Somehow, dinners at Amity's had becoming an ongoing part of Severus's life ever since the first time. Always on the weekends, when he wasn't expected at dinner in the Great Hall anyway. In that way, his isolated personality actually worked in his favor and freed up his time. He Apparated right outside Raincrow's door and knocked. Usually he was greeted almost immediately with a call to come in, but this time there was nothing. A second knock got the same result. Frowning, he leaned closer to the door and listened. There was no music playing inside, which was a certain sign that Amity wasn't home.

She knew he was coming, and Severus was confident that she wasn't rude enough to try and worm her way out of their dinner by simply not showing up. So either something had happened or…

Severus turned and took one step in the direction of the stairs down into the store before remembering that he was wearing robes and a frock coat. Not exactly Muggle street attire. Wrinkling his nose, he raised his wand and his robes turned into a black overcoat, white shirt unchanged, frock becoming a sharp black vest. Satisfied he looked Muggle while still being intimidating, he descended the stairs and emerged out into the store.

Severus looked around and it was easy to find Amity. The lights in the back were off and the floor was the only place still illuminated. A bored teenager stood there with a waspish old lady with blue hair lingering at her side. Amity stood with them, looking stressed, her dark hair a messy bun atop her head.

Amity's voice was struggling for reasonability. "Ma'am, it really is okay to sew cotton with this kind of thread, it won't pucker-"

"Yes it will!" snapped the old lady. "Honestly, don't you know anything?"

Amity scowled. "Now sewing in particular isn't my area of expertise, that's more in knitting, but I do know-"

"I don't know how you can even do that, the state you're in," the old woman huffed. The girl with her, probably a granddaughter, had reddened ears and was steadfastly staring at the two spools of thread in her hands. Clearly, she was embarrassed.

Severus watched as Amity's sightless eyes blazed with rage and her voice shook with the effort of suppressing it as she replied with admirable poise, "Practically I know how these things work and I-"

"Well practically won't help my little angel learn to sew a proper dress, will it?" huffed the old woman.

"Grandmother, it's okay, the store's already supposed to have closed, we can just go somewhere else tomorrow," the granddaughter tried weakly, clearly desperate to escape the awkward situation.

"So?" the old woman demanded. "That doesn't matter! We're paying customers, she'll stay open as long as we need her to!"

Severus noted the old woman had no other items on her to buy. A glance at the prices on the thread made him completely willing to step forwards. He was not going to let this old harpy sit there and degrade Raincrow like that, customer or not, when Amity was potentially getting all of three quid out of it.

"As it happens, Miss Raincrow has plans for the evening," he interrupted, stepping out of the shadowy back of the store and into the light, striding over. The granddaughter looked around and seemed even more embarrassed to know someone else had witnessed the scene. Amity whipped around so fast that her foot tangled in her skirt and she staggered. He easily caught her shoulder and steadied her, leaving his hand there in a gesture of solidarity as he stared down at the octogenarian.

"Excuse me!" the woman spluttered. "I don't know who you think you are, butting into a conversation like this-"

"I think that I am Miss Raincrow's dinner partner for the evening, who is being kept waiting because you can't make your mind up about something simple and apparently feel the need to badger a blind woman. Neither is permissible to me. You will take you companion, and you will both leave."

The teen set down the thread and grabbed her grandmother's hand, tugging it hopefully. "Come on, grandmother, he's right, let's just go!"

"I have never been spoken to like this in my life!" the old woman shrieked, her face going a shade of pink that clashed with her blue hair. "You are in customer service, woman, and this is how you serve your customers?" She scowled when Amity remained quiet, staring over the woman's head. "Excuse me?" she demanded, and began to snap her fingers in Amity's face. "Ecuse me, you don't get to just ignore me!"

The teen gave a low, horrified moan and Severus's hand snapped out, catching the woman's wrist and flinging it from Amity's face. With the full force of his withering stare, drawing himself up to his not inconsiderable height, he stared down at the old bat and snarled, "Get out, or you will be removed.'

The old woman seemed to realize that staying would not be in her best interest, but she still huffed and stuck her nose in the air as she headed for the door. The teen looked over her shoulder and mouthed, "Sorry." Severus nodded. He didn't blame the girl. She, clearly, had manners. Age was not always a guarantee of class.

