S.O. 3 Chapter
Early Monday morning Severus Snape put on a pair of dark trousers and white shirt. He already knew that he would be wearing a lab coat provided by his new employer. He tied back his hair and took a final swig of the tea in his cup.
It did not take him long to familiarize himself with the vials and bottles on the shelves of the chemist's shop, although he stared nervously at the modern machine that would be calculating the prices of the transactions and spitting out paper receipts.
"Don't worry about that now, Severus. I'm sure if you just observe what I am doing, it will quickly come to you. Also, I think that it would be easier if you called me Martin, since we will be working as a finely honed team by the end of the week," the weather worn face looked up to him with a grin..
"Alright," Severus took in a deep breath as he heard the jingle of the bells on the front door announcing their first customer.
The day did indeed go well and surprisingly quickly, as the patrons kept up a slow but steady stream throughout the hours. Severus mixed and poured, measured and bottled and capped, and familiarized himself with the workings of the cash machine. Within hours he too felt confident enough to ring up some of the sales, and in fact found it quite pleasurable.
Who says that old Wizards can't learn new tricks? He smiled inwardly.
As the clock struck the final hour, the smaller man flipped the lock on the door and turned the 'open' sign to the 'closed' side.
"Well done, Severus. I'm pleased as I can be. Will you join me in my back office for a quick whiskey? I'm afraid that it has become a daily tradition in my shop."
"Of course," Severus spoke as he removed the lab coat and marveled in his mind at how the day had flown. "Lara told me that I would enjoy working with you and she was right. It has truly been a pleasure." He felt that he needed to at least extend a cordial comment to match that of his new employer. Good manners seemed to be all important to Muggles.
"Lara? Oh, well of course you would have met. You are neighbors, I believe," the older man nodded as he poured a healthy drop into each glass.
"Yes, she was kind enough to come and introduce herself," Snape accepted the drink.
"Oh, dear me, she is more than kind. She has the heart of a lion. I suppose she developed that to make up for… "He stopped short.
"Make up for what?" Snape asked, honestly curious.
"Well, you know, the other things in life that she was shorted on."
"Such as?" He felt a trickle of temper rising but kept his voice smooth.
"Poor thing. She has always been quite unattractive, even from birth, and she never blossomed. She had to withstand some terrible teasing as a child. I'm quite certain that she took up the occupation of teaching blind children because they could only see her inner beauty."
Snape was rocked to the core. Was he truly blind himself? What was he missing about this woman that made her appear so lovely and breathtakingly beautiful to his eyes?
"Thank you for the drink, Martin. I'll see you in the morning, then?" he set down the glass and started for the door.
"Bright and early," his new employer winked with joviality.
"NOBBY!" he shouted and barely had to wait three seconds before the Elf popped into his vision with a loud crack.
"Sir! I was hoping that Sir would summon me soon. Is Sir in need of supplies?" the raspy nasal voice of the Elf filled the room.
"No. Just some information, and I expect the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth," he eyed the Elf with a venomous glare.
"Oh yes, Sir!" Nobby bowed to him, "Of course. Nobby is capable of trickery, but Nobby was not raised to tell lies."
"Did you bewitch that woman who lives next door to appear to me as a beauty?" Snape stood, finger pointed at the Elf.
"Does Sir mean the lovely Mistress who runs on the beach? Why should Nobby do any such thing, Sir? She is most beautiful without any magic," he stared with a curious expression at his former Master.
"I want a yes or no answer, Nobby, and I want it to be completely truthful," his voice echoed through the small cottage.
"No, Sir! No, no, no. Nobby has not bewitched the beautiful Mistress, of that Sir can be certain," he shook his head fiercely.
Snape accepted the word of the Elf, but later that evening as he struggled with sleep, he vowed to himself to resolve this puzzle that vexed him, and he would do it as quickly as possible.
Severus barely managed to unlock the door of the shop when he was greeted by three ladies who slipped in past him and into one of the aisles of the store, talking in whispers and giggles. As he proceeded to his station at the back of the shop, one of the women approached him and held out her hand.
