Before Hogwarts: Snape’s Childhood and What the Text Actually Shows
[ He fell headlong into sunlight, and his feet found warm ground. When he straightened up, he saw that he was in a nearly deserted playground. A single, huge chimney dominated the distant skyline. Two girls were swinging backwards and forwards, and a skinny boy was watching them from behind a clump of bushes. His black hair was overlong and his clothes were so mismatched that it looked deliberate: too-short jeans, a shabby, overlarge coat that might have belonged to a grown man, an odd smock-like shirt.]
In this passage, there are several notable details concerning Severus’s appearance and behavior. His “overlong” hair, ill-fitting clothes, and the clear lack of alteration or mending point to prolonged neglect rather than simple poverty. In post–World War II Britain, even by the 1960s and 1970s, while the war was long over, sections of the working class still lived with material and infrastructural limitations. However, cutting a child’s hair at home or altering second-hand clothing was both feasible and fairly common, even in poor families, as it was a minimal way of maintaining dignity and helping children blend in socially. Severus’s untrimmed hair and unadjusted clothing therefore suggest not an inability to do so, but a lack of sustained care.
In addition, his choice to watch from behind a clump of bushes is not a typical response for a child attempting to make friends. Children of this age usually approach those they wish to interact with directly, even if they are shy. Severus’s decision to remain hidden and observe from a distance indicates a heightened level of wariness and self-protection, more consistent with a child accustomed to rejection, harm, or an environment in which initiating contact does not feel safe.
[Harry moved closer to the boy. Snape looked no more than nine or ten years old, sallow, small, stringy. There was undisguised greed in his thin face as he watched the younger of the two girls swinging higher and higher than her sister.]
The placement of the three adjectives — “small, sallow, stringy” — at the end of the sentence is significant. Rather than being redundant, this clustering works as an accumulative emphasis. The wording strongly suggests that the description is meant to foreground Snape’s physical condition rather than simply his appearance. Read together, the terms suggest frailty, poor nourishment, and stunted development, pointing to an ongoing issue with health and care rather than a momentary or genetic trait.
Snape’s gaze suggests a desire for connection — the attention of a child who wants to belong but does not yet dare to approach.
[‘Lily, don’t do it!’ shrieked the elder of the two.
But the girl had let go of the swing at the very height of its arc and flown into the air, quite literally flown, launched herself skywards with a great shout of laughter, and instead of crumpling on the playground asphalt, she soared, like a trapeze artist through the air, staying up far too long, landing far too lightly.
Petunia stopped her swing by dragging the heels of her sandals on the ground, making a crunching, grinding sound, then leapt up, hands on hips.
‘Mummy said you weren’t allowed, Lily!’
‘But I’m fine,’ said Lily, still giggling. ‘Tuney, look at this. Watch what I can do.’
Petunia glanced around. The playground was deserted apart from themselves and, though the girls did not know it, Snape. Lily had picked up a fallen flower from the bush behind which Snape lurked. Petunia advanced, evidently torn between curiosity and disapproval. Lily waited until Petunia was near enough to have a clear view, then held out her palm. The flower sat there, opening and closing its petals, like some bizarre, many-lipped oyster.
‘Stop it!’ shrieked Petunia.
‘It’s not hurting you,’ said Lily, but she closed her hand on the blossom and threw it back to the ground.
‘It’s not right,’ said Petunia, but her eyes had followed the flower’s flight to the ground and lingered upon it. ‘How do you do it?’ she added, and there was definite longing in her voice.]
Through Lily’s ease in displaying magic and her delight in play, she is presented as a carefree, energetic child who has not yet fully internalised social boundaries or prohibitions imposed by adults. Her behaviour is spontaneous and uninhibited, consistent with a child who has not been conditioned to exercise strong self-restraint.
