This is for you Leanna! I'm SO sorry this isn't EiriTohma like you wanted...but it was turning out so horribly that I couldn't possibly give you it for a present. I hope you...like this story alright. :(

Love, Ariel

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Love, Severus

The pages were musty, but Severus didn't care. He pressed his fingers against its bindings, his lips rising into a tiny smirk. His crayon traced a heart into the forgotten pages of his mother's diary. She had given up writing in it long ago, but Severus remembered her, her and her fingers moving across the pages.

He remembered when she had stopped too. The broken glass stuck into her skin as she crumbled onto the stairs. "I have nothing good…left to record." Her voice was like a broken radio.

Severus had wondered if he was a good thing, and like a smart boy he eventually figured out that he wasn't.

Wind chimes hung over a desk, and letters were stuck to dirty windowpanes. Obvious Valentine's day cards were littered among them, and Severus couldn't help but stare at them. They were alien beings in a house charged with anger and violence. He remembered a time he had placed his thin fingers against one of them. It had felt soft.

Her room was powerful and violent and gentle all in one, but she never went into it anymore, because she had stopped being all three of those things. The books stacked uneasily against the wall were sinister, but he adored the way he was drawn to their power. Dust lined a carpet that sparked occasionally, like it had once had a further purpose.

In all honesty, he shouldn't have been in his mother's room. He'd needed paper, and he didn't know where else to get some. In further honesty, he shouldn't have opened his mother's diary. But he already knew what lay inside of it, even though he'd never looked before.

There would be desperation and obsession, only more hopeful than the women he knew. And there would be confessions of love, confessions that would make him sick to his stomach.

But right now Severus was concentrating, and concentrating hard, and sketching one more doomed whisper onto forgotten pages. He hated muggles. He hated his drunken father and his two lumbering aunts, who'd stare at him coldly whenever his father would come to visit.

"Get him out of here," one or the other would always breathe to his father, clutching her dirty children and dragging them back into the trailer. "That boy of yours is off."

His father watched him suspiciously. "…Nothing a good beating won't fix," he finally mumbled, winking at the small boy beside him before shoving him towards his truck. But Severus knew that he was serious.

Severus always waited outside in the Ford, so he was never sure why he was brought along. When they would drive back is father would turn on muggle music, and the blaring of death metal would send them home. When he had been younger he had been afraid of the muggles watching from their rotted porches as they pulled into their driveway. By now, his fear had turned into revulsion.

But Lily was better than normal muggles and mudbloods. She stood above them all on an invisible glass floor, and he wasn't sure how she had gotten there. A casual observer could point out something cliché, like a little bit of kindness can go a long way. But to a boy in an unfriendly world, the little girl across the way was something incredible. Her hand was warm in his.

Severus was finally feeling a tiny bit of that elusive feeling somebody felt when they realized somebody cared about them, and he wanted more of it. He was greedy for her love, but he didn't have a clue as to how to actually obtain it.

But his mother's Valentine's day cards shone in the sunlight, and his fascination with them had brought forth an unskilled representation.

His message lay scrawled across the page, and he rescued it by ripping it out. The diary thudded to the floor, and with a wince he picked it up and shoved it back into that forbidden drawer. Rarely, Severus would find to guts to reach his hand in farther, and find treasures, which he kept. Treasures like withered fingers, strange black powders, and the occasional, and less exciting, dried herb.

Softening his breathing, the boy paused, making sure that nobody would discover him leaving. The entire house was silent, but instead of finding it eerie, young Severus felt relief.

Hugging his present to his chest, he unbuttoned several buttons on his coat. His hairy pocket swallowed his offering whole. Despite his hatred of his muggle clothes, Severus loved that pocket—it held all manner of contraptions, most of them wizarding treasures bestowed on him by (or stolen from) his mother.

Severus scampered past the dingy kitchen, where his mother was hard at work over the kitchen stove. Her bone-thin arms moved robotically, like she'd turned off all functions that were not essential. Cut the carrots. Chop the onions. Pour them into the soup. All done the muggle way.

Frustration tore through his chest. For a moment, he stood there, trying to control his rage. With a shake of his head, he started down the stairs, hands running along the ancient banister. Severus knew to step quietly. The rickety staircase moaned under his weight.

It was rough, and unfinished. His father didn't find it imperative to fix things that wouldn't cause immediate damage or outrage. He skipped over the step that had fallen in—an expert at avoiding the pitfalls of his own home.

