REWRITTEN
Chapter 2 Frustrations of a young Potions Master
Saturday August 12th 1985, 11:35 Knockturn Alley
A few streets away from Gringotts and the business dealings of the new Head of House Peverell, another wizard was attempting, in a growing state of frustration, to complete his own. Sleek black hair falling on the sallow features of his face, Severus Snape's expression was drawn up in one of extreme annoyance as he stormed out of Miriander's apothecary in Knockturn Alley.
Summer was usually one of Snape's preferred times of year, due to the reprieve it afforded from the near constant entourage of witless students, and the considerably liberated schedule that could be dedicated to personal research. Unfortunately, the last few weeks had brought that research to an aggravating halt.
Out of Stock. Out of stock! What was the point of having a supplier in rare potion ingredients if he was always out of stock? It was the third time this month that he had gone to Miriander's, and the third time he had turned back empty-handed. He was on his last nerve. The private supplier, despite (or perhaps because of) its location in the darkly reputed Knockturn Alley, was generally good at providing the scarcest of ingredients -or had been. Snape had been disappointed too often of late; perhaps it was time to look elsewhere.
Snape, like any proper Potions' Master, relied on his own talents to collect ingredients, resorting to apothecaries in only two situations. The first, that the required ingredients were common and/or cheap enough that they could easily be ordered in bulk, and were not worth the effort or the time of seeking out himself. The slightly more expensive of these, bought in large orders of primary goods only demanded preparation and storage; perfect detention fodder for punished students during the Hogwarts schoolyear. The second situation arose when the requisite ingredients were such that he had no practical way of finding them on his own or in sufficient quality; those for which expeditions usually turned out to be a completely wasted effort. Runespoor venom and Coatl fangs were among these, as well as his current source of grievance with Miriander's. Snake parts in Potion brewing often posed problems, the most common of them already being hard to come by in the average potioneer's store. Snape's research, the continuation of the work started during his Mastery, unfortunately demanded an ever increasing variety and amount of these parts.
Snape mentally sneered at the prospect of more research time sacrificed to finding an adequate replacement for the Knockturn Alley shop.
He huffed impatiently as his steps turned the corner leading back to Diagon, mind still centred on his compromised summer plans. His irritation was further exacerbated, moreover, by the unwelcome knowledge that in less than three weeks, the share of his schedule spared for his personal projects would dwindle again, as he went back to teaching the stupid dunderheads that supposedly constituted the future of Magical Britain. Merlin have mercy.
His free time would be further decreased this year by his taking on the position of Head of Slytherin in the place of newly-retired Professor Everworth. The former Arithmancy professor had been exceedingly old, and most agreed he had only gotten the job four years ago due to seniority and the fact that Snape, as the newest member of staff at the time, had not had enough teaching experience to handle the responsibility. Many had been of the opinion afterwards, Snape included, that Everworth had perhaps had too much. The arithmancer himself had received the position from Snape's own Head of House at Hogwarts, Horace Slughorn, who he had replaced as the school's Potions professor. Snape supposed that Slughorn had been efficient enough in his way, but decidedly much too involved in public relations and celebrity gossip than Snape could possibly care for. Whatever his own expectations for the job, he doubted he'd be anything like his two predecessors had been, much as his Potions lessons were nothing like Slughorn's either.
His plans for Slytherin aside, he still had no solution to his current problem. Determined not have his entire morning gone to waste, Snape turned toward Diagon Alley's general Apothecary, Slug and Jigger's, his seemingly futile quest abandoned for the time being. There he could at least finish his order for the student cupboard and the more common elements of his private stores, hopefully saving some time later. Truth be told, his preparations for the new school year were usually completed by the first week of August, the hurdles met in his research once again responsible for the delay.
Small mercy, he noted upon arriving, that his horrid morning had at least been spared the meeting of any Hogwarts' students getting their own supplies, though by his calculations they should only receive their lists in a day or two. Consequently at leisure to roam the shop unperturbed by squabbling teens for anything that might be of use, he quickly fashioned a list of all that was required for the storekeeper, before examining the rest of the merchandise carefully.
