What a good question. You rarely see it argued that he did, but…well, here we go:
I think Severus Snape went to Muggle school.
Cokeworth is sufficiently big to demand more than one infant/junior school, so I think Severus probably went to one on the ‘bad side of town’, whilst the Evans girls went to a better school in the richer suburb.
I believe Tobias was a very traditional man - and I think Eileen wanted to do right by her husband. I headcanon that their marriage was mostly ok in their early days, and Severus went to school with the right clothes - clean clothes, even - and he was fairly quiet and well behaved.
I don’t think he had the best of everything, but then, neither did the other kids at the school either. They were all in the poverty trap together, and I think Severus started well, because he was keen to learn. He enjoyed reading and was desperate to practice at home - but he couldn’t find any books, apart from those weird dusty tomes in his mother’s battered school satchel.
Severus read them over and over again until he’d memorised them, even though he barely understood the words - and the odd time he mentioned them at school, nobody knew what he was talking about. Apparating, indeed.
I think about Harry and his magical outbursts as a pre-teen, and I think that was Severus’ downfall. He was depicted as an emotional man as an adult, so I think he had no chance of keeping his outbursts under wraps as a kid.
By five, I think Tobias would’ve already known that Severus was magical - and he was just praying that his son wouldn’t display any weird behaviour at the school, because he didn’t want the neighbours to know.
But Severus did.
He couldn’t help it.
The other kids soon became wary of him, then terrified - and the teachers weren’t far behind. The more they disliked him, the more emotional Severus became. In the end, nobody in his class complained when he skipped an afternoon here and there. Afternoons became days, which became weeks.
Before Severus knew it, whole terms had gone by.
His attendance was so poor, it was flagged to social services, and one of their youngest - a Durham graduate with a tidy beard and shiny shoes - Jonny Davies, was sent to visit the boy’s family.
You didn’t often see social workers down Spinner’s End; the adults were too far gone to help, and their reaction wasn’t often welcoming, laced instead with spite and vitriol.
But although Jonny couldn’t remember much of the afternoon, he did remember having a nice chat with Mrs Snape on the doorstep, and she reassured him that it was all a mistake, and of course young Severus was at school; he was there now!
Sure enough, now that he was back in the office, Jonny couldn’t believe he’d made such a mistake. His papers clearly showed that Severus had barely missed a day - and that was only due to the poor boy having a stomach ache.
Tobias was furious when he heard that social services had visited. He was ashamed of his son, and he laid the blame on Eileen. In reaction, Eileen scoured her magical books, desperate for a way to help her son. Eventually, she found the answer: Occlumency.
But it wasn’t enough. Severus was too young, too emotional and unable to focus. He didn’t care about stopping his outbursts at Muggle school because he just didn’t care about Muggle school full stop. Eileen’s belated efforts to make him attend didn’t work; if she dropped him at the gate, he’d simply leap over the wall at the back.
A few years into the charade, and Eileen couldn’t pretend to care anymore. Tobias had all but disowned his family; he wasn’t working, and what money he did have went into propping up the bar across town.
Eileen stopped bothering to dress Severus in school appropriate clothes; the cost was astronomical, and if Severus was going to scrabble around by the river all day, then he could make do with what cast-offs she could scrimp together.
Not that Eileen really understood the difference. One set of Muggle clothes was the same as the other.
But Tobias knew.
And Severus knew.
And the Muggle kids he ran into from time to time… They all knew.
So Severus spent his days at the playground, dirty-haired, and wearing ill-fitting adult clothes. He daydreamed about his Hogwarts letter arriving. Everyone would understand him in his new world, and nobody would laugh when he said the word, “Apparate,” or when he got so annoyed that sparks would fly from his fingertips.
Not that sparks would ever fly from his fingertips at Hogwarts, because Hogwarts was full of magical people; full of witches and wizards who couldn’t wait to be his friends…
she is red hair and hazel eyes. she is high temper. when she was young i remember she would stomp her foot and yell at the play station when her virtual character fell to its untimely death. she would run across playgrounds in dirty plastic-and-foam flip flops, her red hair flying behind her, in tangles with grass blades threaded throughout. she was the laugh that always made you smile, the big glass of milk with cookies on the side. she was the orange soda mustache. flash forward seven years, and you have a girl trying to put her carefree past behind her. she is growing up too fast and now her eyes are smeared with black mascara and black eyeliner and knee high socks. the freckles that still pepper across her face always take me back to those endless summer days playing hide and seek in the forest and catching fireflies at night with the neighborhood kids. now she’s in the room next to me with her angsty music blasted too loud and her laughter spilling into the upstairs hall as she talks to a boy on her phone. she’s knock off doc martens, and black nail polish and a book in her hand. she’s the kind of beautiful that make people stop on the street and stare. she’s the side-comment that makes you laugh until your sides hurt. she’s the open mind you just want to work your way into.
Arizona is five months pregnant the second time around before she lets Callie start talking about names. They’d both been thinking about them, but until she was sure, and until they found out they were having a healthy baby girl, Arizona refused to discuss it.
“What about Dakota?”
“Oh! How about Montana..? Like that girl who works at our coffee shop. That’s cute.”
There’s a mischievous glint in dark eyes as Callie sits cross-legged beside her, her palm rubbing the ever-growing baby bump as Arizona just rolls her eyes.
“Definitely no. I was thinking maybe–”
“Wyoming! Wyoming Torres. Now that’s a great name. Unique.”
When the pillow collides with the side of her head, Callie can only bust out laughing, and then it smacks her again, harder, and she raises her hands in surrender, falling backwards along the length of the couch.
“I was going for a mother-daughter theme!”
Arizona pushes herself up and hovers over her wife, expanding midsection bumping into hers, and as Callie continues laughing, the blonde pinches her in the side – hard and completely unapologetic. She grew up with the name Arizona, after all – she knows how to fight dirty on the playground.