For being so young, Severus was good at many things that other children had yet to learn. With frightening adeptness he was able to hide from unwanted and dangerous attention. With unusual skill he shut down his mind and became empty. Hiding his scars was a necessity. And he was very good at spying on people, because he had a knack for being invisible.

But Severus was not accomplished in speech or manners. The exposure he had had to human interaction was rough, cold and barren. With a stuttering voice he stumbled through life, head down and greasy hair shielding his face from danger. He liked to keep his hands in his pockets, but he wasn't sure why.

His mother didn't notice his escape. Her desire to keep him in the house was some sort of motherly instinct he didn't understand, because he was much safer outside. Bullies left him alone, now. He took satisfaction in the dark magic his anger spawned, and had a giggling fit when one of the big fat ones "mysteriously" fell over with a broken leg. It was with bitter disappointment that he realized he couldn't figure out reproduce it. The terror in the boy's eyes had brought him satisfaction.

The breeze felt good against his ankles and face, and soon he broke into an ungainly run. Though it was rather cold (it was nearing October) Severus felt the usual relief as his house faded into the distance. Despite being sickly and weak, the exhilaration he got was far too amazing for him to stop.

It made him feel happy, and it reminded him that next year he'd be gone. He'd be on that train and he'd be waving his mother goodbye. The train would be going faster and faster, so much faster than he had ever run. And it would spirit him away to some place magical. Not the normal type of magic. Special magic that couldn't be preformed with a wand.

Severus was going to meet friends. He was going to go to class with Lily and they were going to watch the Quidditch matches together. As much as he'd adored the book his mother had given him, which featured a huge stadium full of cheering fans, Severus had never been to a Quidditch match before. He was sure they were grand.

The park was nearing, and he was running out of breath. Air ripped through his throat, and he slowed down, hand clutching at his jacket. His chest pounded, and he leaned against a tree, back rubbing against unfriendly bark.

With a low growl his stomach voiced its discontent, and the boy's hand moved down to hold his aching gut. He was torn between dinner with his father or an evening of freedom. But at the moment, he was much more intent on searching for Lily. What if she wasn't even around today?

Severus was used to controlling negative emotions, pouring them into that dark place in his heart that held everything unspeakable. The squirmy feeling in his stomach was normal, but it was an exciting fear, full of hope and expectation—and an affection that was not drenched in bitterness and anger. It was nearly too much for him to stand, and he wiggled a bit, squirming and biting his stunted fingernails.

He hoped that Tuney was not around today. Tuney always ruined everything, and he despised her stupid and simple-minded opinions on magic. But what could a muggle be expected to understand anyway? The muggles he knew were coarse and disgustingly slow, and he spread these attributes generously over their entire species.

Pausing, and trying to keep still, Severus bit his lip. He summed every ounce of the courage that he possessed, and wandered into the park. The grass was discolored with brown, and he crunched the autumn leaves down underneath his feet.

Despite his narrow but intense affection for Lily, Severus had a morbid side hidden behind those soulful black eyes. He enjoyed the destruction he wrought as the leaves crackled and crumbled. He liked it when he'd overflow with rage and an occasional bug at would explode at his feet. The time he'd gotten a hold of his mother's potions, he had poured one upon a rat, and had watched it squirm and screech as it incinerated.

The pain in the black around his eye and the bump on his head was somehow alleviated at that crucial moment when it died. But Severus was not without a heart. That night he'd curled up under his sheets and wondered about things he'd never wondered about before…life and death and why his tiny world was the way it was. And as he dreamed, the rat burned again, its beady eyes bulging with fear. He awoke sweaty and with a dull ache in his heart.

However, he was fascinated with death, and sometimes he couldn't help experimenting with its power. Severus liked it, sometimes, when he was the cause of pain, and he often pulled his mother's dark books off the walls, intent on discovering their purpose. Somewhere inside them rested power and destruction—he could feel it when he ran his hand over the bindings and whispered the spells out loud. It was glorious.

Shuffling into the playground, he glanced around, making sure he was not in the presence of somebody unfriendly. There was nobody there…at all. With a shrug, he sat on one of the swings and pushed himself back and forth. The sharp creak of rusty hinges cut into the silence. Heavy with disappointment, he decided to wait for her anyway.

The sun sunk lower in the sky, and he swung a little bit harder, broken shoes flapping against the ground. He supposed he'd already missed dinner, and he shuddered to think about going back home. Now he'd have to summon the courage to climb the tree into the attic again, and slink into his own room when everybody else was asleep.

He prayed to nothing he wouldn't get caught.