Taking his time in his exploration, having just selected two steel cauldrons and a solid gold one that might well prove invaluable one day, he was about to start perusing the ceramic knives, when something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. It did not immediately dawn on Snape what had caught his eye in the figure that had just entered, but Snape was a canny enough observer to know that if something had captured his notice, there was probably a reason behind it. Taking care to bring as little attention to himself as possible, Snape focused on his target, observing him carefully from head to toe.
It was a young man, unknown to Snape, but of approximately the same age, and whose entire posture, as well as attire, testified to both considerable status and power.
Ever the spy, Snape carefully followed his progression through the room, watchfully tracking his movements in the corner of his eye while still seeming to focus on the tools before him.
The angle at which he stood, a little off to the man's left, offered him a view first and foremost of silky black hair, slightly longer than his own, neatly tied back in a clasp and coming to rest lightly on the nape of the man's neck. His face was fair, shadowed by at least two faint scars from what Snape could make out, the most prominent cutting diagonally from his forehead to the corner of his left eyebrow and finishing mere millimeters from the corner of his left eye. The other, smaller, just discernible in the drop of his chin, ran parallel to his jaw line. Too faint to be considered disfiguring, yet clear enough to call attention to them, they did not diminish his handsomeness, but rather gave the entire figure an air of experience and survival. By far the most defining feature of this face however, even more so than the fair skin, pale scars or even soft lips, was unquestionably the deep soulful eye Snape could make out, composedly studying the shelves of ingredients hung about the walls. Though only able to see one clearly, Snape was struck by its the deep swirl of colours, ranging from luxurious emerald green to rich sparkling silver. They seemed slightly famililiar somehow.
The real surprise-and what Snape immediately knew was what had captured his eye, came when he focused on the man's apparel.
He was dressed in what was unmistakably the formal attire of a Master, not something particularly exceptional in and of itself -though it spoke of well his dedication and skill- until you considered the Runes' Scroll insignia embroidered on his left sleeve. Having only recently completed his own Mastery, Snape knew better than most that the insignia of one's First Mastery- that of someone's primary chosen field- was always embroidered on the sleeve and tattooed on the wrist of one's right arm. It was strictly speaking possible, but certainly practically unheard of, for someone so young (he couldn't be that far off from Severus' own age surely?) to already be attaining a second Mastery. The embroidered sash that tied the scroll was white of course, which at least confirmed his object of interest was only an Apprentice in Runes, but that only begged the question of what his completed Mastery was. The most common associations with Runes would dictate History or perhaps Charms if he were a warder…
As if to answer his quandary, the man turned slightly, reaching out to examine a standard level 2 cutting stone, the belt of his robes now visible beneath his outer garment. Entwined gold and white, as expected, but also… Surely not. Red and Black. His gaze went frantically from the belt to the young face, to the cloak's now unhidden right sleeve in complete disbelief. As inconceivable as it seemed, there it was, unmistakable, next to an inlay of silver, blue, and bronze threads: the Crossed Dagger and Wand stitching of Defensive Magical Arts, with the black sash of an accomplished Master. All thought of the Runes' Apprenticeship was lost in pure shock.
Now all the more determined to discover all he could on this mysterious character, Snape headed confidently to the rack of wooden stirrers stood near him, and found himself now with a full view of the stranger's back. The Coat of Arms which covered its expanse only posed another riddle, for though it harkened to others of great Wizarding Houses Snape was familiar with (given the importance of pedigree in Slytherin), he was sure he had never seen it before. The hands too, previously covered by the long sleeves of the rich cloak, were now conveniently folded behind his back, giving enough view of his right one to make out the Lordship ring on his fourth finger.
Seeing his quarry head for the door to leave, Snape quickly hurried to the counter to pay for his order, in the hope of catching the man before he disappeared.
Pausing slightly as he crossed the threshold, he turned his head back to address the old manager. "The man that just left, the one that made no purchases, did you know him?"
The shopkeeper's answering apologetic expression predicted the verbal reply. "No Master Snape. Didn't give 'is name when 'e was in, and this was definitely the first I'd seen of 'Im. We don't get much of the upper folk 'ere to tell you the truth, 'xcept Lord Malfoy once in a while, but even then, 's an elf more often than not."
Snape nodded, disappointed. "All right then. But keep an eye out, should he return."
