HP: At the beginning, I influenced Snape's childhood.

—Your heart is like the moon, its light illuminating the passing years—

My name is Severus Snape. I have a wonderful family. My parents have a great relationship and they love me very much. I thought it would stay that way forever, but I later realized how ridiculous that idea was.

After my father lost his job, he started drinking and gambling. My mother tried to persuade him to stop, but he would smash things instead. However, he never hit us. Later, my father discovered my mother's strange abilities and believed that she had brought him bad luck.

He only beat my mother, but when I accidentally discovered that I also had that strange ability, I tried my best to hide it, but I was discovered. From then on, my mother and I became the tools for him to vent his anger.

I don't understand. Are all people with this kind of ability monsters? I haven't done anything wrong, yet I'm born wrong. My peers call me a monster, and they consider it justice to beat and scold me. Even the drunkards and homeless people in Spider's End see me as filthy, afraid of being tainted by bad luck. But I haven't done anything...

My father's gambling addiction deepened, and he wouldn't listen to anyone's advice. Why didn't my mother resist? She could have. Since she wouldn't resist, then I will.

Unsurprisingly, I failed. I was then subjected to even harsher beatings and verbal abuse, but my mother still ignored me; she didn't even care about herself. For the first time in my life, I began to doubt my parents. What was my mother's purpose?

I'm numb now. My daily life consists of living in fear of being beaten and verbally abused, working hard to earn money, not having enough to eat, not sleeping well, and getting new scars on my body every day. It doesn't matter anymore. There's no light in the darkness. I know that. I've known it for a long time.

That man hit me again that day. Yes, I no longer call him father. My knee is still not healed, but he ignored me.

But then suddenly a strange man walked in. Why strange? He possessed monstrous abilities, and his attire didn't resemble the dilapidated state of Spider's End. Ha, how ridiculous, even I admit I'm a monster.

He wants to take me away? I don't know him, but he looks very powerful. I had long since given up hope on that man, but I still couldn't bear to leave my mother behind... So I looked at my mother, but ever since the tragedy that befell our family, she has never looked at me.

Why? If you had just looked at me once, my resolve to leave wouldn't have been so strong. I am your son, why won't you even look at me?

Yes, I left that place, following that man without understanding why. I caught the blue origami crane that shone like light, and in the darkness, I seemed to hear a voice calling me to follow him. Later I realized that it was the bright moonlight that had inadvertently shone into my dark world.

The gentleman treated me exceptionally well, which made me somewhat confused and uneasy, yet I knew I cherished this warm feeling. He seemed to have noticed my inferiority complex, and thus bestowed upon me the greatest ability in life—self-esteem and self-confidence.

He asked me to call him Mo, which felt a little disrespectful, but I did it anyway. I accidentally saw the scar on his left arm, and he apologized, saying he was afraid of scaring me. But I actually wanted to say that I wasn't scared at all; I just felt inexplicably sorry for him.

But in the end, I still didn't say it, because he hugged me, like a trembling soul crawling out of the abyss and seeing the light of day again. Maybe I was overthinking it. How could someone as gentle as him be like someone as wretched as me?

But the tighter he hugged me, the more I felt that he was like nothingness, not truly existing here, not completely rooted, as if he would leave at any moment, so I hugged him tighter too.

This is the first Christmas and birthday I've had since that man lost his job. He gave me a lot of gifts, which looked very precious and thoughtful, but there's something I want that I haven't dared to tell him. Actually, I don't need anything, I just want him to stay with me. I can't bear to go through this alone again.

—The sky is the color of rain, waiting for the mist to fall, and I am waiting for you—

Perhaps it was because I didn't speak out that Merlin punished me, and you left. I searched for you for a very long time, but you still didn't come out. I took out the dagger you gave me, but when I hardened my heart, it was knocked away, as if you were stopping me... But why won't you come out?

Mo, I listened to you, I listened very well. I exercised diligently, paid close attention to hygiene, and took good care of myself... I'm sorry, I failed to protect myself.

You said a man's knees are worth their weight in gold, so I've never knelt, not even unintentionally half-squatting, my knees never touching the ground. The Dark Lord made me kneel, but I didn't, not even when faced with the prospect of having my bones ripped out. He was "appreciative" of my talent, and didn't use the Killing Curse on me in a fit of anger. (Voldemort probably won't let Snape off easily, but whatever, I just can't kneel!)

I became a spy to protect Lily, who was, in a way, my only friend. When I first met her, I thought light had returned to my life, but I later realized that some people's light is given to everyone who gets close to them, but Mo's light was given only to me.