For awhile he swung as fast as he could, seat jumping beneath him. The wind streamed past, and his coat billowed like a tattered flag. Higher, and higher! He wished he had a broom that would fly so far that he'd never have to go back to his house again.

He would fly away with Lily, and they would sit on a beach together somewhere, and she would laugh at his witty jokes and be amazed by his dark magic. Closing his eyes, the boy soared through the night sky, lips twisting into a rare smile. A grin, a laugh! An active imagination fueled him forward, and for a few moments, he dwelled in his fantasies.

The ecstasy of make-believe had to wear off after awhile, though. Severus didn't know any witty jokes, and he certainly didn't know how to swim. The swing screeched to a stop, and he shivered as the air grew colder. Maybe he never would, but he knew someday, he'd be powerful and respected. Lily would be proud of him, someday. She'd like all the wicked spells he was going to create once he figured out how. Severus had them all planned…explosions, suffocation, disease… They'd be powerful together, him and her.

The night was beginning to arise, and one by one the stars marched into their places.

Fear drove his heart now—going home and staying out were hard to weigh against each other. He also wasn't sure about showing up at his house in the morning. Would his chances be better or worse? Frowning, he slipped from the swing and curled up on the ground, convincing himself that soon he'd brave the possible wrath of his father.

Burying his hands in his coat, Severus wished quite fervently that the soles of his shoes were not coming off, as his toes were beginning to get cold. He kept telling himself that he should go back, that he should climb the tree and deal with anything that happened afterwards. He was just holding off something inevitable, even if it didn't happen all that week, or even a few days into the next.

But Severus wasn't used to being brave. He was used to being afraid and angry, and he was used to his fear driving him to trick and to lie and to steal. Things were easier that way. And right now his fear told him to stay put, even just a little bit longer.

So he did. His moments of bravery usually shone through when he wasn't thinking very well. Hexing his father may have been brave, but it also had been rather stupid. His eyelids drooped, and he ground his teeth together in an attempt to stay awake. The swing creaked ominously as a gust of wind blew over him.

He wanted to be warm. He wanted to be…not here. But he was drifting away. The broom and the near-mythical Hogwarts and her, and Lily swam through his head. He was tired and drained, but mostly tired. The last thing Severus remembered hearing was the call of a raven, throaty and harsh. His arms relaxed and his face became calm, less tense.

A shabby boy slept through the night next to a swing. As it creaked and moaned, he dreamt of green eyes and the girl who owned them. The girl who liked to swing on that very swing, and then fly. He was flying with her this time.

-------

"Sev…Sev!" Somebody whispered, shaking him softly but with a firm hand. "Sev!"

He started, and noticed with a jolt of fear that he was shaking and quivering. Drawing air through his chattering teeth, he sat up and caught Lily's eyes. His ears were freezing! Pressing his semi-warm fingers against them, he managed a smile for her.

"Were you out here all night?" Her lips pursed, and she stuck her teeth out to bite her bottom lip like she so often did. Her voice was torn between worry and exasperation. "What are you doing here?"

Opening his mouth, Severus paused, and tried to think through the haze. He was freezing, and his fingers were twitching like they were slowly breaking down. "Y…yeah…" It was what he could manage, but he was becoming all too aware of how very cold he was and how very sore his throat felt.

Balling her hands into fists, Lily shook her head and looked at him with motherly eyes. They spoke of a young girl who tried ever so hard. "Well there is no doubt you are going to catch a cold!"

"Uhhh…yeah." he mumbled, looking down at the ground. "…Sorry." The word was rough and unusual on his tongue, and he wasn't really sure what he was sorry about, but he was. Gulping, Severus examined the ground. It was sticky from dew, and in passing he realized he must be quite sticky as well.

With a shaky sigh, Lily hugged his arm, and they stood up together, abet a bit shakily. "You should come to my house and get warmed up! My mom can make soup—"

"No!" he gasped, backing away from her, shielding his face behind mangy hair. "No…no…I can't." The house Lily lived in must be so wonderful, and it came with a mother who would make soup for a stranger, no less. A muggle mother, and a muggle house, both far better than his. Shaking his head, he trembled with distaste and shame.

"Sev. You don't have anywhere better to go right now." Stepping towards him, she slid her hand into his, and smiled. "Come on."

A blush crept over his sallow features, and his hand trembled. "Your…muggle…" The word sounded quite distasteful, and Severus twisted his mouth into an ugly frown. "…parents will think I'm…will think lowly of me." The words were spit out, and he knew he never wanted some muggle people, in their happy little home, to see him, so poor and so ragged. He was a wizard, and better than them by far.

