Calling in Favors
The day was sunny and warm, and the occupants of Grimmauld Place were enjoying an uncharacteristically quiet afternoon, when a man with limp, black hair and billowing black robes appeared in a small space between numbers eleven and thirteen. The man looked around as if to survey his surroundings and then, turning on his heel, disappeared just as quickly as he'd come.
Xxx
Severus Snape strode up the drive to his ancestral home, his long, black robes billowing like a pair of great bat wings behind him. Thrown against a backdrop of small houses, a castle, and lush, green countryside, he appeared to be great inkblot on an otherwise lovely Renaissance painting. But that was neither here nor there; Severus Snape was on a mission. The front doors swung inward the moment he was within arms' reach, and he crossed the foyer with a persistent click, click, click. He traveled up the stairs, down the hall, around the corner and into a lavish study, the tap of his heels becoming muffled thuds as he paced from one end of the room to the other.
He had no idea how he was going to come about that book.
"Curses!" He swore, kicking a padded leather ottoman as he passed it. The offensive footrest sailed across the room on its small wheels, ricocheted off the wall, and, jostling an antique brass urn, came to a rest in front of the fireplace.
The light bulb in Snape's head clicked on.
He was a wizard, and a very powerful one at that. Surely there must be someone that still owed him a favor?
"Igor still owes me for helping him hide from the Dark Lord. And dark relics and rituals were of special interest to him when we attended University… Perhaps he could be of some assistance." He mused, stroking the non-existent hairs on his chin. "I shall give him a call. After all, it can't hurt to try."
He walked over to the fireplace, reached into the urn, and tossed a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace.
"Perdu Festung." He yelled, sticking his head into the unnaturally green flames. After a brief moment of spinning, a large sitting room came into view. It had black marble floors and equally dark furniture. A tall, slender man with graying dark hair and slate-colored robes was standing at a sidebar with his back to the fireplace.
"Igor!" Severus yelled, pulling the ottoman over to make himself more comfortable.
The man spun around at the sound of his name. "Wer ist dort? Zeigen sie sich!"
"Igor my friend, I am here."
Igor cautiously stepped around the loveseat and settled in front of the fireplace.
"Ah," he said, "Severus, it is you. For a moment I thought our old master had found me. Why don't you step through? I have brandy."
"Well… if you have brandy…"
Igor's response was a hearty laugh. "Some things never change."
Xxx
"Is there nothing you can do to help me?" Severus asked, forlorn. He had spent the past hour at Igor Karkaroff's fortress, and all the man had been able to tell him was what the book looked like.
Igor surveyed his friend. "What did you say you needed Volta de Morte for?"
"I… Personal business. I can't see how it matters."
"It matters indeed why a man like you is looking for a book like this. Its contents… they can do unspeakable things to a man's soul, Severus. How do I know you are not seeking to perform one of its rituals?"
"I am not."
"If you do not seek to use it for its intended purpose, then what are do you need it for?"
"Igor--"
"Severus, you can tell me." Severus studied the fire in front of them. "Severus look at me." Igor commanded, standing. "I am secreted away in the mountainside. I am alone all hours of the day with no human contact except yours. There's naught for leagues around but grass and mountains. Severus, I am in hiding. Who would I tell? Are you not my Secret-Keeper? Who can I talk to that you haven't already approved of?"
Snape looked at Igor and sighed. "You are right. Perhaps I am being a bit paranoid."
Karkaroff settled back down into his armchair. "If you cannot tell me, then who can you tell? Have I not kept your family safe all these years?"
After a pregnant silence, Snape sighed. "I… need it for Potter."
"Potter?"
"He's… he's discovered how the Dark Lord keeps coming back. We need the book to undo what he has done."
"You are trying to vanquish the Dark Lord?" Igor sat back and thoughtfully stroked his silver-streaked beard.
"Yes. Any help you can provide…"
"I do not have the book in my possession, Severus. I am in exile, and a book that dark… it casts a chill on the residence. I had to stow it away."
"Stow it away? Where? What did you--"
"Never fear, my friend. I said I don't have it in my possession. It is still in my ownership, of course. Did you think I were such a fool as to sell something like that? If it were to fall in the wrong hands…No, no I keep it in my vault. Wait here – I will get you the key."
