“Hey, Ugly!”

The children had given that name to Severus when he first started attending the Primary School at the end of the block. His mother had explained to him that he must be educated and that she just wouldn’t be able to teach him and work a full-time job. She said the money from the potions she made just wasn’t enough. He had begged to be able to stay at home, but she had refused. He asked why he couldn’t go to school in the wizarding world, and she said that there were no schools for children his age there and that she couldn’t afford a Wizard tutor. Therefore, he went to school with the Muggles.

The children had started almost immediately to torture the poor boy from his first appearance there. Exhausted from her all-night shift at work, his mother had brought him late the first day. All eyes were on him when he walked into the classroom. Little girls snickered to each other behind their hands; boys looked openly hostile. The teacher spoke in her usual condescending voice that she thought was reassuring even though his skinniness, his greasy-haired appearance and old, faded, ill-fitting clothes quite obviously shocked her.

When they went out to recess, the other children gave him a wide berth. When he sat on the swingset, the other children who were playing there left it en masse. The boy sat, trying to imitate what the other children had been doing but not quite getting it right. He walked the swing backwards and sat down on it, but didn’t let himself swing. He wound up walking his legs back and forth while sitting and hanging onto the chains for dear life. The teachers watched, feeling sorry for the new boy, but doing nothing to help.

Finally, a group of older boys crowded around Severus. One pointed and loudly said, “Hey, the new kid’s an ugly git, ain’t he?”

“He can’t even swing,” another sneered.

Severus scowled at the jeering children.

They descended on him like vultures on a kill. “If you can’t swing, get off the swingset!” one said.

“Yeah, this is ours,” the biggest one said, cracking his knuckles.

“And we don’t like no ugly, big-nosed gits messing it up,” said the third, a tall boy, not as skinny as Severus but with a rat face.

“Get off now,” threatened the biggest boy, “Or we take you off.”

Severus stared angrily at the three, but rather than face the violence, he got up and left.

“Chicken! Chicken! The ugly git's a chicken! ” they taunted him as he slunk back towards the building.

The insults had only begun.

The strange, quiet kid didn’t say anything to his tormenters; he merely glared at them. Anything he did say they ridiculed that much more. Severus did not yet have the advantage of knowing what would hurt them. He watched for indications, but they covered their feelings quite well. The boy swore that someday he’d learn to read minds, and then he’d hurt them back for sure.

Anyway, his unwillingness to swing his fists or shout retorts emboldened many to take on the job of teasing him viciously who wouldn’t have otherwise. One day at recess, a boy, smaller than the others in the class, decided to show that he could be a bully too.

“Hey, Ugly, your mother dresses you funny,” he taunted.

Severus gritted his teeth. He did not like anyone talking about his mother.

The boy’s eyes glittered. He had found a whole new area of weakness in his opponent. The others snickered.

“I know who she is. You live with her at the end of our street. She don’t go out in the daytime, Mum says.”

Severus’s scowl became deeper.

“Yeah, she works at night, don’t she?”

That was true, and Snape didn’t like the way the boy was saying it.

“Women who work at night, you know what they are? You should, your mum’s one.”

He fully expected the child to call his mother a witch.

“She’s a whore, ickle Sevvie. Your mummy bends over for anyone. But I bet she doesn’t make much money, with a face like that.” The boy was gleeful at this point. The other children were watching with great interest, admiring the child’s filthy language.

“Yeah, I bet she don’t get 50 pence for it.”

That was enough. Severus raised his fist, but before he could hit, the boy went flying into the air and across the yard, smashing into the wall of the school. The boy landed on the ground, breathing heavily. It was obvious to the teachers that he was in shock. It looked like he had broken his back.

The teachers rushed out to retrieve the hurt child, glaring at Severus. His own teacher ordered him to the principal’s office where they called his mother at work. They told her the boy had beaten up a smaller kid. They had all seen the incident, and if their memories could have been read, they would see the boy hadn’t lifted a finger and that no child his size could have thrown a child like that in that arc or at that speed. Nevertheless, they insisted he had done it. He was obviously a problem child and would be expelled.