"Alright everybody! Line up and put your brooms on the ground beside you. No touching! Good! Excellent!"

It was a grey morning, and the first years of Hufflepuff and Gryffindor were assembled in the muddy courtyard for their first flying lesson. They had all been given a school broom to learn on, as it was not allowed for first years to keep a broom, a fact which relieved Severus though did nothing to lessen his embarrassment as the other students began to brag and crow, "I’ve got a broom at home, but I wasn’t allowed to bring it", and "my brother sometimes lets me borrow his!". His mother didn’t even own a broom, at least not since he could remember. They looked harmless enough just lying in the mud, rather domestic, rustic. Who would want their own broom, anyway.

"Now, hold your hands out over your broom and call ‘up’. Don’t be disheartened if it takes a few tries."

Among all the cries of ‘Up!’ and the laughter and frustration that obedient and disobedient brooms both caused, Severus had managed to call his broom into his hand on his second try. He held it beside him like a wild animal, unsure if he should take his eyes off it. As the noise around him grew less, he chanced a look around the class and saw Lily still calling to her broom. He wondered if he could get her attention, to show her that he had succeeded, and then to offer her some help or encouragement. He cleared his throat loudly.

"You never caught a cold, did you?!" Barnaby chatted amiably from beside him. "My mother had some really good cough medicine at home, I bet the nurse here will have it."

"I haven’t got a cold." Severus said to shut him up, and as he said it he saw Lily pluck her broom out of the air. Severus smiled and wanted to call out.

"Nice one Lily!" James Potter and Sirius Black both exclaimed and ran to pat her on the shoulder, their own brooms obediently buoyant in their hands. A scowl darkened Severus’s face until his own broom made a sudden lunge for the sky and nearly pulled him off his feet. He struggled to bring it back to rights, trying to block out the distracting sound of Gryffindor laughter.

"And now for the fun part! When I say so, and not before, you may mount your brooms, hover into the air, and then return to the ground. And that’s return immediately to the ground. Alright, are we ready? Go!"

Before Severus had even swung his leg over, James, Sirius and Clara, a girl from Hufflepuff, were in the air and smiling down on everyone. Clara quickly dropped back to earth and gave an embarrassed but pleased laugh, but James and Sirius remained hovering in the air. Severus’ broom was struggling against his grip, he had trouble getting it low enough to mount and when he tried to his foot caught in his robes and he fell into the mud. Heat blazed across his face, but so few of the students had succeeded yet that no-one had noticed. Severus stood and tried to brush the dirt off him, but he could feel a damp stain on his backside. Angrily he muttered ‘Up!’ and the broom rose to him again, and this time he mounted it safely. He gave it a tug that he thought would make it rise, and lifted into the air. Watching James and Sirius it had looked similar to sitting on a seat in a vehicle, merely commanding it to move, but it didn’t feel like it. The broom was full of pent up energy, like it was alive and wanted to get moving, and it bobbed and swayed on the breeze. And Severus found the narrow broom handle a very uncomfortable perch, and not quite adequate to hold him; he felt in constant danger of sliding off to either side, or of tipping the entire broom head over tail. He had hovered for a brief moment, and was quite ready to come down as the teacher had instructed, when he suddenly found himself upside down, his legs wrapped around the top side of the broom, and his hands still gripping the handle. His robes hung down into the mud (as he discovered he was not so very high after all), and bared his skinny legs. Then his grip failed and all of him was in the mud, the broom stayed hovering in the air only to clatter down on top of him a moment later.

He wasn’t the only one to fall of their broom that day. And Peter Pettigrew from Gryffindor had barely managed to get his broom off the ground at all. But that made no difference to Severus. He had seen the eyes all turned on him as he dragged himself out of the mud, trying not to show the bruises from his fallen broom. He had heard Sirius Black jeer from aloft "Big nose fall down?". And he saw James Potter, show off that he would prove to be, fly a figure eight around Lily as she hovered shakily, biting her lip and pointing her toes.

At the end of the class they all returned their brooms to the teacher and got praise or encouragement in return.

"Well done, Mr Potter, a natural! Though do pay more attention to instructions in the future, or you’ll lose House points. I think the same goes for you, young master Black."

"Oh dear, Mr Pettigrew, I think you’ll do better after a growth spurt, hey? Never mind!"

"Mr Lupin, a little more confidence and I think you’ll do fine."

"Ah, Barnaby Mantis, isn’t it? A good job, you might do well to tuck your knees in."

