simplest of curses could teach this man a lesson, to show that wizards are not to be trifled with by Muggles.
Wizards were meant to reign above Muggles!
The boy's fists tightened and untightened, the urge within growing stronger.
The man noticed Snape's odd behavior. Without thinking, he grabbed an object and hurled it at him, cursing, "You damn waste, always eating the food I work hard for! You claim to practice magic, don't you? Go on then! Steal, rob, bring back some money!"
Snape, caught off guard, felt a sharp pain in his arm. His mother hastily grabbed her husband, pleading, "Don't hit him, he is just a child, please don't."
Snape's fiery resolve was doused.
Cradling his arm, he hurriedly sidestepped the pair and fled through the front door.
Yes, he had run away.
Just as cowardly as his mother.
Snape wandered aimlessly onto the street, devoid of purpose.
This was Spider Tail Alley, a district in Cokeworth.
A sordid place, a slum, a heap of refuse.
Here, Snape saw no glimmer of hope, much like in his home.
Perhaps the magical life at Hogwarts awaited him, but that was some time away, and his impatience was growing.
He wanted to escape, to flee from the darkness of this life.
The miseries born from an unhappy home were immensely difficult to mend, more so when a child bore the brunt.
For children are powerless, their means to alter their plight, negligible. They can only endure passively, suffer the negative emotions at home, and grow up in circumstances utterly despicable.
No matter how hard they try to distract themselves, they cannot escape their sorrowful fate.
For children always have to return.
To that place outsiders call "home", but in their hearts, they deem "hell".
Snape moved blindly through the labyrinthine alleys, past rows of dilapidated houses, over cobbled streets.
After some time, Snape snapped back to reality.
He remembered the girl he had noticed for so long, her dazzling red hair, and her joyous smile.
Would she be there today?
Would she still be with her ignorant and annoying sister?
Would she... still be swinging?
Snape didn't know the answers, but his steps quickened.
Even if it was just a sliver of hope, even if there was only the slightest possibility, he had to try.
To seek out that single gleam in the unending darkness.
Beyond the dense shrubs, in a nearly deserted little playground, two girls were on the swings.
The smaller girl swung higher and higher, surpassing even the older one, and Snape, concealed in the bushes, watched with a sense of relief, an expression of longing on his face.
"Lily, stop that!" the older girl suddenly shrieked.
But the younger girl let go at the peak of her swing, soaring into the air.
Not descending slowly, but truly flying.
She laughed heartily as she plunged towards the sky, not crashing down onto the tarmac but gliding through the air for an unusually long time, before alighting gracefully.
"Mum told you not to do that!"
Petunia halted her swing with a screech, then hopped off, hands on hips, "Mum said you shouldn't, Lily!"
"But I'm fine." Lily said, still giggling, her laughter reaching Snape, who couldn't help but crack a rare smile.
"Petunia, look at this, look what I can do."
Petunia glanced around; the empty playground held only the two of them. She approached, a mix of curiosity and disapproval in her eyes.
Lily spread her hands, and petals danced in her palms, opening and closing like a peculiar, multi-layered oyster.
"Stop it!" Petunia screamed.
"I didn't do anything to you." Lily retorted, but she still crushed the flower and threw it to the ground.
"It's wrong." Petunia said, her gaze lingering on the fallen petals, "How do you do it?" she asked, her voice tinged with undeniable yearning.
"It should be pretty obvious." Perhaps due to the day's awful events or a spur-of-the-moment impulse, combined with his disdain for Petunia's Muggle ignorance, Snape didn't just observe silently as usual. He leaped out from the bushes.
Petunia screamed and ran towards the swings. Lily, though startled, stayed put.
Snape seemed to regret his appearance immediately, perhaps fearing that his presence would drive Lily away from the playground forever, away from his only light.
But he didn't flee again, and it was the first time he'd been this close to Lily. Snape looked at her, a faint blush spreading over his sallow cheeks.
"What's obvious?" Lily asked, puzzled but curious.
Snape was both nervous and excited, absentmindedly fiddling with his oversized, worn coat. He glanced at Petunia lingering by the swing, whispering, "I know what you are."
"What do you mean?" asked Lily.
"You are… You're a witch." Snape said softly.
Lily felt insulted, especially under such ludicrous assertion.
"That's a very rude thing to say to someone!"
She turned and strode towards her sister, head held high.
"No!" Panic surged in Snape, his face flushing as he chased after the two girls. His flapping sleeves made him look like a foolish bat, but he didn't shed the coat, perhaps to avoid revealing the maternity dress beneath.