Snape quitted the apothecary to the respectful nod of acceptance that was given him, looking left and right for the tell-tale sign of the mastery robes. He had not expected the mysterious Lord to get very far, especially as the streets were now crowded, but wherever he turned, there was nothing to be seen. Supposing and rather hoping his target might have made for one of the numerous shops in the Alley, he hurried by Flourish and Blotts, Madam Malkins, and Eeylops Owl Emporium before giving up the search as vain. It was only when he entered the Leaky Cauldron as a last resort, cursing his debilitating delay, that his efforts met with any results, and even then, not those hoped for.
"Severus. What a pleasant surprise."
The familiar drawling voice came from behind him as he stepped up to ask Tom for any information he might have. Enquiry interrupted, Snape turned around to be met with none other than Lucius Malfoy. The Head of House Malfoy stood before him, platinum blond hair descending smoothly down his back, ornate serpent topped cane (concealing his sheathed wand) in his right hand, and the same self-satisfied air of wealth and contempt for all lesser beings he always had written proudly across his features. Snape bit back his groan and let show his signature smirk before returning the greeting.
"Lucius", he bowed his head slightly in what the arrogant Lord would interpret as a show of respect. Pandering to Malfoy with these slight gestures cost little, and enabled staying in his good books. Malfoy's smile as he signaled to Tom for a private booth proved him right.
"What brings you to the Alley, my friend? Not a rendez-vous with Firewhisky at this hour, surely?"
Snape shook his head, quickly weighing how much he should share with the former Death Eater, but deemed that rumours of a new player in the game- an unknown Lord with a double Mastery( or very near one)- were bound to circulate soon enough, and it might be preferable to be the source of anything Lucius were to hear. The conceited aristocrat might even prove a valuable source of information himself.
"I visited Knockturn in search of some rather delicate ingredients I need, but my fool supplier is still out of stock." He scowled at the memory of his failed morning excursion to Miriander's.
Lucius scrutinized him carefully. "You could have come to me. Thankfully, the Malfoy name does not yet count for nothing, and I…"
Snape, in no mood to have pureblood superiority thrust in his face, interrupted him. "I appreciate it Lucius, but it would serve for naught. These are not the kind of ingredients a name-even as reputed as the Malfoy one- can buy." Malfoy nodded curtly, but Snape could tell he had been stung by the lack of faith in what his name could do.
"It is a case of having the right suppliers," he explained, " and you will agree, I hope, that I remain the best informed of your acquaintances in Potion-related matters." The slight lift of his eyebrow in challenge was all Snape needed to do for the customary smirk to reappear, Malfoy's ruffled feathers now all back in place. He's worse than those damn peacocks he has roaming about in Wiltshire.
"Too true, Severus. No other can boast being a Potions Master so young, nor teaching at one of the finest institutions the Wizarding World has to offer."
Snape scowled. "That's all very well in theory, Lucius. But I'll have you consider," he said in a slightly bitter tone, "that for a few adequate students, Hogwarts provides an endless number of dunderheads to whom teaching Potions, however fine the institution, is nothing short of unbearable."
Lucius' smirk widened. "I have every confidence, Severus, that if anyone can make something of them, you will. The Slytherins at the very least. I heard about your promotion. Draco will be thrilled to have a proper Head of House when he comes to Hogwarts."
Snape nodded. "Yes, I hope to bring Slytherin back to its once celebrated glory. We won the House Cup for the first time in years last term, but even then it was barely a scrape past Ravenclaw."
"I have no fears you'll do anything but uphold the House's honour." His expression dimmed. "Even with that mudblood-lover in charge of the school. I hope he isn't sending you after rare ingredients?"
"Merlin no. They are for personal research. Though I did pass by Diagon for the school's orders afterwards. It's what lead me here."
"Indeed?" Malfoy's look was enquiring.
"I was following someone, have been since I exited the apothecary on his tail about an hour ago, but he seems to have vanished. I came here to see if he'd passed through, but in all likeliness, he just apparated away."
Lucius appeared intrigued. "Who was it? Someone I'd know?"