Petunia’s reaction, by contrast, reflects a different behavioural pattern. Her repeated references to “mummy told you…” and “mummy said…” are clear indicators of a child echoing adult authority rather than expressing an independently formed judgement. ‘Petunia glances around’, checking their surroundings before responding, as a form of watchfulness, as though she is monitoring Lily rather than simply reacting to her, the reflex of an older sibling keeping an eye on a younger one. The statement “it’s not right” does not arise from an understanding of the act itself, but from moral evaluations she has already absorbed. At this age, a child’s concept of what is “right” or “wrong” is largely shaped by the language and attitudes of adults.
Importantly, Petunia’s response is not one of pure rejection or fear. She continues to watch the flower and asks, “How do you do it?”, revealing a curiosity that is entirely typical of children when confronted with something unfamiliar. This suggests that Petunia is caught between natural curiosity and the behavioural norms she has been taught to uphold, rather than displaying inherent hostility or prejudice.
[ ‘It’s obvious, isn’t it?’ Snape could no longer contain himself, but had jumped out from behind the bushes. Petunia shrieked and ran backwards towards the swings, but Lily, though clearly startled, remained where she was. Snape seemed to regret his appearance. A dull flush of colour mounted the sallow cheeks as he looked at Lily.
‘What’s obvious?’ asked Lily.
Snape had an air of nervous excitement. With a glance at the distant Petunia, now hovering beside the swings, he lowered his voice and said, ‘I know what you are.’ ]
After witnessing an instance of magic — something he himself also possesses — Snape’s instinct to connect with a kindred individual is triggered. In an isolated environment where others like him are rare, recognizing someone with similar traits and of a similar age creates a powerful pull. This is a common response in humans, who are, after all, a social species. Snape leaves his position of relative safety as an observer and acts.
The verb “jumped out” does not suggest a calm or deliberate approach, but a sudden, impulsive movement, indicating an intense urge combined with immaturity and social awkwardness.
The contrasting reactions of the two sisters, Petunia shrieking and retreating, Lily startled but remaining where she is, immediately cause Snape to “regret his appearance.” The detail that “a dull flush of colour mounted the sallow cheeks” shows that he is aware of others’ reactions and capable of feeling embarrassment, demonstrating an ability to read social cues rather than emotional insensitivity.
Snape quickly adjusts his behaviour: he glances at Petunia in the distance and lowers his voice. Although the line “I know what you are” is clearly not an appropriate way to initiate a social interaction, it is unreasonable to expect polished social conduct from a child who shows signs of neglect in basic care, who “had an air of nervous excitement”, and making his first attempt to step out of observation and engage with another person.
[‘You’re ... you’re a witch,’ whispered Snape.
‘That’s not a very nice thing to say to somebody!’
She turned, nose in the air, and marched off towards her sister.
‘No!’ said Snape. He was highly coloured now, and Harry wondered why he did not take off the ridiculously large coat, unless it was because he did not want to reveal the smock beneath it. He flapped after the girls, looking ludicrously bat-like, like his older self.
The sisters considered him, united in disapproval, both holding on to one of the swing poles as though it was the safe place in tag.
‘You are,’ said Snape to Lily. ‘You are a witch. I’ve been watching you for a while. But there’s nothing wrong with that. My mum’s one, and I’m a wizard.’]
Within traditional British cultural contexts, the term “witch” is not a neutral or positive label when applied directly to a person. Since the medieval period, it has been closely associated with superstition, fear, and social stigma, and is therefore an inappropriate way to address someone, particularly as an opening gesture toward forming a relationship. Children may not understand the historical weight or origins of such attitudes, but they absorb them through the reactions and language of the adults around them, whether or not they are consciously aware of doing so. Lily’s “affronted” reaction is thus reasonable and notably restrained: she does not insult Severus in return, but instead rejects the label and removes herself from the interaction.
In response, Severus does not react with anger or insistence, but immediately attempts to explain himself. His statement, “My mum’s one, and I’m a wizard,” indicates a sincere effort to clarify that his words were not intended as an insult, but rather as an identification of something he understands as ordinary within his own experience. While this is not a socially adept way to initiate contact, it is consistent with the behaviour of a child who lacks social fluency and is attempting to correct a misstep as soon as he realises he has caused discomfort.
