The hope of age eleven belonged to Severus, not to Camelia. She knew she was a witch. When she was six, to escape the pinching and venting of Emma's frustrations, Camelia had accidentally discovered she possessed a strange power that allowed her to move objects freely and make herself feel weightless.
And this exact scene happened to be witnessed by her father, Gross, who had not returned home for a long time.
On Gross's face was an undisguised shock, and he muttered, "You actually turned out to be... a wizard."
With that, he began to sway and laugh uproariously, filled with derision and madness, "Who would have thought you'd actually be a wizard, hahahaha..."
After a burst of wild laughter, Gross simply left the house. But unlike his usual calm detachment and disgust, he seemed somewhat unable to accept this reality.
At that time, Camelia saw that Gross's eyes were filled with envy and pain. Envy Camelia could understand, for no one would not yearn for extraordinary power, but the pain was something she did not quite grasp.
Nor was there any need to understand; Camelia did not possess such an exuberant curiosity.
Only, after learning of Camelia's peculiarity, her father Gross returned to this dilapidated house less and less often. Camelia knew Gross simply did not want to watch her use this magical power.
So she took to slipping out of the house silently to explore this power on her own elsewhere.
Whether Emma had realized something or not, she seemed to loosen her supervision over Camelia.
Because of this, Camelia gained more free time, making her look even more like a stray child wandering the alleys.
Another "day out" fell on a sunny Tuesday.
Yet this time, Camelia found her territory occupied by the boy named Severus from the Snape family.
That spot was neither too close nor too far from the increasingly filthy river, just far enough that the stench from the water could not quite reach it. It was not her private property, however, and on rare occasions, she would run into other children from Spinner's End there.
Just like now.
Camelia hid behind the low wall by the riverbank, poking her head over the top to observe the fellow who had occupied her turf beneath the tree.
Young Severus was currently hugging his knees, resting his chin on them, staring blankly at the river's surface.
Yet there was nothing worth looking at in that river; it was neither clear nor swift, flowing sluggishly while carrying trash along with it.
The youthful Camelia had neither spare curiosity nor sympathy to care whether Severus looked distressed or uneasy.
She only knew that this fellow across the street shared her miserable plight, and was the sole child in this neighborhood with whom she had never interacted.
Children of this age are vicious. Because of Camelia's impoverished and dirty appearance, which was even worse than theirs, and her bizarre habit of rarely leaving the house, the other children in the neighborhood regarded her as a freak, calling her a madwoman.
"A little blind girl, just like that blind old hag!" They would always tease her like this, pulling at her weed-like hair with their hands.
Only Severus, even when witnessing everything, wore an expression of indifferent detachment in his eyes.
What could possibly make that tense face break into a larger, more exaggerated expression? This was one of the few sparks of curiosity that arose in Camelia's stagnant life.
Severus had long since noticed the familiar gaze fixed on him from behind, and he originally intended to scold and chase off this detestable Muggle child.
Yet when he turned his head, he met only the empty top of the wall.
This wretch hid truly fast.
Was someone else's misery really that entertaining?!
As if it wasn't enough to watch from the opposite house, she had even followed him all the way here!
"Get out here!" Severus steadied himself against the tree and shouted toward the wall opposite him.
There was no response, as if it were merely Severus's own hallucination. But as the wind blew past, a small tuft of flaxen hair was exposed at the corner of the wall.
"I said, get out here." Severus walked straight over and grabbed a handful of the hair sticking out from the side of the wall.
Then, before he could guard against it, he found himself staring straight into a pair of dark, purplish eyes.
"Let go." This was the first time Severus had heard this Muggle child speak; her voice was hoarse and dry.
"What are you doing? Who gave you permission to spy on me?" Severus did not let go as Camelia demanded, but instead yanked even harder.
Across the low wall, Severus discovered that even when standing straight, Camelia was more than half a head shorter than him, allowing him to easily look down on her.
"Because that's my spot," Camelia replied with a dry voice.
"Your spot?" Severus sneered, his thin, pinched face wearing a look of adult-like derision. "You want to mark territory like a pack of stray dogs? And your chosen spot is a filthy ditch?"
Camelia ignored Severus's mockery. She pried open the hand Severus had wrapped in her hair, and then, under his disgusted gaze, smoothed down her tangled locks a few times.
Once she finished, she looked at Severus's greasy hair with a hint of perplexity.
Perhaps because Camelia's puzzled gaze was too direct, it inevitably stirred up anger in Severus's heart.