"I don't believe so. I'd certainly never seen him, but he was obviously of some lineage, so you might have information I wouldn't be privy to." He turned in his seat to face Malfoy directly. "He carried a House ring, and an elaborate Coat of Arms adorning his outer cloak, but I failed to recognize it."
Lucius' interest redoubled. "A Lord? Truly? What was the Sigil, maybe I'd recognize it."
Snape shook his head in frustration. "A Griffon, taking flight. Holding a spear and a branch of some sort in its talons."
Lucius frowned. "That harkens of one of the Ancient Houses. Did you see the colours?"
It was Snape's turn to frown. "Blue I think. With silver I believe, or perhaps bronze."
"Blue and bronze. Perhaps a House affiliated to Ravenclaw? Is that all you know?"
Snape shook his head again. "No. I do not yet know much, but there is something more. He caught my attention initially because of his Mastery robes." He gave Lucius a hard look. "The Golden Scroll and the Dagger-crossed Wand."
Lucius' eyebrows rose in astonishment. "A Defense Apprentice? How old was he?"
"That's just it. He could not have been older than I am. But it was the other way around Lucius, the Apprenticeship was for Runes, and Mastery for Defense. I checked twice."
Lucius stared. "A fully qualified defense Master? In his mid twenties? With a second apprenticeship started? That's unheard of!"
"Precisely."
Lucius pondered for a moment. " Even if he'd completed his Mastery only recently, and just started his second, we'd have heard something. How is this possible?"
"I do not know, but in any case, it was something to look into."
"Which is why you came here."
"Indeed."
Snape's last reply was lost in Malfoy's loud call for the barkeeper, Tom coming quickly when he saw who had addressed him.
"Lord Malfoy, Professor Snape. How may I be of service?"
"Professor Snape was looking for an acquaintance he'd heard might've passed by earlier, and we were wondering if you'd seen him."
Tom nodded in understanding. "Lots of folk pass through but if you give me a general description, I might be able to help. Some people you remember better than others."
"Then I have no doubt you'll remember him if he was here," put in Snape curtly. "He is rather memorable."
"Very well gentlemen, I'll see if I can come up with anyone."
"He is slim, slightly over average height, with muscular build-but not overly so-, and well dressed. Dark Hunter green Cloak. Black hair, and emerald eyes."
"Fair skin, and a rich look about him?" enquired Tom searchingly.
"Yes. He's a Lord."
Tom nodded. "Aye, he passed through here just over an hour ago. Apparated out again, but he reserved a room for the night. Seems to have business in Diagon Alley in the morning, or so I supposed, because he asked for an early wakeup call. Didn't catch his name though. But you're welcome to check the registry, if you want to make sure it's him. Should I tell him you were looking for him?"
"No, No, we'll catch him tomorrow, I'm sure. I'll be back myself. We'll just check the registry now, to be certain it's him."
"Very well sirs." Tom led them to the left of the counter, laying out the thick Volume for them before returning to serve a client.
"Fives names have checked in in the hour before last, and I recognize four of them." Snape summarized, studying the page before him.
"Yes. Me too. And of those, Westerson and Pykes can barely hold a wand let alone manage a double mastery; while the other two combined have less money than Weasley. I suppose that leaves this C.I.P. individual, but it doesn't tell us who he is."
"It gives us further detail. And more to the point, it tells us where he's staying. I'll stay to pick up my orders tomorrow morning, see if I can find out anything more."
Malfoy acquiesced. "I must see the Minister for other matters but I can ask whether or not he knows anything."
Snape snorted. "Fudge? How that fool came into office I'll never know. Dear Merlin, Bagnold was fair enough, but Fudge! That buffoon won't tell you anything worth a Knut."
Lucius smirked "With that scandal around Crouch's son, there was no chance of him staying a favourite, and they filled the position with the first fool who presented himself. Which suits me very well I should think. I hardly think Crouch, with how much we despise each other, would be as easy to play as Cornelius Fudge."
Snape nodded in agreement. "You should see how he crawls after Dumbledore like a wounded puppy. It's truly quite pathetic."
With that, Lucius let out a last laugh of farewell before flooing out to Malfoy Manor, leaving Snape to consider all that had happened, and all that he had to tell Dumbledore. Maybe the Headmaster could elucidate the puzzle that was C. I.P.?