Amity proved that as the door slammed behind them and she proceeded to let fly a torrent of curse words and raise both middle fingers in the direction of the door. Severus scoffed and shook his head.

"She's gone, Raincrow, that does nothing.'

"Make me feel a hell of a lot better," Amity snarled, lowering her hands and storming back down the aisle, heading for the light switch. "I told Cheryl to lock the door behind her when she left but apparently she didn't, because I'm about to lock up and those two come storming in. They say they just need thread, won't take a second – hah! Bitch," she muttered, and her hand floundered on the wall for the light switch in the general area. Severus shook his head and drew his wand, flicking it. The lights all went out, the shades were drawn, and the front door locked.

In the dim light coming from the stairway, Severus guided himself over to her as she mounted the stars.

"Does that happen often?" he asked curiously as he followed her up. "Frankly I've wondered as to how you run a craft store when you can't actually do any of them."

"Theory is good enough to offer advice to most people," Amity grunted. "And I learned how to do a lot of this from my mother when I was young. I'd sit by her while she sewed or knit or crocheted or quilted… very crafty, my mother. "

Amity let him into her apartment and he shut the door behind her, changing his clothes back into what they were with a flicker of his wand. When he turned back around, Amity was leaning back against the wall with her knees slightly bent, eyes closed. For the first time since he'd met her, he was reminded that she was the same age as her. She'd always seemed so much younger, with more life pulsing inside of her than he had ever managed even in his own youth.

"Are you alright?" he asked her uncertainly, not entirely confident that he had the right to ask the question or that it would be welcome. Quite clearly she wasn't alright, but he didn't quite know how to phrase it any other way. He could hardly ask specifically what part of that old bat's ranting had pricked her.

"I'm tired, Severus," Amity said wearily, reaching up and rubbing her temples. She sighed. "I haven't been sleeping well lately."

That was actually quite a good answer, because Severus was deeply familiar with an inability to sleep. "You can't fall asleep or you can't sleep well?" he asked.

Amity's lips quirked up. "The first one. It's like I can't turn my mind off when I lay down. The diagnosis, Dr. Snape?"

He smirked, pleased that exhaustion at least hadn't stolen her tongue from her. "There's something on your mind. Something keeping you awake."

Amity snorted nad shook her head. "Well hell, I could have told you that."

"And what's keeping you awake."

"You." He froze in place, eyeing her with all the caution of a man approaching a hippogriff. Amity didn't seem to notice, her smile faltering and flagging once more as she clarified, "You and Lorena. I worry about the two of you, and Harry as well. The one's I only know by name and have never met. I worry that one of you will die or be injured and no one will know to tell me. You'll just… be gone."

She shook her head and pressed a hand to her cheek. "I'm bringing down the mood, aren't I? Sorry. I'll get started on dinner.'

She pushed herself off the wall and Severus followed her as she walked into the kitchen. Seemingly against his will, his hand reached out and caught her shoulder, redirecting her and guiding her gently but firmly into a seat by the table. Amity's expression was confused as she commented,

"It's gonna be real hard to use the oven from here."

Severus rolled his eyes. If he didn't know that Potter had been born with her ridiculous insistence upon doing everything he would wonder if she'd picked it up form this woman. "Sit and rest. I will make dinner," he said.

He found himself wanting to take care of her. No one had ever needed or wanted his tending in the way she did. Probably wise, because taking care of others was not something he routinely pulled from his quiver or tricks. But making a meal, sending a bully flying from the shop, these were things he could do to protect her, to say a silent thank you for worrying about him… if it wasn't all some sort of elaborate ploy.

Resisting the urge to fall down that rabbit hole of thought again, he returned his attention to Amity. Her mouth had fallen open and she'd directed her face so that she looked up at him. She seemed oddly moved as she murmured, "You're going to cook for me?"

"Yes, if you'll tell me what you've the ingredients to make," Severus replied, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Stop looking at me like that, woman. It's a meal, not a marriage proposal."

Amity smirked, but there was a softness, a fondness to it that was new. "Shame, why can't it be both? That knight in shining armor act you pulled would have been terribly romantic. Thank you for that, by the way."

"You're welcome," Severus replied, and her smirk began to grow. She opened her mouth and before she could say whatever nonsense she was about to come out with he added, "You're also ridiculous."