"Oh dear, and just look at you, you have more mud on your robes than on the field. Well, Mr Snape, you can make the broom obey you well enough. You just don’t seem to have the athletic side down. I think a spot of exercise out doors would be my best advice."

"Miss Evans, a fine first try, though I don’t think you need look so terrified!"

The children were excited and exhausted as they walked back to the castle, retelling the lesson to each other as they went. James and Sirius had run virtually hand in hand, grinning from ear to ear, Peter Pettigrew tailing them a few steps behind interjecting their conversation with cries of "oh yeah that was great!" and "you were far out!". If only they were far out, thought Severus.

"Are you alright?" Severus nearly jumped out of his skin, but thought he did a good job of hiding it. It was Lily, walking beside him. "I saw you fall off your broom, did it hurt? I was terrified I would fall off."

Severus felt happiness swell up in him, and squared his shoulders. But he couldn’t help wondering where Lily had been the past week, when he had been alone.

"Why are you talking to me?" He sneered at her, "I thought you didn’t want to be my friend."

Lily’s eyes widened sorrowfully. "Oh no, Sev, you’re... the only person I know here! "

"What about Potter and Black?"

"Them? They just talk to me because we’re in the same House, and because we’d met on the … train. But I haven’t even made any friends yet. It’s hard when you’re muggle born. Not that people are being mean about it, it’s just that I don’t know everything like you do. Like one girl offered me a Berty Botts Every Flavour Bean, and I got really mad at her, because I didn’t know that Witches made sweets that taste horrible. In the muggle world, you usually make lollies that taste nice. I thought she was playing a prank on me, and now everyone thinks I’m crazy."

"But you’ve been avoiding me."

"No, honestly I haven’t! But we‘re always separated into our Houses , and I thought you might be mad… and I’ve been trying to make friends…and learn - everything! I’m not avoiding you now, am I?"

Severus relented, quite happily. "No. And maybe we’ll get more classes together, like today. And I could help you, if you needed it."

"Still, I’m glad you’re not in Slytherin after all."

"Why?!" His bad mood returning.

"They don’t seem very nice, that’s all. And most of the Gryffindors really seem to dislike them."

"So you’re choosing them over me! Just because those boys said that…" He was too angry to finish.

"I’m not!" Lily cried in surprise. "You aren’t even in Slytherin!"

"That’s completely beside the point!" Severus shouted and stormed off into the castle, very nearly making the turn for the dungeons before correcting himself, leaving Lily standing by the entrance hall bewildered.

***********

Just as at home, Severus found his relief not in friends but in study. He had developed an appetite for magical knowledge at his mother’s knee. He had devoured what magical books she had been able to keep from her husband, and whenever he was absent, sleeping or, as Severus grew older, drugged by a potion slipped into his dinner, she had regaled Severus with all kinds of stories. So that although they were cut off from the wizarding world, he had felt like he was raised in (at least half) a proper wizarding family. To Severus, his very identity as a wizard was tantamount to how much he could learn, understand and achieve. He felt more of a wizard, and more himself, with his nose in a book of magic, than horsing around with other so-called under aged wizards who often seemed little different to the muggle children that had taunted him back in Spinner’s End.

To his greatest delight, Severus had found the library bookshelves almost overflowing with texts on potions, charms and hexes, herbology, magical creatures, the great magicians of the past, magical sports and recreation, magical institutions, healing magic, transfiguration, divination, astrology, astronomy, ancient runes, racing brooms, muggle studies, and even correct wand usage.

For the first few months at Hogwarts, Severus rose early and slipped away from the sleeping Hufflepuffs, slinking into the library only seconds after it’s doors were opened. He worked his way randomly through the shelves, devouring every book that seemed to speak of greatness and innovation. Smugly, he placed back any book that mentioned ‘beginner’ ‘easy’ or ‘fun’ without so much as flipping through the pages. He returned to the library at lunchtimes and free periods, and spent most of his afternoons there until curfew, when he would return to his black shrouded bed and practice spells he had learnt during the day. Between his own studies and his homework, he found he had little time to worry about friends, or the lack of them.

As the classes became harder, and the teachers came to expect more of them, Severus found himself excelling in earnest, particularly in potions and charms, and in a subject that was soon rising to be his favourite, Defence Against the Dark Arts. He was no longer able to rely on his past experience, the class work had soon caught up and overridden what he had known before coming to Hogwarts, but his natural intelligence and his over-zealous studying kept him firmly ahead of most of his classmates.