I said the wrong thing and broke off relations with Lily. I regret that damn "Mudblood." She married one of the people I hated most, that Potter. Watching their wedding, I felt a pang of sadness. As for Lily, I still only considered her a friend.

Because of my mistake, the Dark Lord wants to kill Lily's children. I must protect them, whether it's to atone for my sins or something else. I don't want to owe anyone else anything besides Mo.

I failed... Sigh, am I really useless? I couldn't stop anyone around me from leaving. I'm sorry I disappointed you, and I'm disappointed in myself too.

—The Milky Way shines brightly in my dreams—

I dreamt of you, Mo. I don't know why, but almost twenty years later, I still remember what you look like. I'm so lucky.

That morning, I had just woken up because I had a very long dream in which you came back. I went to Malfoy Manor, but I saw a child who looked just like you, except for the eyes.

Even their names sound the same. His eyes are your favorite color. If he weren't still a child, I would definitely think it was you who came back.

I couldn't resist and attacked him with magic. Actually, I only used a little bit of magic to test him, but he couldn't handle magic. I thought he would have some powerful magic like you, but the truth is that he's a Muggle.

But I don't have time to worry about that now. He's hurt, hurt because of me. Why am I so worried? Why does my heart ache? Is it just because you two look alike? I don't want to believe it.

I don't want to believe you haven't come back yet. I can't wait for you any longer. By the time Harry enrolls, my life might be counting down, and you might never see me again. But I also don't want this to be you. I'm afraid that if you come back, I'll hurt you.

What did he say? "It's raining, tell me to go home early. Is it going to thunder?" Mo, is that you? You're back.

I watched him walk into the rain, dragging his frail body with his brother, disappearing into the thick fog. The rain was pouring down; I couldn't see you, and I didn't dare follow. I didn't even dare ask where you lived. And rightly so, after all, I was the one who hurt you; I had no reason to bother you again.

Let's just say you're disappointed in me, perhaps you don't want to see me again, and this time you just want to live a normal life. I should be content; it's my luck to see you again.

—May you not forget me even after many years—

He wants to see me? Filled with anticipation and unease, I tidied myself up—not much really, just washed my hair and took a shower, and changed into clothes other than the black robe. Mo, that was the one you gave me.

I've never believed in telepathy, but in this bustling city, our eyes met without a trace of hesitation, as if we were meant to meet.

You seem to have recovered a lot, grown taller, and are no longer so thin. I feel a little heartache and a little guilt, as well as a sense of relief that shouldn't belong to me, the culprit who hurt you.

You want to drink, and I shouldn't have agreed; you're just a child. But when I look at your face, I always mistake you for Mo. I'm sorry, please let me indulge myself this once, and treat you like Mo. Otherwise, I'm afraid I won't have the courage to keep going.

I only just learned that you finally possessed magic, and that you were learning magic with Draco. I had more reasons to be with you, but the more I was with you, the more I wanted to treat you as Mo. Yet, every time, you would show me through your actions the very next second that your name was Mo.

Then I refused to believe that it was all just my imagination. I couldn't wait to test you, but you revealed too many flaws, so many that I couldn't believe my own judgment. Or rather... every test ended either with you getting hurt or with me getting angry.

You don't understand, do you? I'm sorry, I mistook you for someone else. Maybe my repeated and ridiculous tests annoy you, but you clearly have the right to hate me. Why don't you push me away? If you just show even a little bit of disgust towards me, I can leave you and stop bothering you. I don't want to hurt you anymore.

I imagine you must be feeling really bad. With your intelligence, you couldn't possibly not notice that the way I was looking at you was off; I was seeing someone else through your eyes. But you two are just so alike, so alike that if I'm not paying attention, I'll unconsciously mistake you for Mo.

I'm sorry... This is the countless times I've silently said sorry, but every time I meet your trusting gaze, this word comes to mind.

This time, I want to push you away. I'm sorry, please don't come near me. I don't want to helplessly accept the departure of those around me again. Please, don't come near me.

Mo, I'm sorry... Don't come near me. I don't deserve to face your warmth. Even a sliver of light from you would expose me completely.

Author's rambling: I don't know how to write the protagonist. Two options.

The first approach is to grow strong from the start, maxing out basic attributes and quickly learning all skills. The second approach starts from the basics, which has many flaws, but I don't think it quite fits Xiao Mo's title of King of Spies.

The first type is the invincible general, and the second type is the learner who starts from scratch. The second type might be harder to write; I'm not very good at it.

Besides, there's no love right now (ಥ㉨ಥ). I really don't know where you got the idea that there is love.