[ Petunia’s laugh was like cold water.
‘Wizard!’ she shrieked, her courage returned now that she had recovered from the shock of his unexpected appearance. ‘I know who you are. You’re that Snape boy! They live down Spinner’s End by the river,’ she told Lily, and it was evident from her tone that she considered the address a poor recommendation. ‘Why have you been spying on us?’
‘Haven’t been spying,’ said Snape, hot and uncomfortable and dirty-haired in the bright sunlight. ‘Wouldn’t spy on you, anyway,’ he added spitefully, ‘you’re a Muggle.’
Though Petunia evidently did not understand the word, she could hardly mistake the tone.
‘Lily, come on, we’re leaving!’ she said shrilly. Lily obeyed her sister at once, glaring at Snape as she left. He stood watching them as they marched through the playground gate, and Harry, the only one left to observe him, recognised Snape’s bitter disappointment, and understood that Snape had been planning this moment for a while, and that it had all gone wrong … ]
Petunia’s reaction differs markedly from Lily’s. Rather than responding with uncertainty or politeness, she laughs contemptuously and immediately identifies Severus by name and address — “You’re that Snape boy! They live down Spinner’s End by the river” — in a tone that the text itself clearly marks as judgmental. The emphasis on his place of residence functions not merely as identification, but as an implicit class-based evaluation. The line “I know who you are” suggests that Petunia’s perception of Severus is not formed through direct personal experience, but is instead shaped by prior narratives circulating in her environment. This aligns with a broader pattern within Rowling’s depiction of British social settings, where personal background and living conditions readily become subjects of commentary and judgment. As early as the opening chapters of the first book, the narrative establishes a culture of social scrutiny and gossip; there is therefore little reason to assume that such tendencies would have been less prevalent in the 1970s than they are shown to be in the 1990s.
Faced with the accusation of “spying,” Severus responds in a clearly defensive manner. He immediately denies the charge and counters with the statement “you’re a Muggle,” not as a deliberate slur, but as an attempt to undermine the premise of the accusation by asserting that Petunia is not someone worth observing. In canon, “Muggle” functions as a neutral term for non-magical people and is used routinely even by characters firmly aligned with the moral centre of the series, such as McGonagall and Arthur Weasley. This exchange illustrates that Severus does not initiate the interaction with hostile intent; however, his lack of social skill, combined with a reflexive defensive posture, causes the encounter to escalate and results in both sisters taking offence.
[ The scene dissolved, and before Harry knew it, reformed around him. He was now in a small thicket of trees. He could see a sunlit river glittering through their trunks. The shadows cast by the trees made a basin of cool, green shade. Two children sat facing each other, cross-legged on the ground. Snape had removed his coat now; his odd smock looked less peculiar in the half-light.
‘... and the Ministry can punish you if you do magic outside school, you get letters.’
‘But I have done magic outside school!’ ‘We’re all right. We haven’t got wands yet. They let you off when you’re a kid and you can’t help it. But once you’re eleven,’ he nodded importantly, ‘and they start training you, then you’ve got to go careful.’
There was a little silence. Lily had picked up a fallen twig and twirled it in the air, and Harry knew that she was imagining sparks trailing from it. Then she dropped the twig, leaned in towards the boy, and said, ‘It is real, isn’t it? It’s not a joke? Petunia says you’re lying to me. Petunia says there isn’t a Hogwarts. It is real, isn’t it?’
‘It’s real for us,’ said Snape. ‘Not for her. But we’ll get the letter, you and me.’
‘Really?’ whispered Lily.
‘Definitely,’ said Snape, and even with his poorly cut hair and his odd clothes, he struck an oddly impressive figure sprawled in front of her, brimful of confidence in his destiny. ]
It is likely that some time has passed here, a span that J. K. Rowling does not describe in detail, but one long enough for the two children to have become friends. Within this unwritten interval, Severus has gradually allowed himself to open up — a shift made visible by the moment he removes his outer coat, revealing the odd smock beneath it in front of Lily. For a child in Severus’s circumstances, this is neither an instantaneous change nor an excessively long one; it reflects a cautious but plausible pace of developing trust.
