Sorting Clothes, Sorting Memories
Author:EzraDavencroft
Rating:PG-ish
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, I'm not J.K., Blah-de-blah
Harry Potter was six years old, sorting clothes into piles according to color. It was
late, and as he quietly made his way to the laundry room, his arms full of hand-me-down
rags, graying underpants and socks and shirts, he passed his uncle, asleep on the couch.
The television blared updates on the stock exchange. Harry moved carefully. He knew
that his uncle would be angry if he woke up and saw Harry up at this hour, but his clothes
were filthy and Aunt Petunia wouldn't wash them with the rest of the family laundry.
Harry wondered what he had done to them, for he knew that their treatment of him had to
have some reason behind it. He loaded his clothes into the washing machine and tried to
think of what, as a baby, he could have done to these people to make them hate him so
much. He thought it was probably one of those things that just happened around him
sometimes. Even in his head, Harry would not let himself say the word 'magic.'
Severus Snape withdrew from the boy's mind as quickly as he could.
"That is enough for tonight Potter." He said quietly.
Hours later, Severus tossed and turned in bed, nightmares of a scene he hadn't
thought of in years running through his head.
Severus was six years old. Daddy was asleep on the couch, surrounded by bottles.
The television blared with some old western film, but Severus knew that Daddy wouldn't
wake up anytime soon. Mummy was asleep too. Severus knew that she would wake up
and help him, but he looked at her bruised face and decided not to wake her. Instead, he
decided to do his own laundry. He had seen Mummy work the machine that Daddy
insisted she use instead of 'doing it her way.' It seemed easy enough. He gathered up his
clothes and started putting his threadbare underpants and his clothes that he knew were
strange into the machine. Daddy always got angry when he and Mummy talked about
Severus' clothes. Daddy said that Mummy dressed Severus in girl's clothes, but they
didn't have the money to buy him new ones, and sometimes when he outgrew his clothes,
Severus had to wear Mummy's. Daddy never gave Severus any of his clothes, and Daddy
always got angry when he talked about money. Daddy got angry a lot. When the clothes
were done, Severus was horrified at the grayness of his formerly white underpants and
socks. He hadn't done it right! Daddy would blame Mummy, and it was all his fault!
Severus took the clothes into his room and hid them. He sobbed silently, careful not to be
too loud and wake Mummy. He wondered why Daddy hated them so much. It wasn't
their fault that they could do things! Even in his head, Severus never said 'magic.'
Severus woke with a start. Perhaps he didn't give the Potter boy enough credit.
While he had survived this long due, mostly, to luck, he had been able to sort his clothes
at age six. Thinking of the aftermath of his laundry fiasco, Severus wished that it was a
skill he had possessed at that age. His mother hadn't recovered. Severus had gladly worn
her hand-me-downs by the time he was seven. His father had made sure that they were all
that was left to remember her by. After seven years at Hogwarts, and a brand on his arm,
Severus made sure that his mother was the last thing that flashed through his father's
tortured mind before his death. After being made aware of their similarities like a slap to
the face, Severus noted that the continued existence of the boy's relatives marked their
differences. If the boy took a turn for Dark… Severus decided to keep an even more
watchful eye on Harry Potter from now on.