Xxx
Schattendurchlauf lived up to its name. The windy street was situated high in the hills, and the lean Potions Master had to constantly keep one eye on the cobblestone road lest he lose his footing. A variety of shops selling barely legal merchandise lined either side of the zigzagged street, and there were so many witches and wizards dressed in cloaks like his that Severus felt quite at home. It's almost like being in Knockturn Alley. He thought, strolling along, stopping here and there to look at some rare potions ingredients. As browsed, he wandered into the shadow of a large building. Looking up, he realized that the façade of the building was shaped like a Hungarian Horntail. This must be Drachewölbung. He mused as he pushed open the claw-shaped door.
The inside of Drachewölbung was just as impressive as the outside. The floors were made of alternating squares of black granite and limestone, and the walls were paneled in a dark mahogany. The far end of the hall was lined in glass elevators and iron-railed staircases. Behind the high, glistening counters sat elves. Theses were not the small, bat-eared ones that Severus was used to seeing. These were far more human in appearance, with long, fine hair and human-sized, pointed ears. These were the kind of elves that Muggles wrote into their folklore. They all had slender frames and fingers, and aristocratic features. They were as beautiful as any Veela he'd ever seen, yet had the ethereal air the one would normally equate with Vampires.
"Extraordinary!" he breathed as he stepped into queue. The man in front of him turned around.
"First time in Schattendurchlauf? I was surprised to see them too." He said, gesturing towards the counter. "Not like the elves back home, are they?"
"No." Severus replied.
"I heard from a colleague of mine that they're the result of a treaty between the Veela and Vampires."
"Really?"
"Mmm. As legend has it, they were at war. The Vampires wanted a cease-fire, but the Veela didn't trust them as far as they could throw them. Said they wanted 'collateral'. Insurance to make sure the Vampires kept up their end of the bargain. Well, the Vamps told them to name their price, and the Veela asked for all their first-born sons. Apparently this is what you get when a Veela and a Vampire come together. They call themselves 'Celtic' Elves and house-elves 'Brownies'."
"Do they?"
"Yep. I'm Parsons, by the way." He added, extending his hand.
"Snape." Severus replied, shaking his hand.
"I can help the next in line," a teller called, the silver number 6 floating above them lighting up.
"That'd be me." Parsons said, shaking Severus' hand, "It was nice talking to you."
"Certainly."
"If you're ever in the Abbey, look me up." He called over his shoulder.
The number 2 lit up. "Sir, if you're ready?"
Severus stepped over to the counter.
"Welcome to Drachewölbung, sir. What can I do for you?" the elf (whose gender Severus was having a hard time identifying) asked politely.
"I'd like to visit vault number ten thirteen, please."
"Sure," replied the elf, "I just need to see your key and some identification."
"Identification?" Severus asked, "I'm not from around here… I'm not sure what you mean."
"Oh, not too much – just an operator's license or some other kind of ID."
"I'm not from the Continent."
"Ah…" said the elf, "You're an islander. I see. Well surely you must have some form of identification? A visa, or something similar? No? Are you licensed to Apparate, sir?"
"Yes…"
"Surely you must have been issued some type of license for that? Do you have it on you?"
"Yes…" Severus rummaged around in his robes until he produced a waxed square of parchment that proclaimed him adept at Apparition. "Here it is."
The elf took the license, examined it, looked over Snape, and handed it back to him.
"And you're an authorized user of this account?"
"Yes. I'm the sole beneficiary, as it were. It was bequeathed to me by a colleague of mine."
"Mmm hmm." The elf replied, checking a screen in front of him. "I see it right here. Severus Snape. Since it's your first time I'll have Seth show you down. And you might want to invest in a bit of proper identification -- especially if you're going to be doing a lot of traveling or business overseas."
"Thank you," Severus said, taking back Igor's key, "I'll definitely keep that in mind."
"No problem, sir. Thank you for banking with Drachewölbung."
End.
A/N2: Just some little facts. If I offended anyone with my (amittedly abysmal) German, I'm sorry. I got the translations off of BabelFish. The names and quotes are as follows:
Perdu Festung: Perdu (Invisible) Fortress.
Wer ist dort? Zeigen sie sich!: Who is there? Show yourself! (This one I'm not so sure about, but it's all BabelFish would give me sooo…)
Schattendurchlauf: Shadow Pass.
Drachewölbung: Dragon Vault, hence the reason for the front of the building being shaped like a dragon. (I picked the Horntail because Hungary seemed the closest geographically to Germany.)
As always, review!