Disclaimer: Characters, etc, of course belongs to J.K. Rowling
Thanks to Vella for Beta reading!
He doesn't like anything, much
Though he has wiped it away, Severus can still feel the spot on his cheek. It burns like the focal point of sunrays gathered by a magnifying glass, it sears through the skin and into his soul. But sunshine is the wrong metaphor. Maybe acid, he thinks. Acid can burn, and he would not be surprised if his father's saliva should turn out to be acidic.
His thoughts are beginning to come back. They have been gone now for several minutes. It is like he has seen, heard and felt nothing. He notices that he is on his way down to the river, to the trees where he and Lily used to meet. It is strange and alarming that thoughts can disappear. It is as if his magic has gone too. His father, that Muggle, did this to him and yet no explosion of accidental magic occurred. They happen often enough. But not this time.
It is as if his insides are a void. As if he is no one. Nothing. Like when Mum has promised him a goodnight kiss, but forgets, and he lies waiting in the dark. Like when she doesn't greet him when he comes home from school. Like when Dad doesn't look at him. Like when they scream out their hatred of each other and everything they have in common.
Now, as he stumbles across the cobblestones, the void is beginning to refill. First by this burning sensation. It is not sunrays, however focused they may be. It is burning black, it is anti-light. Yes, he is the anti-child, the fruit of anti-love, embraced with anti-touch.
He reaches the trees. The anti-thoughts begin to frighten him. He doesn't want to be anti. He doesn't want his father to look at him in disgust or turn his head, pretending that he isn't there at all. He doesn't want to be spat on.
Now his eyes burn.
He thinks of Lily. How she says his name. How she smiles at him and asks him about everything he knows and doesn't know about magic and the wizarding world. He feels almost proud when he thinks of the fact that he discovered her; that he could see, not only that she is a witch, but that she is good. Truly good, for real. Despite everything, he could recognize goodness when he saw it. And he has magic, it isn't gone at all. He can feel it inside him now. It fills him to overflowing.
I am Severus, he thinks. I am a wizard. I have a friend.
His father is a Muggle. He has no friends and likes nobody.
Severus sits down on the ground and looks up into the green shades of the foliage.
I will never be like him, he thinks. Never.