Potions classes were shared with Ravenclaw. Severus found the Ravenclaws as clever and studious as himself, a fact which only pushed him to study harder, and yet he found many of them lacked an understanding on, could he say, a more spiritual level. The Ravenclaws were certainly good at memorising, and following instructions, and achieving expected results, but seemed quite removed from the process. Severus took it on himself to understand every ingredient, every motion, until he knew how and why each was chosen, until he could answer questions that the textbooks didn’t even touch on. Professor Slughorn continued to be impressed. Severus preened, in his own dark and simple way, under Slughorn’s endless praise, but he never asked a favour of Slughorn again.

Charms, on the other hand, was shared with Gryffindor, and thus with Lily. Like Potions, it was a practical class which served to challenge and inspire him, being able to exhibit his skill in front of the class without being accused of boasting. But this did nothing to prevent him labelling James and Sirius ‘insufferable show-offs’ for behaving in, perhaps, the exact same way.

The two Gryffindor boys were always seated side by side, grinning and whispering, and showing a prodigious natural talent. Lily proved a dab hand at Charms, herself. While Severus remained a top student, his style was understated, almost grim with determination, and his utterance of the charms was quiet (and he felt sure he would soon be able to dispense with the spoken word altogether, though it was years before silent spells would be taught); so that his successes were rarely noticed by more than his immediate neighbours and the teacher. James and Sirius, however, had a loud and flamboyant style; James whipping his wand with a certain amount of aggressiveness, and Sirius with an almost dangerous carelessness. (And yet the seeming imprecision was always spot on, and Sirius ever avoided the common mistakes of explosions that afflicted, in particular, Peter Pettigrew. Peter also went a long way in drawing attention to the duo, by constantly squealing in glee at their feats.) Sitting further from them than they would have liked, next to a Gryffindor girl she had finally befriended, Lily matched all their achievements in a style that spoke of nothing more or less than pure joy.

At the end of one Charms lesson several weeks into term, as Sirius and James, with Peter in their wake as usual, ran quickly from the room to get up to some mischief Severus had been unlucky enough to drop his textbook in their path. Sirius had glided over the top of it, but James’ foot had caught it and sent it flying behind him just as it had sent him flying forward onto the ground with a loud thump. Peter, too close behind and too slow in reflex, fell on top of him and was thrown roughly aside as James tried to rise.

"You did that on purpose." James accused, red in the face with anger and embarrassment. Severus ignored him, and pushed past the jumble of limbs to retrieve his book. As he bent to pick it up he could sense James and Sirius standing behind him.

"Turn around, you coward."

He slowly grasped the book and stood, looking at a handful of pages that had been torn almost right out, the top one of which had a dirty shoe print on it. He looked over his shoulder at the Gryffindor pair. James had his wand out and pointed at his back. Sirius was holding his wand at his side.

"Turn around and face me! You did that on purpose."

"You broke my book." Severus said quietly, his eyes glittering with malice.

"Prove it. It was in tatters to start with." James’ response made Pettigrew laugh, even as he was still struggling to get up and cradling his bruised elbows.

"Oh, stop it!" Lily rushed between them, blocking James’ wand. "You just tripped on a book, go cradle your ego someplace else."

"What do you care about it?" James said, trying to aim over her shoulder.

"He’s my friend. He’s alright."

"Your friend? Huh, I thought you had better taste. Yeah, alright Lily" He said, as she started admonishing him again, "alright, maybe it was just an accident, this time. But this little Slytherin-wannabe had better stay out of my way."

Lily encouraged the Gryffindors out of the room, then returned to Severus who was still looking at his broken book. He didn’t look up as she stood next to him. "No need to thank me."

"I know. You didn’t need to save me from Potter. I could take him. I wasn’t scared, you know."

"Well. That’s what you think is it? Next time maybe I’ll just let you handle it on your own. Maybe I won’t bother talking to you anymore, either."

"Wait….thanks."

"How’s the book?"

"Wrecked." Severus took his wand out of his robes and pointed it at the book, mumbled something and the pages magically knitted back into one piece. "No harm done, I guess." His tone contrary to his words.

" It’s just the way you went on about Slytherin, you know. Why they don’t…get on with you. They’re actually okay, otherwise."

"They’re self-righteous bullies, Lily."

"Yeah, well I remember what you said to Petty, before we came here. She told me, and she wouldn’t speak to me at the station because of it. You were horrid to my own sister, and I’ve forgiven you for it."

