Chapter Two

Liaison

The alarm clock beeped loudly and glared its numbers into my skull as I fumbled to find how it turned off. I struggled into my clothes muttering about the early start, praying European coffee would get me through this term. I hadn't had to wake at such hours in many years, since college actually. I hadn't ever planned to return to school and certainly not at this dreadful hour. I left my trunks in the room, confirming at the concierge that I would return before eleven to check out after shopping. I hurried out into the streets deciding at the last moment to take a cab spending the last of my money to ensure I would arrive not only on time, but hopefully enough time to enjoy some coffee.

My mood was dropping by the moment, stuck in this strange city I had begun to wonder if this was all a hoax, fumbling along the empty streets just past dawn looking for a building that was NOT clearly labeled.

I walked across the street twice, checking the numbers until the corner building caught my eye. I pushed my way through its door into a low lit room. Empty carved benches lining the walls, it was clearly bigger on the inside then the outside. This had to be the place. The bells above the doorway chimed, I made my way up to the counter and an old woman in flour spotted robes peered around the entrance to what I assumed was the kitchen.

'Coffee if you please, mum' I called to her, that was how they said it on British TV right? She gave me a funny look and disappeared again.

I turned around to wait and saw beyond the door I came in, was more space that shouldn't have been there, with windows out into the street that were clearly impossible.

By one of the windows was a severe looking man reading what looked like a newspaper, he did not look up.

The woman had returned with a dirty looking mug with steaming coffee and I tossed what I hoped would be enough money onto the counter beside it and wandered off to a side bench to sit. I choked on the first sip, looking up to see if she was still around, and found her gone again along with the money. I looked back at the man reading and noticed sugar and creamer sitting on his table and decided then I didn't want to bother with the woman further and approached him gingerly.

'Sir, could I trouble you for some of your cream and sugar?'

I made no move to sit, nor he to look up, he merely waved me off with his free hand before turning the next page. I assumed acceptance and sat thinking only to sit long enough to mix them into my drink. I watched him over my cup as I deftly dropped into it the sugar and cream, noting the few lines on his face, his dull black hair sitting just at his shoulder had touches of grey. I stirred quietly as possible and then moved to get up and thanked him also quietly.

'Is that an American accent I detect?' His voice was gravelly, and would have almost been sexy if not for the sneer that seemed permanently engrained. I loved British accents, the ones I could understand anyways and it froze me uncertainly in place.

'Canadian Sir?'

'Sit, Miss Bishu'

I dropped back into the chair gripping the mug tightly, willing my face to relax and stared at him. I sat quietly while he ignored me, and tended to my coffee. Finally after my coffee had gone cold and only dredges remained, he folded the paper and set it delicately to the side and finally looked directly at me.

His eyes were deep brown, almost black, piercing and unforgiving, his face harsh and lined, though not from smiling, never smiling. I decided then he would be beautiful if only he would smile.

I checked my watch and looked expectantly back at him, it was almost time for my appointment and he was the only one here. He continued to stare, as if to see how long it would take me to speak. I could sense he was toying with me, and I had too much to do today to have time for this.

'Sir, you are clearly not the person described I was sent to meet, however, you know my name?'

His face twitched with a ghost of a smile, more sneer then any indication of pleasure and he folded his hands before him, tucking his fingertips into his sleeves.

Many years in the muggle world taught me that a person who hides any physical manifestation of themselves is insecure, and so I also smiled slightly back at him.

'You are correct Miss Bishu, I am not the person who you were originally to meet. Your letter would have mentioned Professor Hagrid' you could hear the derision as he spit out the name.

' Instead I have been deprived of my leisurely Sunday morning planning my classes for tomorrow to endure a shopping trip with you, due to a certain individuals' incompetence at keeping a handle on the Thestrals'.

He paused, as though assessing me once again.

'Though I do appreciate not having my coffee interrupted by idle chitchat, and that you showed up on time'.

'Perhaps this will not be as tedious as I had thought'.

I could not help but smirk, I myself had hated getting up at this hour, and the idea of having to take some tourist shopping instead of enjoying my morning coffee would have set me ready to chew bricks. I gathered my purse over my arm and he in turn stood straightening his dark robes.

' lead the way Sir?'

He grimaced passing me and headed for the back of the cafe.

'Proffessor Snape' He corrected me passing through the doorway into what I had assumed was the kitchen, into a long hallway. The end of the hallway ended with a door onto a veranda, and by extension- a great bricked yard. He barely paused at the end of the yard, touching several bricks and muttering as they fell away revealing an alley.

There were a dozen more people walking about now, the sun fully up though hiding behind grey clouds. Each person in the street was dressed in robes, most attending carts or putting out signs for their businesses.

I suddenly felt overwhelmed as I read the signs, Ollivander and Sons Wand Shop, Mrs Tiggles ingredients, Weaslys Wonders. It was real and I was stepping into a world I knew nothing about.

His voice startled me, I hadn't realized I had stopped walking

'Miss Bishu? shall we get on with this? I'm sure you'll likely want to start with dress robes or some such nonsense'. He seemed to enjoy my discomfort and I could only imagine younger students being petrified at his disparaging manner. It irked me that he would be so harsh to a guest of his school, a foreigner who had done nothing purposeful to rob him of his morning. So I beamed a bright smile up at him, being perversely cheerful.

' Couldn't care less what I wear Sir, but if you think it's so important, lets?'

His face darkened and he turned on heel, assumingly to lead me to a robe shop.

He had retrieved a book from somewhere inside his robes and began reading standing near the front of the store just within the threshold. I went straight for the shopkeeper and explained that I had no idea on how sizing went, but wanted as little fuss as possible. It did not take long to pick out a couple of plain black robes, and school outfits, plus one more item, I winked at the shopkeeper and kept hidden beneath the rest of the clothing items.

Professor Snape put his book away long enough to pay for the items (part of the agreement as an exchange student) and usher me to the next shop. After several shops, and one vanity item I was certain I would never regret- a bag of extended storage, of the softest black leather, the professor announced there was only one final purchase to make- a wand.