THE COST
The first time he had visited Diagon Alley he had been three years old. At the time he still hadn't understood how he and his mother were different from his father or why the people in Diagon Alley didn't dress like the people in his neighborhood. What he did know was only certain people could go there, and he was one of those people.
The visit hadn't been much to remember. His mother had gone to have her wand repaired. Earlier in the week his parents had been fighting about how long a potato should be left in the oven. After his mother had stupefied his father, his father torn apart the house looking for her wand, and upon finding it, snapped it in two.
Severus would never know the reason he hadn't recived a birthday present that year was because his mother ended up having to buy a new wand.
What he remembered most from the visit were the toy broomsticks he saw hovering in a store window. He had seen a child around his age with jet-black hair grinning wildly, drowning in happiness as he stared at the broomstick clutched in his hands. The boy's parents had obviously just bought it for him. Severus had kept his wide hungry eyes on them until they'd entered Florean Fortescue's.
Severus would never know that the boy he'd seen that day had been James Potter.
The rest of his time in Diagon Alley that day was spent begging his mother for a broomstick. She hardly listened to him. Her problems were greater then trying to find ways to please her three-year-old son.
Today Diagon Alley did not remind him of his childhood visit. There was an eerie quality in the way the sun reflected in the store windows. People around him skittered in and out of shops, their eyes uncertain.
Severus walked calmly. He needn't worry about the things that these people fretted over. He was one of the Dark Lord's. He was safe.
The shop where he usually bought his most of his potions ingredients was empty except for the heavyset proprietress. She sat on a stool behind the counter lazily reading a trashy romance novel. The red lettering on the cover sparkled, underneath a barely clad witch and wizard sat in a castle snogging. Severus frowned.Hopefully she wasn't a pureblood, he couldn't help but think.
When Severus shopped he spent no time browsing. He always knew exactly what he wanted and exactly where it was. Today was like any other.
As he selected the bezoars he thought looked the freshest, the shop's door opened. He didn't see the person who entered, and he could careless who it was.
About to leave, Severus went to the counter to pay. The shopkeeper looked up from her book resentfully. It was clear she didn't appreciate having to leave her reading to ring up a customer. Her slothful attitude did not impress Severus, and he thought he would give her a little motivation.
As he reached into the pocket of his robe for his money satchel he made sure to let his sleeve fall. When he handed her the money, he held it with his palm up, the underside of his arm exposed.
When the Dark Mark met her eyes her book dropped to the ground, and the lovebirds on the cover rolled into one of the castle walls. She immediately lowered her head and her hands trembled as they handed his money back to him saying he needn't pay, today it was on her.
All he said was 'fine' and looked unmoved, though inside he was ecstatic. This was the sort of thing he could get used to.
Turning to leave he glanced around the store, somewhat curious to find out who had entered after him. Scanning the aisles he recognized a familiar face standing at a shelf parallel to the register. The face looked back at him, almost challenging. Severus' eyes narrowed. The familiar man moved his hand slowly inside of his robes. Severus did not have time for this. He still had to visit Knockturn Alley for certain rare items.
With one last look of disgust he swiftly exited, his black robes swirling behind.
James Potter would have to wait.