The sisters regarded him with equal disapproval, each holding onto a swing pole as if it were a safe zone in a game of tag.
"You are." Snape addressed Lily, "You are a witch. I've been watching you. There's nothing wrong with it. My mother's a witch, I'm a wizard."
Petunia's laughter was cold as ice.
"A wizard!" she shrieked, "I know who you are, you're that Snape boy! They live by the river in Spider Tail Alley." She cautioned Lily with evident warning, "Why are you spying on us?"
"I wasn't spying." Snape said, agitated and uneasy under the bright sun, his hair appearing filthy, "I wouldn't want to spy on you," he sneered, "you're a Muggle."
Petunia clearly didn't comprehend the term, but she understood the tone.
"Lily, come on, let's go!" she said sharply. Lily promptly heeded her sister and turned to leave, her eyes glaring at Snape, clearly catching the sentiment in his tone.
Snape watched their retreating figures, his gaze lingering on Lily, his heart filled with anguish and disappointment. He had planned this moment for some time, and now all those beautiful imaginings were fleeing from him, everything reverting back to the oppressive darkness.
"He's not wrong."
Suddenly, a voice sounded from afar, startling all three, who turned to look at the bushes.
A little boy had appeared, his worn clothing indicating a less than affluent background, but unlike Snape, his jacket and shirt were neat and clean.
Floating next to him at shoulder height, as if by magic, were two daffodils.
Perhaps it was the boy's convincing appearance, or perhaps the sisters were stunned by the daffodils' enchanting trick, but they stopped and stared open-mouthed at the boy who had emerged.
Snape's face turned beet red. This boy had come from the very bushes he had been hiding in, possibly aware of how long Snape had been watching. His lies could be exposed at any moment.
But the boy didn't even glance at Snape. He walked up to the sisters, the daffodils drifting precisely to hover in front of their chests.
The girls exchanged looks, then each tentatively took a daffodil. Petunia's reaction was one of greater shock; it was the first time she had received such attention in Lily's presence.
"Forgive my intrusion on this little... gathering." The boy's smile held a trace of irony, as if he too found the term unsuitable. He continued, "Nevertheless, I deemed it necessary to clarify a few things for this gentleman," he nodded at Snape, looking earnestly at Lily, "You are indeed a witch, just like I am a wizard."
Lily instinctively wanted to object but paused as the daffodil in her hand rose into the air, hovered between them, and then gently descended back into her palm.
"This is not an insult, just as 'Muggle' denotes those naturally without magical ability. However, I must admit, the gentleman's tone was less than pleasant, hence the misunderstanding."
Lily contemplated the daffodil thoughtfully, while Petunia, after an internal struggle, couldn't help but ask the boy, "What about me? Am I a witch too?"
Lily looked at her sister in surprise, a stark contrast to Petunia's usual demeanor. Petunia recoiled slightly but still watched the boy expectantly.
The boy approached Petunia, shaking his head in sympathy. Before she could sink further into disappointment, he explained, "While magical abilities are a natural gift, they are also a curse."
"A curse?" The sisters echoed, startled.
"Yes, exactly, a curse." The boy nodded solemnly, "If misused, magic can harm the wielder or those around them. But for now, there's no need for concern," he reassured. "To prevent such mishaps, we attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry at the age of eleven to learn the proper use of our abilities, to protect ourselves,"
He turned to Petunia, "and our families."
"Moreover, the learning process is fraught with dangers. A small mistake in casting a spell or a failed potion experiment can be perilous, requiring supervision by experienced wizards and immediate medical care if necessary."
The boy painted a grim picture of magic, recounting horrors that made Petunia grateful to be a Muggle and filled Lily with dread.
"Don't listen to him!" Snape suddenly blurted after a long silence, "He's just…"
"I believe!" The boy raised his voice, cutting Snape off, "This gentleman will explain further if you wish. It's quite necessary."
"For both witches and Muggles."
The boy turned to Snape, his tone growing serious, "After all, I came over after hearing the argument, not because I was nearby from the start," he added, unnecessarily embellishing his story.
Snape's movements froze, face turning the color of liver.
"Of course, wizards don't always face such risks, and Muggles can also use magical items from our world. It might seem unfair, but that's not entirely true; each has its own wonders."
After these words, the boy turned to leave, leaving the three behind.
Just before entering the bushes, he turned, "Oh, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Sanster."
He tipped his cap with a finger, smiling gently again.
"Callan Sanster."
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