Make Believe by LD7 Title: Make Believe Author:lemondropseven Pairing: None Rating: G Word Count: 1,400 Warnings: None, but y’all should know me enough by now to know it’s probably not going to be fluffy or have a happy ending. Summary: Severus makes a vow. A/N: I do not own Harry Potter and company. Thanks to joanwilderfor the beta. :) Written for Severus’ 50th Birthday (even though it’s late.) Prompt: Well, it started off as a response to prompt 3: Severus sat back in his chair and surveyed the world they had created. He was satisfied. But it ended up with prompt 2: Severus looked back over his shoulder to see the path of his life stretched behind him. But even though it was clear, how had it lead him here? So, you get two for the price of one. ;)
The warm Saturday afternoon sun shone down on Severus as he blindly ran through the only patch of nature in Spinner's End. He took no notice of the breeze whispering overhead, causing the leaf-patterned shadows to dance around him. All his focus was on putting one foot in front of the other.
Gasping for air, tears streaming down his face, and his mind preoccupied with escape, Severus didn't see the tree root sticking up from the ground. Twisting his ankle violently, he fell with a cry of pain and surprise. He lay there for a moment, stunned and breathless from the impact, before rolling over and staring up at the grey-blue sky.
Long minutes passed before Severus finally sat up, sniffling and rubbing his eyes as he gingerly stretched his injured ankle. A slight hiccough accompanied his pitiful moan when pain shot up his leg. He crawled on his hands and knees over to the base of the tree, whimpering as every move jostled his ankle.
Severus carefully settled on the large root that had tripped him, leaning back against the rough bark of the tree. His thin shoulders rose and fell on a massive sigh as he dropped his chin to his chest. Absently tugging on a hank of his longish hair, his mind mercilessly replayed the events that had led him here.
“He's only eight years old, Tobias! He can't help it!” His mother's screech had followed him as he ran from the house.
His parents were always fighting. His mother tried to keep him from hearing their arguments, and mostly she succeeded, but occasionally he could hear them after he went to bed, whispering hotly about him. About the things he'd done.
This time the TV had exploded. It wasn't his fault, really--he couldn't control it.
They'd all eaten lunch together and afterwards, his father had plopped down in front of the TV as usual, while Severus went had gone to his room to read despite his mother urging him to play outside. Even though he wasn't due to start Hogwarts for another three years (he hoped he would receive a letter from the school when he turned eleven), his mother had recently given him a couple of her first year texts. He quickly became lost in the fascinating world of potions and magic.
Severus loved learning new things and in his excitement to share the wonderful discoveries contained in the book, he forgot his father hated anything having to do with magic. Running into the kitchen, he fairly vibrated with enthusiasm as he told his mother about the latest chapter in the Potions text. She tried to shush him, but he kept talking until he heard heavy booted footsteps behind him.
“What are you chattering on about, boy?” his father sneered, ripping the book from his hands.
“Nothing, Father.” Severus' voice shook a little as the last hours' joy drained from him as if it'd never existed.
Flipping pages roughly, his father's face scrunched up, a clear sign of anger. Suddenly, he started tearing the pages out, muttering under his breath, “Foolish nonsense, can't believe my son is a freak.” He raised his voice a little on the last word, looking straight at Severus.
His mother gasped, but didn't look surprised. Severus wondered how many times his father had already called him that during their arguments, for her to react that way. A startling thought occurred to him, wiping his mind of everything else.
His father hated him.
Severus somehow felt as if he'd known that fact all along and had ignored it, but now, there was no mistaking the look on his father's face as he destroyed one of the few things that brought Severus happiness. The knowledge crystallized inside him, and wild magic flared out in response to a hurt and anger so deep it defied words. In a shower of sparks, the TV his father gave all his attention to sizzled, melted, then blew apart in a spectacular display.
Paling as his father dropped the book, his face contorting even more, Severus ran for the door just as his father took a step towards him. As he pushed open the door, he heard his mother plead in an attempt to calm his father, as well as her defense of him as the door slammed shut behind him.
Tired of thinking--of feeling--and with the resilience of youth, Severus switched his attention to his surroundings. Lifting his head, he let it thud back against the tree as he stared at the little clearing he'd stumbled onto. The woods extended behind the houses on his street and he played in them often, but he'd never come this far before. The trees were thick and close together, forming a protective ring around this unexpected haven.
Severus stretched, slightly stiff from sitting so still after his mad dash from home. A small twinge in his ankle reminded him to go slow, but the sharp pain had faded to a dull throb. Standing, he eased some of his weight onto the injured foot, relieved when it held him up. Content to forget the problems he'd run from, Severus explored and inspected his new place. The grass was tall, almost to his waist, and so thick, it was more like wading through water than walking.
He knew he was the first to discover this place because of its overgrown, untouched state and so he rightfully claimed it. Hobbling through the waves of grass to the edge of the woods, he searched for an appropriate marker to let everyone know this was his property. Slightly disappointed that there wasn't a hill in the middle, so his flag could be seen from far away, Severus remedied the situation by finding a fallen branch, longer than he was tall.
Poking and scraping at the ground, Severus managed to plant the crooked branch in the hard earth at the center of his clearing. Stepping back, he stared at it critically; it was listing slightly to the left, but he nodded in satisfaction. Working industriously, he rolled logs into place, collected rocks for future unknown purposes, and defiantly gathered plants to use in potions studies. He walked back and forth across the clearing so often the tall grass became flattened in crisscrossing paths.
Severus was creating his world.
It was a world where he was powerful and in control, where he never ran in fear, and where he wasn't a freak…he was loved. He was a great wizard with a magnificent castle and a mighty army. Severus sat on his throne (for he was king too), satisfaction and pride welling up in him as he looked out over his kingdom.
His father came to visit him--begging and pleading--wanting forgiveness. Severus wanted to deny him, to hurt him as badly as he'd been hurt. He wanted to throw him in the dungeons and leave him there to rot…but he couldn't. He was still his father.
But the snarling hatred on his father's face could never be erased from his memory and so, neither could he forgive.
Staring down at the man kneeling before him, Severus said in an emotionless voice, “There is nothing to forgive. You don't matter to me.” He stuttered briefly over the words as his breath hitched, belying his words. Hardening his young heart, he continued, “I don't care what you think, say, or do, as long as I never have to see you again. I banish you from my kingdom.” His father burst into tears, and Severus commanded his guards to drag him out.
Completely alone in his kingdom--his clearing in the woods--scorching hot tears ran down his cheeks once more. When the salty tracks had dried on his face, and the sun was setting, Severus stood beside his log-throne and tree branch-flag pole, and made a vow to himself.
He would be somebody important, he would do something important, and he would never give anyone the power to hurt him again; his heart and life would be his own.
Severus turned back the way he'd come, heading home, completely unaware that his words would haunt him through his life until he lay dying in a pool of his own blood, sure of only one thing: he was somebody important and he had done something important, no matter whom his heart and life belonged to, for it had surely never been his.