"Ooh, I'm winning you over, don't even try and deny it!" Amity insisted as he turned and began to open her refrigerator and pantry.

"Have you spoken to someone about these delusions?"

"Bite me," Amity replied swiftly. "I had planned for chili tonight. The soup pot's under the counter on the right, and the ingredients are on the second shelf in the fridge."

Severus nodded and began to dig around. In not time the smell of cooking meat began to fill the kitchen along with beans and spice. He felt rather like he was in his lab back at the school and yet not. There were similarities in the act of cooking to potions that his hands did automatically, and yet the feel of the experience was difference. Brewing gave him a feeling of control that he had very rarely had in his life. Cooking, particularly for another person, was much more intimate.

Severus glanced over and saw that Amity had turned her chair around unbeknownst to him, the back to him. She sat in it sidesaddle, her arms folded across the top, her cheek resting on her crossed wrists. Her eyes were lightly closed, hair spilling down over her shoulder in a sheet. The pose was somewhat childish, and yet there was an easy looseness to it that was somehow incredibly attractive, particularly as she took a deep breath in and smiled at him lazily.

"That smells heavenly," she breathed, and stood up from her chair. Severus turned firmly back to his work on the stove and let her dig around in the cabinets behind him. The clinking of glasses and the popping of a cork told him what she was up to, and yet he still found himself surprised when a long-fingered hand offered him a glass of red wine. He turned and saw Amity smiling at him expectantly, her own glass pressed to her lips. He took the glass and sipped before setting it aside and turning back to his stirring. Amity moved next to him, hopping up to sit on the counter next to him. One leg crossed over the other and she leaned forwards, resting her arms on her thighs, wine glass cupped in one hand. Her head tilted tiredly and she commented, "I can't even remember the last time someone cooked for me. Really cooked for me, you know, not like in a restaurant." She smiled softly. "Thank you Severus. Honestly, I really didn't want to cook tonight."

He cleared his throat. What was to him a protective measure seemed to mean something incredibly important to her, something he couldn't fully fathom. Taking a sip of his wine to distract him before busying himself with tipping the cooked hamburger meat into the pot with beans and spices and salsa waiting, he replied, "Yes, well, it concerns me enough letting you cook when you're alert, having you do it while tired was unacceptable."

Amity's face hardened in a flash and she demanded, "Because I'm blind?"

Severus arched an eyebrow. "No, because I'm worried you'll poison me."

"Ooh!" Amity's tone was annoyed but she was laughing as she tossed her head. One hand stretched out for him and he offered his arm to help guide her, whatever she was intending. Her hand caught his wrist and she squeezed gently. "You like my cooking and you know it, or you wouldn't come eat it as often as you do."

"Perhaps I simply desire a change of scenery," he countered. She smirked.

"Scenery doesn't really do much for me, honestly."

This time he really did roll his eyes, scoffing as he continued to stir, lifting out a little. One hand cupped under the spoon to prevent it from dripping as he offered it to her. "Open," he ordered, and Amity obediently opened her mouth. Severus slipped the spoon inside and she swallowed thoughtfully. As he lowered the spoon they both seemed to realize what they'd just done. He turned with rather more force than necessary towards the pot again and Amity lifted her glass to her lips.

For a moment all was silence and Severus wondered how it always happened, what sort of magic was in this place and this woman that the moment he stepped inside of here he felt freer than he did anywhere else. Was it that this place was protected by wards of his own design? No, so was Spinner's End, and he had never in his life felt secure there. Was it that Amity couldn't see him, and he no longer had to school his features into whatever was expected of him? He could do that or not, it made no difference to her.

Amity helps, Potter had said once, and he was starting to realize how true it was.

"it's not very spicy," Amity commented thoughtfully. Severus winced.

"Yes, I… can't handle spicy foods with the potions I must take." He didn't need to specify that the potions were for his internal injuries. "You can, of course, add some more flavor to your own if you like but I-"

"No, it's alright," Amity reassured him. Her hand moved again, fingers trailing along his shoulder and down his bicep lightly in what was probably supposed to be a soothing gesture. "I don't particularly like spicy things myself. It's perfect."

She smiled, and some part of him knew that it wasn't wards or being seen or any sort of easily-explainable thing like that. Something in Amity Raincrow's very being made him relax, and if that wasn't a thought to be brutally shoved into a dark corner of his mind he didn't know what was.