One rainy September day, two children walk down the street side by side, making their way to the library. The boy seems elated, but the girl appears to be in much lower spirits, which is highly uncharacteristic of her.

“Lily, what’s wrong?� the boy inquires, concerned.

“What?� she replies, distracted.

“You don’t seem very happy today,� he observes.

She attempts a small smile. “Oh, it’s nothing. It’s pretty silly, actually.�

“I won’t laugh,� he says, eyeing her solemnly.

“You never do, Sev,� she responds, almost impatiently.

Severus feels his temper flair. He knows what Lily said is true, but the way she phrased it makes him feel defensive. “Not everybody’s life is as good as yours,� he tells her.

“It doesn’t seem that good today,� she says grumpily.

Just like that, his anger dissipates, replaced by a wave of protectiveness for his friend. “Did Petunia say something mean about magic again?� he asks.

“No,� she replies. “It’s nothing like that.�

“What?� Severus prods her.

She sighs, a sound that sounds much too old on her innocent lips. “It’s the rain,� she explains, kicking a small puddle on the sidewalk with her baby blue rubber boots. “I hate getting wet and it makes everything so dull and grey. The world just seems so much more colourful – alive – when it’s sunny.�

He wishes he had a solution for her, a way to give her the sun on a rainy day. He doesn’t find one until later that day. While at the library, he does his best to cheer her up, even lending her his beloved copy of 1000 Magical Herbs and Fungi. Still, she goes home only marginally less down than when she came. Depressed by his lack of success in cheering up his best friend, he makes his way back to his own house. He is only a couple of streets away when he spots it.

It is a bright pink umbrella. It isn’t new. When he looks closely, he can see some specks of mud on it. Those could be washed off, though, he supposes.

He knows all too much about how pawn shops work. His parents often pawn things, oftentimes things that belong to him, and he knows the saving and hopes that goes into getting the object back. He knows, but he doesn’t care that somebody is doing this right now, hoping to get the pink umbrella back. He needs to buy it.

~*~

After that day, he begins walking with his head down. It is something he already had a tendency to do, but it becomes so pronounced that Lily even comments on it several times. Each time, he tells her she is seeing things, as his posture certainly hasn’t changed at all. He would know, wouldn’t he? It is his body, after all.

Really, he has purposely changed the way he walks, although it becomes an ingrained habit that he tries to change years later. At nine, he is looking for any coins that people might have left on the path. He is not that hungry that he has to resort to this method to feed himself. Rather, he is saving money for the umbrella. As October wears on, it becomes abundantly clear that he’ll never have the money to buy the umbrella it at this rate, even if he picks up coins from the sidewalk until he is fifty. He decides to move on to more dangerous methods.

One night, he spots the perfect opportunity. It is late, and he wakes up thirsty. He strains his ears, trying to hear if his parents are still awake. After several minutes of hearing nothing, he slips out of bed and tiptoes out of his room. At the top of the stairs he pauses, checking again for any sounds of his parents being awake. Hearing nothing, he continues quietly down the stairs, careful to avoid the creaky fifth, seventh, and thirteenth steps. In the kitchen, he grabs a glass from where it is drying in the dish rack and turns the tap on the slightest amount to make the minimal noise.

Suddenly, he hears something. He freezes, only to relax once more. It is just the sound of his father snoring from the living room, too lazy or too drunk when he returned from the pub to make his way to his bedroom upstairs. Suddenly, an idea strikes him. He turns off the tap and makes his way into the living room. He finds his father sprawled on the sofa, the air around the man reeking of alcohol.

Gently, he reaches his hand into his father pocket and teases out the coins in it. He holds his breath the entire time and moves slowly, as he knows a whipping awaits him if the man wakes. When he feels no more money in the pocket, he makes his way out of the room as quickly as possible and races up the stairs to his bedroom as quickly and softly as possible. When he falls asleep, the money is still clenched in his fist, which he has slipped under his pillow.