Severus scowled as he searched for an answer; he knew Lily needed him to apologise and say he never meant it, but he did, he was only interested in magic and some silly Muggle girl was nothing but a waste of his time.

Thankfully, before he could answer in any wise, Professor Flitwick had returned to the classroom to pick up some papers he’d left behind. He started to see the two students still in the room.

"Merlin’s Beard! Out out out! Students are not allowed in here unattended!"

Severus gladly hastened from the room, and Lily had no choice but to follow, but found he had disappeared down the corridor heading to the only place he could actually hide from her (excepting the boys’ bathrooms), the Hufflepuff common room.

****

The Huffelpuff common room was always warm and cosy, the fire always lit, and the comforting smell of a home cooked meal always wafting in from the nearby kitchens. Students were regularly lounged before the fire or in the spacious, deep armchairs, studying or just chatting in their usual amiable manners. For almost every student this served to stave off homesickness, but one young Hufflepuff found it alien and strange. Severus had grown up in a sparsely furnished house, with utilitarian wooden chairs and a fire that was often dead, or smoking frightfully; a house that had rarely known the smell of roasting beef or apple pie, nor the sound of carefree conversation, or joyous laughter. Severus found that his small, dark presence was incongruous in its new home, and yet he was tolerated, welcomed even.

Many of the Hufflepuffs had given up on Severus within a month, and left him to himself, without animosity. Two older students had taken a dislike to him, since he had decided to shun Hufflepuff they decided to shun him, and could be heard to whisper that he didn’t deserve to be in their house, and yet even they withheld from tormenting him. And one first-year, that red-faced curly-headed Barnaby Mantis, was positively determined to befriend him. His attempts to get Severus talking, however, didn’t always turn out so well.

Barny Mantis was a prattler. He could talk about anything or nothing for hours, his inconsequential chatter interspersed with "I say", "golly", "boy", "old man" and "chum". Severus on the other hand, prefered to keep conversation to a minimum, brief and to the point. Worse, it was soon very obvious that Barny Mantis was rich, and Severus, being rather on the opposite end of the scale, fully expected to be rejected even by him soon enough. In his experience, social classes didn't mix, just as - it seemed to make sense - muggle and wizard ought not to mix. To his suprise, Barnaby had a different opinion.

The (mostly one-sided) conversation had eventually led to Severus exclaiming unhappily "You're rich; I'm not! You go on and on about your dad - my dad's a labourer, alright, and a bloody muggle too. Is that what you wanted to hear? Are you happy now that you've beat it out of me with your incessant blabber?! Now that you know how worthless I am you can go ahead and hate me all you want."

"I say, old chum, I'm shocked! I didn't mean anything of the sort. I don't hate you, and I think you're far from worthless! Why, you're much better than me in classes - excepting broomsticks - better than almost anyone! And I know you aren't rich, but what could that matter?! Really! As if I cared how much money you had, or if your dad's a muggle? It doesn't change who you are. I'm sorry I bore you with talk of my father, I'm just proud of him, like I'm sure you are of yours..."

"I'm not." Severus muttered.

"Well, gosh, maybe you should be? Like my dad says; don't judge people by things they have no control over."

Barny looked at him sideways, and walked away shaking his head. Normally Severus would be thrilled to have finally shut him up, but instead his mind was filled with all the anxiety he’d ever felt over his father and his class. Barnaby had left him, but he'd not rejected him. Severus couldn't help being poor, or having Tobias Snape for a father, and yet that was who he was. And here was some rich wizard boy, trying to tell him that none of it mattered. Not because he could turn his back on it, and despise it, but because there was honestly nothing wrong with it. Well, Severus had grown up with it, not Barny, and as far as he was concerned it did matter, and there was a lot wrong with it.

That night Severus dreamt of his mother and father shouting at each other. By the time he awoke, he was exhausted and confused. Severus peered out of the black curtains of his bed and found Barnaby dressing for the day, he spotted Snape's nose sticking out and gave him a friendly "morning!". Snape withdrew back into the dark of his bed, thinking that maybe it didn't matter how much money you had, or how much wizard blood you had, not if you were a wizard yourself, not if you were a strong, good wizard who could command respect. Because money and blood couldn't make you a great wizard, it was something you had to be, in yourself. And a really great wizard wouldn't use his unfortunate past as an excuse to be less than he deserved. And yet, the insecurities and prejudices of eleven years are not conquered overnight.