Two
23rd June 1968
‘He’s a freak! Why are you wearing girl’s clothes? Dirty little weirdo. Come on Lily, you don’t want to be associating with his sort.’ The older girl is tall with brown hair pulled back into a tight pony tail, making the disgusted expression on her face even harsher. Severus feels his magic itching in his chest, sees the branch fall, but this time it doesn’t stop her tirade. ‘You see! He’s a nasty, horrible little faggot…’ The girl’s body morphs, her voice dropping lower as her form grows and spreads into the shape of a man, looming over him, belt in hand.
‘Unnatural. Evil.’ The man growls, while around them a crowd is gathering. The sisters from the park, other kids from school, the bullies who hang out in the alley behind the house, the shop keeper who always looks at him like he’s going to nick something, and the busy body lady from down the street who sometimes gives them clothes and food and pitying looks. They stare and taunt, and he tries to defend himself, fight back, but the more he does, the more they hate him. Then suddenly it all stops. The people are frozen like statues, but as a strong breeze blows they begin to crumble and dissolve into sand.
Severus finds himself in the middle of a desert, surrounded by perfect yellow dunes of sand like an endless dry ocean. Ahead of him, a figure emerges from the shimmering heat and strolls towards him.
‘Hello Severus. What are you dreaming this evening?’
Severus blinks up at the Dream King, who gestures towards a flax coloured tent which has appeared in the dunes behind him. Inside the tent is cool, and filled with colourful patterned rugs and soft cushions. They sit down and Dream serves cool mint tea with slices of lemon.
‘Don’ wanna think about that.’ Severus frowns into his glass.
‘Who was the girl?’ Morpheus asks. The boy’s dream had started off well enough, and he was curious to know what had made it turn sour.
‘I met her at the park.’ Severus replies, sipping the refreshing tea. ‘She’s like me.’
‘A witch?’ Morpheus tilts his head. As far as he knew the magical and non magical humans had been quite segregated for some time. To find two magical children of the same age in a regular town was quite something. He wonders if one of his siblings is up to something.
Severus nods.
‘She don’t know nothin about magic though. Me mam says that’s called muggle born.’
Ah, muggles, yes that was what the magical humans called the others. A silly name.
‘So you’ve made a friend?’ Morpheus asks.
Severus shrugs.
‘Her sister’s a b…’ He pauses and looks up at the King of Dreams with wide eyes, almost as black as the night.
‘A bitch?’ Morpheus finishes with amusement.
Severus nods and bites back a grin.
‘Did you really drop a branch on her head?’ Morpheus asks.
‘I didn’t mean too… kinda. I mean I can’t control my magic proper yet can I? But it aint like she didn’t deserve it.’ The boy scowls.
‘I understand wanting to take revenge.’ Morpheus stares out of the tent door to the desert beyond.
‘What would you have done to her?’ Severus asks the man.
‘That depends. What did she do to you?’
‘She teased me because… because I was wearin me mam’s blouse.’ He finishes in a mutter.
‘Is that all?’ Morpheus smirks, but the boy looks even more distressed. He jumps up, his bony fists clenched at his sides.
‘It aint my fault! I don’t have nothin else to wear except what mam can spare and I aint wearing his clothes! But I aint a fag, I aint!’
‘Severus.’ The Dream King intones, hushing the boy’s emotional tirade with his tone alone. ‘I was not laughing at you. And for the record there is nothing wrong with wearing women’s clothing, nor being homosexual, though one does not necessarily denote the other.’
Morpheus waits for the child to calm himself before continuing.
‘In answer to your question; what would I do if someone ridiculed my clothing? I would pity them.’ He states. ‘What would Dream of the Endless care what any man, beast, or even angel thinks about how I choose to adorn this form? Appearances can portray certain things I suppose.’ He muses. ‘But anyone who has time to waste commenting on what anyone else is wearing is clearly a lesser life form capable of neither complex thought nor a modicum of empathy. Not to mention being distinctly lacking in imagination.’
Severus laughs at that, but is interrupted by a tiny voice coming from the low table upon which their tea glasses sit. The boy leans down to see a small snail there with a rather familiar long and unhappy face.
‘Snape! Snape! I know you did this to me! Turn me back this instant or I’ll… I’ll tell mummy!’ The snail squeaks.
‘Don’t worry Tuney!’ Severus laughs. ‘It’s only a dream! The Dream King will probably turn you back before you wake up. Would you like a mint leaf?’ He plucks one off the bushel in the middle of the table and holds it in front of the creature’s face. The snail recoils in disgust. ‘Suit yourself you slimy little bug.’ He tosses the leaf away and leans back in his seat as the snail slithers as quickly as it can to the other side of the table.
‘Come.’ Morpheus says, holding out his elbow.
The boy links his arm through and they step out of the tent. It is night time now, and the huge wide sky is filled with a sparkling array of white pin dot stars.
‘None of them matter. Their words, their thoughts, don’t matter. They are but grains of sand in the dessert.’ Dream scoops up a handful of silken sand and allows it to spill through his fingers like water.
‘Are you the Sandman?’ Severus frowns with intense interest. A curious child, despite everything in his life that could have made him so fearful.
‘That is one of my names.’ Morpheus responds with a tilt of his head.
They walk a little further before Dream stops and gazes to the east where the sky is just tinged with purple.
‘Sweet dreams Severus…’ The King of Dreams holds out his hand, blowing sand into a cloud which swirls and twists, and Severus drifts away with it.
~~*~*~~