Chapter 1
Severus had always known he was different. He had known, even before his mother confirmed it, that he was a wizard. Magic ran through his veins, an undeniable part of him, and he was determined to find someone else like him in the dreary little town of Spinner’s End. Surely, there had to be another—someone who could understand what it meant to carry this secret.
But searching for magic had never been his top priority. Not when he had a three-year-old sister clinging to his hand, wide-eyed and hungry, relying on him for everything their parents refused to provide. Their father barely acknowledged their existence, and their mother—once a promising witch—had long since lost herself to bitterness and regret, seeing her children more as burdens than anything else. So Severus played the role of caretaker, feeding his sister, keeping her warm, telling her soft, whispered stories of spells and wonders that he had yet to master.
That evening, after a long day of managing tantrums and coaxing her to eat, he finally got her to sleep. He sat by her tiny, makeshift bed for a while, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest, making sure she was truly settled before he dared to move. Their house was suffocating, the air thick with old arguments and unspoken resentments. He couldn't bear to stay in it longer than necessary.
Slipping on his worn-out shoes, he crept out of the house, letting the door shut softly behind him. The streets of Spinner’s End were as grim as ever, but the open air was a relief. He had no destination in mind—just a need to escape, if only for a little while.
And that was when he saw her.
A girl, around his age, with striking red hair that practically glowed in the fading sunlight. She stood near the park, laughing as she twirled in place, a leaf floating midair beside her as if caught in an invisible current. It wasn’t the wind holding it up.
Magic.
His heart pounded. He had found someone.
Fate, it seemed, had been waiting for this moment all along.
he grinned, " are you a witch too?"
the girl looked appalled.
Severus’s grin faltered for a split second. He hadn’t expected that reaction.
The girl had stopped twirling, her laughter replaced with a look of mild offense. She crossed her arms, green eyes narrowing at him.
"That’s quite rude, you know," she huffed, chin tilting up slightly.
Severus blinked. Rude? How was that rude? He had just asked a simple question—an exciting one, at that! He had finally found someone like him, hadn’t he?
"But you are, aren’t you?" he pressed, glancing pointedly at the leaf still floating in midair. "You’re making it move. That’s magic."
Her frown deepened, and she looked at the leaf as if only now realizing what she had done. With a small gasp, she snatched it out of the air and clutched it in her hands, as if she could somehow undo what he had seen.
"I don’t know what you’re talking about," she said, but there was a waver in her voice.
Severus smirked slightly, crossing his arms. "You do. You just don’t want to admit it. But it’s fine. I’m a wizard too."
The girl’s lips parted in surprise, hesitation flickering across her face. For a moment, it seemed like she wasn’t sure whether to believe him or run away.
Then, just as quickly as she had looked wary, her expression softened into curiosity. "You are?"
He nodded eagerly. "I’ve always known. My mum’s a witch."
She stared at him, studying him carefully. Then, after a beat, a small, almost conspiratorial smile crossed her lips.
"My sister says I’m a freak for it," she admitted, her voice quieter now.
Severus stiffened. That word—freak—he knew it well. He had heard it from his own father too many times. But this girl—this witch—she wasn’t a freak. She was special. Just like him.
"She’s wrong," he said firmly. "We’re not freaks. We’re magic."
Her smile grew, this time warm and real.
"I’m Lily," she said.
"Severus," he replied, feeling, for the first time in his life, that maybe—just maybe—he wasn’t so alone after all.
Every evening, once his sister was safely tucked into bed, Severus would slip out of the house and find Lily waiting for him. It had quickly become their routine—meeting by the park, wandering the quiet streets of Spinner’s End, talking about magic in hushed, eager voices.
Lily was fascinated by it. She would ask endless questions, her eyes alight with excitement. Could he do magic yet? What kind of spells did wizards learn? Did all witches and wizards go to a special school? Severus, thrilled to finally have someone to share this with, answered everything he knew, telling her about Hogwarts, wands, potions, and the incredible things that lay beyond their dull little town.
In return, Lily would talk about her family. She spoke of her parents with fondness—how her father would scoop her up and spin her around when he came home from work, how her mother made the best treacle tart, how they both encouraged her, even when her sister, Petunia, did not.
Severus listened but never shared much about his own home. He would nod, hum in response, and steer the conversation back to magic whenever she got too close to asking about his family. He didn’t want to talk about his father’s angry shouts, his mother’s cold indifference, or the way their house felt more like a prison than a home.
Lily seemed to notice but never pushed. She would glance at him sometimes, as if waiting for him to say something more, but she let it go when he didn't. Instead, she would take his hand and pull him forward, laughing as they ran through the empty streets, pretending they were already at Hogwarts, ready to leave their old lives behind.
And for those few stolen hours each night, Severus allowed himself to believe it was true.
One evening, as they sat on the rusted swings in the park, Lily chattered excitedly about Hogwarts.
"I wonder what kind of subjects we’ll have! Do you think we’ll learn how to fly straight away? Or maybe they start us off with something small—like making objects float!" She kicked her feet, making the swing creak beneath her. "Oh! And the houses! I hope I get into Gryffindor—my dad always says Gryffindor sounds like the best one."
Severus, who had been absentmindedly digging the toe of his shoe into the dirt, stiffened slightly at that but said nothing. Instead, he changed the subject. "I have a sister, you know."
Lily blinked, surprised. He never talked about his family.
"You do?"
He nodded, eyes fixed on the ground. "Her name’s Eleanor. She’s three."
Lily tilted her head. "That’s a pretty name. You’ve never mentioned her before."
Severus shrugged. "I take care of her." His voice was quieter now, almost careful. "My dad doesn’t bother, and my mum… well, she doesn’t really want to deal with us."
Lily frowned, her swing slowing as she listened. "So it’s just you?"
"Mostly." He hesitated, then added, "She likes when I tell her stories. About magic." A small, almost shy smile ghosted over his lips. "She thinks wands are made from the branches of fairy trees, and that all wizards have castles."
Lily smiled at that. "That’s sweet."
Severus glanced at her, as if unsure whether he should have shared this much. "She’s still little. She doesn’t understand it all yet."
Lily nudged his swing gently with her foot. "She’s lucky to have you," she said softly.
Something in Severus’s chest tightened at that. No one had ever said anything like that to him before. For a moment, he didn’t know what to say.
"...Yeah," he muttered finally, looking away. But there was a warmth in his voice that hadn’t been there before.