Shaking her head, Lily removed her hand, much to Severus' distress. "My parents are great people!" She appeared confused and disheartened, but it was obvious she wasn't new to this kind of behavior.

Eyes widening, Severus shook his head. "No, no, I mean…" He didn't know what he meant. Looking as confused as she was, he shuffled around a bit. It was obviously hard for him to grasp the complexity of the situation. Lily stood apart from her drab muggle background. Why didn't she realize she wasn't one of them? She was better. Better than everyone.

Taking in a lungful of air, Lily said in controlled tones, "Come on. My parents aren't like that."

Her friend looked doubtful, but as her features changed from frustrated to upset, he conceded.

-----

Kicking his legs half-heartedly, the boy hid his face from the plump, cheery woman fussing over him. Examining the floor, which was quite clean, he found himself gasping for air. For a few seconds, he felt like he was going to hypervenalate. Even though he was warming up, he felt like his insides were cold as ice, brittle and about to break. The muggle woman was full of questions, and more fuss was being made about him than ever had been made before.

"Honey, aren't your parents looking for you? They must be worried. Should I call them?" She wrung her hands and tried to smile. No, that was one of the worst things the muggle could possibly think of to do right now!

"No!" The fervor in Severus' voice was nearly painful in its intensity. Looking around like a trapped thief, he finally managed a flimsy lie. "My parents are always working. I-I mean…they are working…right now. So nobody's home."

"Awww," she whispered, bustling around her oven. It shone. Turning around, she examined him, with sickening pity in her eyes. "Are you sure you wouldn't like a bath? I mean…" Lily's mother trailed off at the look he gave her.

"But where would I get a bath from?" he sputtered, mind racing and fingers jittery on his knees. The need to escape, as soon as possible, was overpowering him. Toes trailing along the floor, he blushed as they scuffed perfect white tiles. His mother would be angry and disappointed if she found out he was in the same house as muggle, and his father might get mad about anything.

Is our house not good enough for you, huh? Huh? Severus shivered.

Lily watched him, and when he turned to her for help, she smiled a bit sadly.

Didn't she understand how incredibly horrible this was? And it didn't help that their kitchen looked like it had come out of a magazine. Jealousy knit into his chest, raw and powerful, until he reminded himself that it was Lily who lived here. Lily deserved all these things, yes she did. He rubbed his nose against his sleeve.

The look in the muggle woman's eyes was mystifying and somewhat terrifying. "Here you are dear. Have some soup, and some corn. And I'm sure your parents would unders—"

"N—I don't need a bath!" Examining his grimy fingernails, he could feel the grime and the grease from his hair sliding over his face. But he lit up at the sight of food. Grasping the spoon in a fist, he began shoveling the soup into his mouth with a maniacal intensity. For a moment, he paused, looking like he was contemplating one of life's great mysteries.

The corn was gone about a minute later, and it was only after he was finished that he noticed that the muggle had snuck away into the next room. He rubbed his arm over his mouth and sat still. He felt suspicious. Glancing at Lily, he noticed she had paused too, and they both became perfect statues as Lily's parents began to argue in low but heated tones.

"You are overreacting," a low, calm voice rumbled, sounded very distracted and a bit annoyed. "You met the boy about half an hour ago."

"Tom," the female muggle began in a huff, "you know I work with children. I have been trained to—" Her voice was getting higher, more passionate. "He shows symptoms of being neglected, and he looks like he's being neg—"

"We should not be judging anything about this boy when we've never even met his parents." There was an agitated rustle of what both children supposed were newspapers. "Stop it, Gladies. Let's not judge our neighbors. You always think—"

"What? That I should do things about problems that other people ignore?"

But Severus was no longer listening. Lily looked frightened, and he knew it was because of the look on his face. "No," he mouthed to her frantically, but he wasn't sure what to do. The horror of somebody reporting him to some muggle organization, some charity that made people feel better about their lives, was way too much for him to handle.

His father would be furious! Severus had no idea how these organizations were supposed to function, and the only logical conclusion he could piece together in this alien world was that when his family found out he'd be in terrible trouble. Hugging himself, he curled inward, as if that would offer him some protection.

He needed a way out before they found a way to "help" him, which would really make his life hell. "Muggle…and…wizard people…can't find out about each other!" he whispered to Lily. "I'll get in so much trouble!" It was true! He wasn't lying to her, no, he was just connecting two sentences that shouldn't go together.