When he wakes at dawn, he makes sure neither of his parents are up yet before proceeding to count what he stole from his father. It turns out to be more than four times what he has collected from the sidewalk so far. For the first time, it seems like it might be possible to save enough money to buy the umbrella. However, he knows it will only happen if he’s willing to take the risk of stealing from his father a few more times more.

For the following weeks, he makes an effort to wait for his father’s return home on the nights the man goes to the pub, which is often. He is rewarded for his efforts on the man passes out before making it upstairs. Twice, he finds that his father spent all of his money on beer, but he usually finds at least a few small coins.

On December 20th, he counts his money, and has the pleasant surprise of finding he is only just short of having the money to purchase the umbrella. Before he can get his hopes too high, he walks down the block to the pawnshop window. It’s still there.

He is faced with a problem. The umbrella is almost within reach, and the idea of giving it to Lily for Christmas is now firmly entrenched in his dreams. He cannot count on being able to rob his father again within the next couple of days, and he knows he probably won’t find enough money to purchase it on the sidewalk soon enough, either. He can hold off until he has enough money, or he can do the unthinkable.

Regretfully, he trudges up the stairs to the attic. He crawls over a bag of miscellaneous junk, hops over some broken furniture, and makes his way over to the dusty, spider-infested corner that has come to feel like the only home he has in the house. In it sits the trunk, his only window to the magical world. It also contains the only vaguely valuable objects in the house that could disappear without his parents noticing.

Slowly, he sorts through its contents. He doesn’t want to part with any of the books, and to even consider getting rid of any Potions ingredients would practically be blasphemy. Although he holds no affection for the moth-eaten black girl’s robes, he knows better than get rid of them, as he has a strong suspicion that they will unfortunately be his robes when he goes to Hogwarts. In fact, he is pretty sure that almost everything he’ll need for school will come from this trunk.

Finally, he finds something non-essential and uninteresting: his mother’s Gobstones set. He races down the stairs to his bedroom, grabs the money he has been stashing beneath his bed since October, then makes his way down to the ground floor and out the door. He knows he must complete his tasks before his mother returns from the market and his father returns from another day of predictably fruitless job-hunting.

When he enters the pawn-shop, a male employee is waiting on a middle-aged woman. They both give him odd looks because of his young age, but he gives them his deadliest glare. He won’t be intimidated by mere Muggles.

He leaves the place elated, the pink umbrella in his hand. He has succeeded! True, he had to pawn his mother’s Gobstones set to Muggles, something he has the impression might be illegal under magical law, but he doubts it is too big of a deal. Besides, he is anticipating Lily’s response too much to let worries drag him down.

~*~

On Christmas Eve, he meets Lily at the park. Like Petunia, Lily’s parents don’t approve of him – a strange, working-class boy – so she sneaks out to meet him. He’s freezing, since he doesn’t have a coat. Just seeing Lily, whose face is illuminated with Christmas joy, makes the chill worth it the second he sees her.

He listens to her chatter for some time. He doesn’t pay particular attention to her words, but instead just lets the sounds of her joyful words wash over his ears and enjoys watching her, so animated and happy. As the conversation reaches a lull, he pulls his present for her out from behind his back. It looks strange, so long and thing, poorly wrapped in an old newspaper.

Lily doesn’t even notice the wrapping paper. Instead, she sees the pride and anticipation glowing from her friend’s face, something she rarely witnesses. She tears the gift open.

“An umbrella?� she asks, bewildered.

He tries not to feel the hurt deep in his core. He worked so hard to save money for her gift. He has to make her understand, or else all of his effort will be in vain. “Remember that day we went to the library together? You were so sad because it had been raining all day.�

Lily’s eyes lit up, and her face is filled with a huge smile. “You bought the umbrella to keep me dry and light up my day! Oh, Sev, it’s perfect!� She flings herself at him and kisses the bridge of his nose.

It is the most innocent of kisses, a kiss of friendship and joy, yet afterwards he cannot stop thinking of it. Years later, when he looks back, this is the precise moment that he decides that he fell in love with Lily Evans.