In their conversation, Severus takes an active role in explaining the rules and boundaries of the wizarding world: the Ministry’s oversight, the leniency shown toward children who perform magic without wands, and the significance of turning eleven, when formal training begins. His manner combines straightforward information with the earnest seriousness of a child who feels, perhaps for the first time, that he possesses knowledge about his own future.
More importantly, Severus does not merely answer Lily’s questions; he reassures her when she doubts the reality of Hogwarts. The statement “It’s real for us” and his certainty that “we’ll get the letter” place him in a position of confirmation rather than dependence. Severus is not being guided in this interaction; he is the one who holds the knowledge, affirms the reality, and offers reassurance. The confidence described as being “brimful of confidence in his destiny” does not arise from Lily’s validation, but exists independently and is shared with her — a deliberate, if tentative, act by a child who is learning how to connect with another person.
[ ‘And will it really come by owl?’ Lily whispered.
‘Normally,’ said Snape. ‘But you’re Muggle-born, so someone from the school will have to come and explain to your parents.’
‘Does it make a difference, being Muggle-born?’
Snape hesitated. His black eyes, eager in the greenish gloom, moved over the pale face, the dark red hair.
‘No,’ he said. ‘It doesn’t make any difference.’
‘Good,’ said Lily, relaxing: it was clear that she had been worrying.
‘You’ve got loads of magic,’ said Snape. ‘I saw that. All the time I was watching you …’
His voice trailed away; she was not listening, but had stretched out on the leafy ground and was looking up at the canopy of leaves overhead. He watched her as greedily as he had watched her in the playground. ]
Severus is simply stating a straightforward fact of the wizarding world: children born into Muggle families will have a representative from the school come to explain matters. Lily is the one who actively raises the question of whether being Muggle-born makes a difference. Severus’s brief hesitation at this point is not sufficient to constitute evidence of any form of prejudice; it is unreasonable to expect a child to produce an immediate and perfectly articulated response to every question, especially when the text has already shown Severus to be cautious and self-conscious in this friendship. More importantly, that hesitation is immediately resolved by a clear and unequivocal answer: “No” and “It doesn’t make any difference.” He further affirms Lily’s magical ability (“You’ve got loads of magic”), which directly contradicts readings that attribute blood- or class-based bias to him.
After this reassurance, Lily visibly relaxes and no longer pays close attention to the conversation, while Severus continues to speak and to watch her. This asymmetry does not suggest any improper intent; rather, it reflects an imbalance in emotional investment. At this stage, Severus is more attached to, and more engaged in, the interaction than Lily is.
[ ‘How are things at your house?’ Lily asked.
A little crease appeared between his eyes.
‘They’re not arguing any more?’
‘Oh, yes, they’re arguing,’ said Snape. He picked up a fistful of leaves and began tearing them apart, apparently unaware of what he was doing. ‘But it won’t be that long and I’ll be gone.’
‘Doesn’t your dad like magic?’
‘He doesn’t like anything, much,’ said Snape. ]
In this passage, Severus’s discomfort when the topic turns to his family is conveyed through a consistent pattern: nonverbal reactions paired with curtailed verbal responses. Each time Lily asks a question about his home life, Severus shows signs of tension before or during his reply—most notably the crease between his eyes and the unconscious act of tearing apart a handful of leaves, apparently unaware of what he is doing.
At the same time, Severus keeps his answers to a minimum: “Fine.”, “Yes, they’re arguing.”, “He doesn’t like anything, much.” He does not elaborate, does not volunteer additional information, and does not attempt to steer the conversation further. Each question is met with a single, clipped response—sufficient to answer, but clearly intended to close off the subject.
The repetition of these two elements—unconscious actions that externalize tension and brief, closing replies—forms a clear pattern, indicating that Severus is uncomfortable and actively avoids engaging when he is required to speak about his family.
