Shadows.

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Don't judge me. Not until you have heard the whole story. My life was full of grey areas; nothing was black and white- a clear version of right and wrong. I tried to do the best with the hand I was given- the potion ingredients I ended up with.

You try growing up with a father who hated what you and your mother were, and with a mother who was too cowardly to leave him. She was always afraid. Afraid when she met him he would leave her if he knew what she really was, afraid of her family because of who she had fallen in love with... always afraid.

I hated him. When he found out what my mother was, he thought she was possessed- demons or a deal with the devil. He had too much pride to divorce her, so instead he decided to punish her- try to beat it out of her or whatever crazed idea his tiny brain came up with. She never fought back.

I hated that hole of a house I was forced to live in. All of the windows were boarded up so no one could see in, but that meant we couldn't see out either. It was a cage where I learned to hate muggles as small minded beings with no talents or imagination who could not and would not understand us

But then… I met her. Even at nine years old she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. As often as I could I would walk to that playground where I first saw her. It was my only escape from that house- a place where I'd had the only happy memory I can remember…

It was a rainy day, Father had come back late at night from the bar he frequented and had passed out on the couch in the living room. Despicable.

His hangover would last most of the morning and into the afternoon, so Mother took the liberty to escape outdoors with me. We went to the playground where no one else would be due to the rain which had just started falling. Usually people go inside when it rains, retreating to the depths of their homes, but not us. We went outside, trying to experience the world we were missing. While others had their comfort and their lives to return to, we were trying to find ours.

I ran to the swings, laughing eagerly in the rain. She smiled and slowly made her way over to me. She tripped a few times over her baggy jeans she always wore to conceal her bruises, and how thin she was becoming.

"Hold tight!" She whispered, as she gave the swing a shove and started pushing me. I let out an excited shout of laughter, and she laughed too. It was the first and only time I would ever hear her laugh.

After a while, she grew tired and had to sit down so I went to play in the sand, and tried to make her laugh again.

But as things go for us, our happiness could never last. Just as the rain began to let up and the mist settled in, Father came stumbling along the path. He stopped dead when he saw us and stood there at the end of the dirt road, glaring daggers at her and not saying a word.

She jumped up from the swing she was sitting on and hurried to my side. "Get up Sev. Now." She murmured hurriedly and began to drag me by my sleeve.

I wasn't afraid of him like she was and so I resisted as much as I could. I struggled against her, but she had that wild look in her eyes and she pulled me right along side of her. Still being led by one arm, we approached Father on the path. He was standing there, still as stone, watching us.

She refused to look up at him as we neared where he stood, but not I. I couldn't help but stare into his black, glinting eyes. I could tell he was getting aggravated as I continued to look up at him, but I did not back down.

He became so angry at the lack of fear and respect I showed him to the point where, as Mother and I passed where he was standing, he raised his left arm and struck me across the face.

As his arm made contact with my skin, a pulse of anger coursed through me that I was unfamiliar with and he yelped, having received a shock from touching me and pulled his hand away. I tumbled backwards from the blow, tearing my arm out of Mother's grip and fell onto the damp dirt path. Father examined his hand, snarling at me all the while.

I slowly got to my feet, surprised by the fear in his eyes. I glanced at Mother, who was standing just ahead of us, unsure of what to do. By the time I returned my gaze to Father, the fear had disappeared only to be replaced by the cold, hard malice he ruled his life by.

"You will pay for that boy," he spat. "Get back to the house. I will deal with your disrespect there."

Mother gave me no time to reply. She grabbed my arm again and half ran; half dragged me back to our shell of a house. Once inside, she slammed the door shut and leaned against it, trying to buy time before Father made his way back.

"Quick," she said, straining to hear if anyone was approaching. "Hide somewhere, anywhere. And whatever you do, do not come out until I call for you. I will not let him hurt you. Go! Now!"

I turned from her and ran back into the depths of the house. The nearest room I came to was a bathroom and I quickly closed the door behind me. Looking around for a place to hide, I ran to the sink and opened the cabinet underneath. It was empty save for a few extra supplies which I hurriedly pushed them to a corner and climbed inside. Even at eight years old I was small for my age, but it was still a tight fit. If I had been any bigger I could not have stayed hidden in there for so long.

The darkness that surrounded me once I closed the doors was frightening at first, but I was used to darkness. I stayed confined there with nothing but the spiders for company and began to think back on the events of the day. My thoughts immediately returned to the anger I had felt, the energy that had coursed through me. Had I actually done magic? What else could have caused that fear to briefly appear in Father's eyes… I smiled to myself, happy that my first act of magic had been in retaliation to Father. I fought back.

I don't know how long I crouched in the small cabinet, but it was well past sunset when Mother finally called through the house for me.

I climbed stiffly out of the cabinet and almost fell over as my legs tried to support my weight. I opened the bathroom door hesitantly, and stepped into the hallway. Mother came around the corner from the living room and pulled me into a hug. Her face was tear-streaked and her clothes had been torn.

"Sev." She breathed. "Sev." She breathed. "If he ever tries to hurt you again..."
"Shhh… it's okay Mom, really."
"No sweetheart, it is not okay. He has no reason to try to hurt you, and I will not let him harm you ever again. I promise."

After that night, Father never touched or spoke to me again. He never even looked at me. It was like I had ceased to exist to him anymore. I didn't mind though. I liked being left to myself. I was free to do whatever I wished during the days, though as soon as it was dusk, I had to be home. Mother was afraid of the dark and what it could bring. Her mind was fragile so I followed her wishes. I never wanted to give her cause to worry: to come home and see that frantic look in her eyes.

I spent most of my days at the playground where it all began. I stayed in the shadows, behind the surrounding bushes. I had seen first hand how muggles treated us, and I did not want to interact with them, play on the swings or participate in trivial muggle play. I only wanted to be outside, away from the house, to escape the darkness that encroached on my life.

Little did I know the playground was not finished altering the course of my life.

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AN: phew! In case you didn't pick up on it, this is a story about Severus Snape's life, and the italics was flashback memory. I plan to take this story all the way through his life, and I just want to get an idea on the first chapter so far... see what I need to work on, what everyone thinks. So let me know and I'll do my best to get chapter two up within the next two weeks!