(Revised Version)
A huge chimney rose starkly against the distant horizon.
Two girls were on the swings, while a skinny boy hid behind the bushes, watching them.
The boy's black hair was long, and his clothes were utterly mismatched, as though he had deliberately dressed that way: trousers that were too short, an oversized, shabby coat that looked like it belonged to an adult, and a strange shirt resembling maternity wear.
Harry walked closer to the boy. Snape looked about nine or ten, with a sallow complexion, a short, lean frame, and a thin build.
As he watched the younger girl swing higher and higher than the older one, undisguised longing showed on his thin face.
"Lily, don't do that!"
the older girl screamed.
But when the little girl reached the highest point of her swing, she let go and flew into the air. She was truly flying, laughing merrily as she launched herself toward the sky.
She did not crash heavily onto the playground's asphalt. Instead, she glided through the air like an acrobat, lingering there for a long time before landing lightly on the ground.
"Mum told you not to do that!"
Petunia dragged her heels against the ground to stop the swing with a shrill, grating screech, then jumped up with her hands on her hips.
"Mum said you're not allowed to do that, Lily!"
"But I'm fine," Lily said, still giggling. "Petunia, look at this. Look what I can do."
Petunia looked around. The playground was empty except for the two of them—and Snape, of course, though the girls did not know he was there.
Lily picked up a withered flower from the bushes where Snape was hiding.
Petunia came over, looking both curious and displeased, clearly torn inside.
Once Petunia was close enough to see