A little smile twisted Snape’s mouth when she said his name.
‘Tell me about the Dementors again.’
‘What d’you want to know about them for?’
‘If I use magic outside school –’
‘They wouldn’t give you to the Dementors for that! Dementors are for people who do really bad stuff. They guard the wizard prison, Azkaban. You’re not going to end up in Azkaban, you’re too –’
He turned red again and shredded more leaves.]
This tense state shifts immediately when Lily calls him by name. The text explicitly notes that “a little smile twisted Snape’s mouth” at the sound of it. This reaction precedes any discussion of Dementors and cannot be attributed to the topic itself; it is triggered solely by being addressed. Without offering comfort or probing further into his family situation, Lily redirects the conversation to the wizarding world—a domain Severus is knowledgeable about and emotionally safer for him. He responds at once, speaking more freely and at greater length.
Severus’s answer also carries an unmistakably protective and favorable tone. He reassures Lily that she would never be sent to Azkaban and begins a sentence implying a positive judgment of her before trailing off, blushing, and returning to shredding leaves. This combination of unfinished speech, embarrassment, and repeated nervous movement signals emotional exposure rather than aggression or fear.
Taken together, the passage does not suggest anything inappropriate or excessive. Instead, it illustrates an emotional imbalance: Severus is far more invested in the interaction than Lily at this point. Her simple act of calling his name is enough to pull him out of discomfort, while his continued attention and reassurance indicate that he attaches greater emotional weight to their exchanges than she does.
[ Then a small rustling noise behind Harry made him turn: Petunia, hiding behind a tree, had lost her footing.
‘Tuney!’ said Lily, surprise and welcome in her voice, but Snape had jumped to his feet.
‘Who’s spying now?’ he shouted. ‘What d’you want?’
Petunia was breathless, alarmed at being caught. Harry could see her struggling for something hurtful to say.
‘What is that you’re wearing, anyway?’ she said, pointing at Snape’s chest. ‘Your mum’s blouse?’
There was a crack: a branch over Petunia’s head had fallen. Lily screamed: the branch caught Petunia on the shoulder and she staggered backwards and burst into tears.
But Petunia was running away. Lily rounded on Snape.
‘Did you make that happen?’
‘No.’ He looked both defiant and scared.
‘You did!’ She was backing away from him. ‘You did! You hurt her!’
‘No – no I didn’t!’ But the lie did not convince Lily: after one last burning look she ran from the little thicket, off after her sister, and Snape looked miserable and confused …]
The line “Who’s spying now?” shows that Severus clearly remembers Petunia’s earlier accusation; it is a direct retort rather than an unprovoked act of aggression. Severus does not initiate conflict, but neither does he retreat when he is targeted. Petunia, instead of apologizing for her previous accusation, chooses to escalate by mocking his clothing — an attack that exposes class contempt and directly highlights Severus’s poverty, oddness, and lack of care.
Canon establishes that young witches and wizards frequently fail to control magic when under emotional stress. Harry Potter, at the age of eleven, accidentally causes Dudley to fall into the snake enclosure; at thirteen, in a burst of anger, he inflates Aunt Marge. If a child older than Severus still cannot reliably control emotional magic, it is unreasonable to expect Severus — who is only about nine or ten at this point — to do so.
Whether the incident involving Petunia results from unconscious magic or a dangerous coincidence, it occurs within a psychological context where an emotionally distressed magical child is prone to involuntary reactions. Lily’s instinctive choice to side with her sister is understandable, but the narrative consequence is that Severus is left behind — miserable and confused — exactly as the text describes. The passage does not portray him as a malicious instigator, but as a wounded child confronted with circumstances beyond his ability to manage.
This was not the first time Severus was described as wearing unusual and ill-fitting clothing, which indicates a pattern of prolonged deprivation rather than an isolated instance.
[ And the scene reformed. Harry looked around: he was on platform nine and three-quarters, and Snape stood beside him, slightly hunched, next to a thin, sallow-faced, sour-looking woman who greatly resembled him. Snape was staring at a family of four a short distance away. The two girls stood a little apart from their parents. Lily seemed to be pleading with her sister; Harry moved closer to listen.