"Do you want to go blind like your blind mother?"
The moment the words left his mouth, Severus braced himself, expecting Camelia to rush forward and pick a fight with him.
Right now, he needed an outlet for the complex emotions roiling in his chest and his lingering resentment over being spied on by Camelia for so long.
He watched Camelia warily, his body taut, his hands balled into fists by his sides.
Camelia moved, but all she did was brace her hands against the wall and vault over to stand right in front of Severus.
Seeing Severus's defensive stance, Camelia remained bewildered. "I have no intention of fighting you."
She patted the dust from her hands and continued, "You can't beat me."
Then, she corrected herself, "Well, not necessarily, I suppose."
Camelia turned her head to look at Severus. "The window breaking this morning—that was your doing, wasn't it?"
Disregarding Severus's look of startled caution, Camelia's dark purple eyes stared straight into his, and amidst his tense and complex expression, she softly spoke: "You are a wizard."
Her voice was very quiet, yet it struck Severus's ears like a thunderclap.
Severus had known for a long time that he possessed magic, but this was the first time he had experienced a burst of accidental magic.
Previous magical fluctuations had appeared entirely without warning, like the unpredictable sun in Britain, but during this magical surge, Severus could clearly feel that he was able to control the magic himself.
This seemed to portend that he truly was a normal wizard, rather than some defective, unreliable knock-off product.
Yet Severus had never imagined that the Muggle girl living across the street would be able to perceive the magic he had released.
There was only one possible explanation.
—Perhaps she was a wizard, too.
However, since when had wizards become so common in the Muggle world?
There were already three wizards on a single street.
Severus looked into Camelia's eyes, suspicion following closely on the heels of his brief shock.
Perhaps this wretch had read stories about magic in some fairy tale book and developed fantasies about unnatural phenomena.
Although Severus genuinely yearned for a fellow wizard to talk to, that did not mean he would blindly believe the ravings of someone who likely inherited a streak of madness.
Though he was reluctant to admit it, Severus himself often observed the girl living across from him with quiet detachment.
Yet Severus had never seen a single sign on Camelia indicating that she possessed magic.
Camelia had never experienced a magical surge, not even when she was being beaten by Emma.
If Camelia truly were a wizard yet showed no signs of it whatsoever, then either she was a Squib, or...
Her magic was terrifyingly stable. Taking it a step further, Camelia's mastery over magic was already completely unlike that of a child.
Severus considered this possibility, but quickly dismissed it. After all, judging by Camelia's family background, the likelihood of her being a Squib was much higher.
Yet reality turned out precisely the opposite of what Severus had imagined.
Camelia watched with slight astonishment as the surprise on Severus's face faded into a mask of doubt.
Thinking she would get to see a look of utter panic on his usually gloomy face, Camelia thought with a touch of disappointment.
She took a step forward to close the distance between them, and extended a calloused palm before the deep-in-thought Severus.
A small leaf drifted obediently down into Camelia's palm.
It was so emerald-green and brimming with the breath of life that Severus, snapping out of his contemplation, found his gaze inevitably drawn to this unusually obedient leaf.
What was she trying to do?
The thought flashed through Severus's mind, and he seemed to understand that Camelia was trying to prove something.
Under the gaze of four eyes, the emerald-green leaf gradually transformed into a small metal blade.
Transfiguration?!
And wandless transfiguration at that.
Severus's gaze snapped up to look at Camelia, but he saw only a calm expression on her face, as if this were nothing more than a trivial matter.
"You really are a witch," Severus said, striving to keep his voice calm despite the repressed excitement trembling within it.
Though Severus put on an expression implying that it was no big deal even if she were a witch, Camelia still caught the flush of excitement rising beneath his pale, sallow skin.
"That's right, I truly am a wizard—a wizard just like you."
Two pairs of eyes, different in color yet gleaming with the same intensity, locked onto each other. Driven by some inexplicable impulse, a silent understanding seemed to pass between them in the meeting of their gazes—the mutual recognition of finding one of their own kind.
Seeing the amusement dancing in Camelia's dark purple eyes, Severus suddenly had a premonition: if not for that magical outburst, and if Camelia had not taken the initiative to step forward, perhaps he would never have known that right across from his house lived a wizard of his exact same age.
"What's your name?" Severus asked.
"Camelia Gross."
"I—"
"Severus, I already know your name."
Camelia interrupted Severus, speaking directly; she had known his name for a very long time.