"I'm Loretta Venson and I'm a regular customer," she held his hand in her own, not releasing it for what seemed minutes to Snape.
"Yes, Mrs. Venson, is there something I can help you find?" he finally managed to wrangle out of her grip.
"MISS Venson. Loretta. I'm wondering if perhaps you could help me to locate the throat lozenges," she asked, gazing into his eyes.
"Certainly. They are in aisle three," he pointed.
There were giggles from the other two women whose faces he could not see behind the aisle that contained cold and flu ingredients.
He picked up his pace, wondering whether these were some of the curious local ladies that Lara had warned him about. It wasn't long before he became aware of more women who had entered the store. Some of them stared at him boldly, trying to catch his eye. Others poked their noses around corners of shelving and popped back when he looked in their direction. A few came up to him seeking answers to long and complicated questions, but when one lady approached wanting to know the best douche product that would ensure complete cleanliness and April freshness, he turned his back and strode into Martin's office.
"What is this?" he questioned him. "Where are yesterday's customers, the ones who came to be supplied with medications for legitimate ailments?"
"You must have cured them," he chortled, seeing Snape's frustration. "Not to worry, I'm certain we will have more people in genuine need of medicinal aid," he grinned. "I'm afraid that the word has gotten around about the handsome new assistant at the local drug store. Would you like me to work the floor today while you fill the prescriptions? I don't mind."
"If you would," he answered, his face clearly showing his discomfort.
Even so, a few women broke past the elderly druggist and queued up to Snape's counter calling for his attention.
"Could I be of service?" he all but growled at one.
"Might you tell me where the beauty creams are located?" she purred, blinking her heavily mascara laden eyes.
They wouldn't help. The only thing that would fix that face would be Polyjuice Potion mixed with a hair from your dog, he wanted to say, but held his tongue.
Unlike his first day on the job, this one dragged on until time seemed to stand still. As Snape observed the female customers, he couldn't help but notice that they were all extremely unattractive, quite hideous to be precise.
And then the door bells jingled and he saw her walk in through the aisle that allowed him a glimpse of the entrance. Her hair was pulled back into a pretty French braid and her porcelain skin had a touch of pink on the high cheeks from the chilly wind that shook the trees outside the window.
He could see her approach Martin and noticed as she turned to face him when the proprietor pointed in his direction. She nodded at some apparent clever remark from the older man and her lips curled in a radiant smile. Beautiful, he thought.
"That poor woman," Snape heard the remark from the thickly painted hag still standing at his counter. He murmured the incantation under his breath and suddenly she let out a scream as a large and fat spider crawled out of her heavily sprayed hair and tiptoed across her face.
Oh, that would cause a bit of havoc for him and a warning letter from the Ministry, he reckoned, but it was the most enjoyable act that Severus had performed in many long hours..
Lara approached his counter with a look of concern at the shaken woman. "Lavinia, are you alright? Can I assist you in some way?"
"A revolting insect," the woman shuddered as she and her friends hurried toward the exit.
"Well, she has me pegged," Severus met Lara's eyes and shrugged.
"I don't think the comment was in reference to you," she stared back in amusement. "But why do I get a feeling that somehow you were involved?"
"Really? How un-neighborly of you," he glanced at her with a subtle twinkle in the black eyes. "But just to show that there are no hard feelings, I have the prescriptions ready that I was warned you would be coming for today."
"Oh, good," she reached for the bags that he handed her. "Well, see you later then," she turned to walk away.
"About seven o'clock?" he spoke softly.
"What?"
"Could I drop in for a neighborly visit at about seven o'clock? We never finished that bottle of wine and I might pick up another on my way home."
"Oh, uh, sure," she stated with a tiny bit of hesitation.
"I won't be disrupting any plans?" he cocked his head toward her, his gaze fixed on her eyes.
"No. No plans. You're most welcome," she tucked the bags under her arms and left the shop.
As the clock struck the closing hour, he joined his employer for a whiskey in the back office, but his mind was on one thing only.