‘... I’m sorry, Tuney, I’m sorry! Listen –’ She caught her sister’s hand and held tight to it, even though Petunia tried to pull it away. ‘Maybe once I’m there – no, listen, Tuney! Maybe once I’m there, I’ll be able to go to Professor Dumbledore and persuade him to change his mind!’
‘I don’t – want – to – go!’ said Petunia, and she dragged her hand back out of her sister’s grasp. ‘You think I want to go to some stupid castle and learn to be a – a –’
Her pale eyes roved over the platform, over the cats mewling in their owners’ arms, over the owls fluttering and hooting at each other in cages, over the students, some already in their long, black robes, loading trunks on to the scarlet steam engine or else greeting one another with glad cries after a summer apart.
‘– you think I want to be a – a freak?’
Lily’s eyes filled with tears as Petunia succeeded in tugging her hand away.
‘I’m not a freak,’ said Lily. ‘That’s a horrible thing to say.’
‘That’s where you’re going,’ said Petunia with relish. ‘A special school for freaks. You and that Snape boy ... weirdos, that’s what you two are. It’s good you’re being separated from normal people. It’s for our safety.’ ]
Snape stands at a short distance, close enough to observe but neither intervening nor able to do so while Lily is actively pleading with her sister. This is a tense, private family moment, and Snape, as an outsider and as someone Petunia already regards with hostility, has no social position from which to insert himself. His presence nearby reflects proximity rather than intrusion.
Petunia’s reaction, meanwhile, suggests hesitation rather than a fully formed prejudice. She stammers, scans the platform and the surrounding signs of the wizarding world, and only then settles on the word “freak.” This sequence indicates that the insult is not a fixed label she has readily available, but one constructed in the moment from a sense of difference and discomfort. Her language reflects an attitude still taking shape, not one already systematized or firmly taught.
[ Lily glanced towards her parents, who were looking around the platform with an air of wholehearted enjoyment, drinking in the scene. Then she looked back at her sister, and her voice was low and fierce.
‘You didn’t think it was such a freak’s school when you wrote to the Headmaster and begged him to take you.’
‘I saw his reply. It was very kind.’
‘You shouldn’t have read –’ whispered Petunia. ‘That was my private – how could you –?’
Lily gave herself away by half glancing towards where Snape stood, nearby. Petunia gasped.
‘That boy found it! You and that boy have been sneaking in my room!’
‘No – not sneaking –’ Now Lily was on the defensive. ‘Severus saw the envelope, and he couldn’t believe a Muggle could have contacted Hogwarts, that’s all! He says there must be wizards working undercover in the postal service who take care of –’
‘Apparently wizards poke their noses in everywhere!’ said Petunia, now as pale as she had been flushed. ‘Freak!’ she spat at her sister, and she flounced off to where her parents stood …]
The text provides no evidence that Severus read the contents of Petunia’s letter. The only explicit detail is that “Severus saw the envelope.” In the context of standard British correspondence, envelopes typically display both sender and recipient, making it entirely possible for him to recognise that the letter was connected to Hogwarts or Dumbledore without opening it.
It is Lily, not Severus, who states that she read the reply and discloses its content, “I saw his reply. It was very kind.”. Severus offers no commentary on the letter itself, nor is there any indication that he accessed or relayed private information. Claims that he intruded upon Petunia’s correspondence therefore lack textual support.
Finally, a neglected or emotionally abandoned child does not need to meet every possible criterion, as neglect exists on a spectrum with varying degrees and manifestations. However, the core indicators commonly include poor personal hygiene and unkempt appearance, a weak or underdeveloped physical condition; distorted expressions of emotional need (particularly excessive craving for affection); heightened defensiveness and shyness; difficulty regulating emotions; and underdeveloped social interaction skills.
These indicators are not inferred in isolation, but can be directly cross-referenced with the canon details previously analysed in relation to Severus Snape.