Severus never contemplated lies, and the contemplation of such a small one confused him, especially in such a moment of panic.

Nodding, Lily looked at him and gulped, pressing her fingers into her dress. With a little guilt, he realized she had believed him utterly.

The muggle woman came back into the room, and Severus now regarded her and something big and ominous, even an enemy. And he was on her sacred grounds.

"Where do you live, dear?" She asked, her voice dripping with sweetness.

There was a long pause, and the cornered boy glanced desperately at the only one who could help him out of this horrible mess. The person who'd gotten him into it too, but he readily threw the blame on the members of her family.

"Severus…just got put in a home yesterday. He wasn't used to it…so he ran away." Lily looked like she was new to the game, and it also looked like lying did not make her happy. Hiding her head from her mom, she shrugged.

The muggle woman's eyes softened, and she shone with some strange holy light. Then, she smiled. Severus contemplated this strange person, who seemed to get happy about the weirdest things. Furrowing his brow, he decided that she had to have some type of alternative motive.

"Do you need a ride back to your foster family?" She took his plates briskly. "It wouldn't be a problem at all if you did! And…" A pause. "I'm sure your new home will be good for you."

"…No." The relief was immense, and he felt a flood of gratitude. Glancing at Lily, he squirmed with worry when he realized she still had her face hidden. "I…I mean I don't need a ride."

Lily's mother looked quite pleased with herself as she shoved a packet of "M&Ms" into his hands. He distinctly heard her mutter as they left, "Poor boy."

Severus was sure he never wanted to go back there again, but he did pocket the candy with relish.

-----

Lily put her hands behind her back, pushing her fingertips against each other. "I'm sorry, Sev. I just wanted to help." When she looked up, he noticed that her lips were quivering. There were tears in her eyes.

"It's okay!" He gasped, grabbing one of her arms and stuttered incoherently. "Don't—don't cry! Please…don't cry." Fumbling in his pocket, he removed the M&Ms and ripped them from their package. Several spilled to the ground, and he ignored them, intent on easing her flow of tears. "It's my fault!" The words were choked out of him—normally he said the opposite. He shouldn't have lied to her, but he was too afraid to say it. He wished on everything out there that she would calm down…be alright….

But Lily merely shook her head, pushing the M&Ms away. A few more fell, and they bounced along the ground, almost as if they were trying to escape the scene. "No! I'm sorry that I almost got you into such bad trouble!" The tears were running down her cheeks now, and her face was flushed. "I wouldn't…wouldn't want them to take you to Azkaban…"

Severus paused, bitterly anguished. A moment of pure greed took over him, and he considered staying silent. Nobody said anything for a long time, and Lily kept crying. Her beautiful face was streaked with tears.

"No, I lied!" It was wrenched from his gut. "I wouldn't…get in trouble with the Ministry. I was just…afraid of what my parents…afraid of…" He cringed and his voice faded into a mumble as her lips twisted into a frown.

"You're hopeless!" Lily sobbed, sinking onto the pavement and burying her head in her arms. "Simply hopeless." Her hands tightened around her legs, and he felt like his heart was going to burst apart. "They would have helped you, Sev! I want to help you but I can't!"

There was a pause, and for Severus it was like everything in the world has stopped. Sinking down beside the hunched figure, the boy tried to touch her arm and was shoved away.

Kneeling on the ground, he fumbled to undo the buttons of his giant coat. To his distress the present he had so lovingly constructed was now bent, damp and a bit smudged. Pressing it against the wool in an attempt to revive the remains, he pushed the mangled card into her face. "I made this…for you." His normally dour voice was husky and soft. "That's why I was there at the swings."

Looking up, Lily gazed at the presented gift with astonishment, shocked out of her tears. Taking it slowly, and a bit doubtfully, she turned it right side up and read his message in a hushed voice.

"You make me happy when nothing else does. Let's be best friends forever, Severus." There were a few badly drawn hearts and a random assortment of Easter eggs surrounding the message.

It was so sappy and fake when read out loud that he looked down with embarrassment. "It sounds so stupid," he grumbled, voice back to its usual dull state. "It sucks." He felt it was very necessary to avoid her eyes—they might have been far too painful to see.

"It doesn't suck." Lily snapped, a bit over-enthusiastically. She rubbed her eyes, and let out a deep breath. Her skirt touched the pavement as she leaned towards him, pressing her hand into his. Holding the gift to her chest, she lowered her voice and whispered, "We'll be best of friends, always."