"Martin. I have a question about Lara. Forgive me because I'm a stranger here, but since we are neighbors, could you tell me a bit a about her?
Martin removed his glasses and looked at Snape, a sadness touching his eyes.
"It's not a happy story, my boy, especially since I adore the girl so." He sighed several times as he uncorked the bottle and poured the golden liquid into the short, somewhat grimy glasses that he had removed from the sink. "Lara's father was a local boy. He left us for a while to go on a job with the military. When he returned he brought back his bride. She was a bit odd, but quite friendly and outgoing. Unfortunately, she was different in looks and in her habits from the local folk – a bit artsy and unusual. She put up little clay gnomes in her garden and they were so realistic that some of the townsfolk swore that they came to life after dark.
Despite her efforts, she was never accepted here by the town ladies," he continued, "a sure death knoll in this village Somehow there started a vicious rumor that she was a witch, not that those sorts of things really exist."
Snape kept his opinion to himself but he ground his teeth within his cheeks.
"Oh, the story only gets sadder," Martin poured out another shot of whiskey for himself, moving the bottle to Snape who quickly declined.
"So," he continued, despite Snape's refusal of the drink, "they had a baby. They were so in love, but the little girl very clearly took after the mother. She had the same eerie eyes, the pointed chin and long nose. Very disturbing face."
Snape scratched his forehead. "Martin, are we talking about the same woman? I actually think that she is quite lovely."
"Oh, you are a kind person, dismissing her obvious, err… "
"I am not particularly kind. I just can't see in her face what everyone else in this town seems to regard as ugliness," Snape snorted.
"It is not so much that her features are ugly, Severus, but surely you must have noticed how they are somehow… wrong. Out of proportion. Nothing seems to match up. It is almost as though the genes of both of her parents were fighting against each other as she was formed." Martin downed the glass and gave a deep sigh. "And such a shame because she is certainly the nicest person in this village.
"Tell me then, the other ladies who were in this shop today, do you see them as attractive?" Severus squinted at Martin.
"I would say so, yes," Martin said. "In our village we pride ourselves on our lovely women. Loretta Venson was the Snow Queen here in town three years running. But of course, she knows it, and it has made her quite conceited."
"What? The woman who shook my hand? Martin, she resembles a fat, floundering fish and I don't mean that as a compliment to the fish," he shuddered.
Martin held his hands up and laughter rang from his throat. "Oh, well, you wouldn't want to spread that around town. She can be quite vindictive, I hear." He wiped the small tears springing forth from his eyes with a tissue and for a moment Severus was reminded of Albus Dumbledore.
"So you said that the story was sad," Snape urged him to finish.
"Oh yes. Both parents died before Lara was even school age. They were involved in a motorbike accident. Very sad, indeed. Lara was raised in the orphanage, and from what I suspect, she didn't have an easy time of it there."
"Indeed," Snape remembered his own lonely childhood. "Tomorrow, then."
"Bright and early," Martin raised his hand in farewell.
Severus stood in the shower and washed away the grime of the workday, but nothing could wash away the thoughts of the unusual events of the past several days. Was Lara's mother a true Witch? Garden Gnomes that came to life would certainly indicate that possibility. He knew that Lara did not possess magic. A Wizard could readily recognize a Witch, and Snape's senses were above average.
However, it was not as easy to detect a Squib. Certainly if the mother was magical and the daughter did not receive the gene, then she could be a Squib. That would certainly explain his altered perception of her appearance.
Out of proportion. Nothing seems to match up. Almost as though the genes of both of her parents were fighting against each other as she was formed. Martin's words echoed in his ears.
The melding of genes between Muggle and Wizard sometimes created some bizarre combinations, both good and bad. To the Muggle world, Lara's unusual eyes and less than uniform features obviously signaled that something about her was different. To Muggles, different was bad. But to a Wizard, she would appear perfectly normal, and in Lara's case, a seldom seen beauty. But how could he possibly convince her of this without giving away his identity?
She opened the door to his knock, accepting the wine with a smile and a nod for him to enter.
She took his breath away, and he was barely able to move his feet. He was now more convinced than ever that his theory was correct. What was grossly distorted to Muggle eyes came into clear focus when viewed by Magical persons.
"So, what is the reason for this visit?" she motioned for him to sit. "I take it that it isn't just a chance to be neighborly. Are you in search of information about some of the ladies who have suddenly become valued customers?" Her face wore a grin.
"Not in the slightest," he snorted. "I wish that they would all stay away. I'm trying to learn a number of new prescription combinations, not to mention all the articles crammed on the shelves of the shop, and they are simply irritating distractions. By the way, what is a thing called nail polish remover? Does it remove nails or does it remove polish? And why would anyone want to polish a nail? I don't see how that would make it any easier to hammer it into a board," he stretched out his hands in true wonderment.
"Oh dear," she giggled, "You really are from a different region, aren't you?"
She presented her hand to him. "The reference is to the nails on the fingertips. The light pink color that you see is not natural, but rather a type of paint that is referred to as nail polish. In order to remove the color, one must use a liquid called Nail Polish Remover. Don't the women in your home town wear nail polish?"
"Oh, I see," he took her hand and studied it carefully. It was small and fragile and the skin was as lovely as that on her face and neck. And, he assumed, the rest of her body. He flushed as the visual entered his mind's eye. "Yes, they do, but where I come from, a different method is employed. But this is certainly lovely."
She withdrew her hand from his and stood up quickly, her face reddening. "I'll pour the wine. I have some cheese and crackers that would go well with it."
"Alright," he answered and looked about the room as she busied herself in the kitchen.
She was artistic, her paintings lining the walls of the small living room. He noticed her simple signature in the corners of the artwork: Lara. They were very well done and exceedingly pleasant to his eye. He wondered whether Muggles saw them the same way, or was it another thing that was lost to their vision.
"These are beautiful," he commented as she came in carrying a tray of wine and glasses and assorted appetizers. "Do you sell them?"
"Oh, no. I'm afraid there is no market for my art. I like it, so I basically make it for myself, but I've never received many favorable comments. 'Too modern' or 'Wow, that is really different' are about the kindest remarks I've gotten," she shrugged.
"You must be showing them to very uncultured people," he raised his nose. "In my town they would sell for a rather good price, I suspect."
"I'm becoming a bit curious about this town of yours," she tilted her head. "Where exactly is it located?"
"Just outside London," he reached for his glass and lifted it to hers. "To us. Neighbors."
"Neighbors," she repeated.
"Lara, I think somehow we started off on the wrong foot the other day. It was not my intention in any way to insult you, and I'm sorry that you felt that way," he stated after sipping the ruby liquid.
"No apology necessary. I just don't take false compliments well, that's all," she avoided his face.
"And I have never given one," he touched her knee so that she was forced to raise her eyes to his. "Further more, I promise you that I never will."
"You said that my beauty was startling," she bit her lip. "I would call that a false compliment. But I'm willing to forget it and start over."
"Lara," he set the glass down in front of him and took her hand. "I finally understand that this will be difficult for you to believe, but in the town that I come from, you would be considered a startling beauty. Please, don't argue until I finish," he saw her mouth about to form words of disagreement. "I don't exactly know how or why, but I have a certain idea. Things in our two worlds are quite different, looked upon differently. Just like the paintings on your walls would be very desirable in my town, so, in fact, would you."
She pulled her hand away from his. "Mr. Snape, I've been to London and I do realize that things there are quite a bit more cosmopolitan," she emphasized the word, "than in our little village. But people are people everywhere, and I don't remember turning any heads on the streets of your town."
"London is not my town, nor does it remotely resemble it, but I give you my word that I am not filling your head with false flattery." He stared long and hard into her eyes, the depths in the blackness of his finally convincing her to believe him.
"Alright then, Severus, what shall we drink to now?"
"To us. Friends."
"Friends," she repeated.