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Chapter 50

So That the Door Can Be Opened Again

Open access to Osiris' mind was a very different sensation. Smooth, like smoke. Not like any sort of force or penetration at all. Without a particular event or category in mind to find, the imagery was very effusive. Mostly he felt…whatever it was Osiris was feeling. It was something resembling calm.

That did eventually give way to a memory.

"Hesy, I need you to fill an order for me," Osiris' mother said. She had long, wavy dark hair, and large almond shaped hazel eyes like her son. "Mr. Jigger has an expensive one with several rare and fragile things that I trust to you. There is a tight deadline and rather exacting specifications."

For all that Osiris said she was formidable, she could not have been more than five and a half feet tall.

A younger Osiris looked over the top of the box he was levitating toward a magically rotating magazine rack. "But the publishers just dropped off the new editions of all the journals for the quarter."

"Work comes first, no buts," she replied sharply, handing him the parchment with the list. "Leave that there. Your brother can put them out. At least he can't break those. You can read all about daring new developments later and don't think I don't know your plan was to disappear with it outside and not return; all under the guise of learning."

They were in another room, colder, filled with dry ingredients.

Osiris was holding the list up, reading it aloud. "Anadenanthera peregrina uniform size, no larger than 5mm x 8mm…seriously?" He made a face, picked up a quart jar and read the label. "I wonder if mum realized there were hallucinogenic beans on this list and that I was going to have to pick them by hand…"

The jar was emptied onto a metal tray, gloves were put on, tweezers were taken out and beans were very laboriously examined and put into a small metal box.

Not wanting to watch a salty younger Osiris pack that long list of ingredients, he sifted forward.

Jigger was going through the order, checking it, while short-haired Osiris skimmed one of their copies of the new journals as he waited.

"Who is that order for anyway, sir?" Osiris asked, closing the magazine and watching the Apothecary owner examine a green powder against the light over his head.

"Merlin that powder is nearly green enough to be neon." He lowered it back onto the counter, "And why do you ask?"

"Probably because I just powdered it, sir. We don't let it sit that way, oxidizes faster. And I ask because of the exhaustive specifications…very tediously picky."

"A research client."

"So you aren't going to say who, sir?"

"Alas, no. Confidentiality, my boy."

"It took forever for me to sort it and pack it, sir. We should have charged a hefty service fee."

Jigger snorted and said, "You mean an ice cream surcharge?"

"I wouldn't complain about that either, sir." Osiris smiled and added, "But I really meant a service fee. It took me the entire day."

"You'll get your ice cream surcharge since it's all correct. If the client takes it all without objection, I'll give you a tip too." He leaned forward and whispered, "One of my most difficult clients to please so don't hold your breath."

Osiris headed toward the front door, presumably for said ice cream. The door opened with a ding and someone walked into the shop.

Jigger called out to Osiris, "If you aren't back in an hour, I'll tell your mother what you're up to!"

"Yes, sir, I'll be back." Osiris then moved aside with a "Pardon me, sir" to the person who had walked in…

The person who had walked in was himself, it was his order. Younger him then strode by.

"Relation of yours, Jigger," his deep voice could be barely heard asking as Osiris passed from hearing distance and out the door.

Of course, Osiris' memory of it didn't continue since he wasn't there, but the professor recalled his own memory of it vividly. Jigger had told him the boy wasn't his relative but the one who had filled the order, the son of one of his rare stock suppliers. He recalled being annoyed, thinking his order was surely going to be all wrong if some kid put it together.

Osiris arrived back. His own younger self was long gone. Jigger looked up, shook a little black bag, and tossed it at Osiris. "Your tip."

The boy blushed and then frowned, presumably at the weight of it. He held it back out to Jigger. "You don't really need to tip me, sir, I was joking, and this is too much. Mum would murder me, bring me back to life, and then make me give it back."

"I didn't. The client did, said if a teenager really filled that part of his order, it was deserved for putting him in disbelief."

"Really, sir? Disbelief?" Osiris snickered, shrugged, and said, "Picky but generous."

"I don't know if it was precisely generosity but certainly appreciation of the care and attention to detail. Not an easy person to impress. Your mother will be pleased."

Younger Osiris snorted, "She'll just pat my head and say 'As I expected.'"

Pulling out of the memory, Severus shook his head as he sat opposite Osiris in his office. One event putting him in disbelief twice, at two separate times. He huffed with some amusement. This explained quite a number of things.

Osiris rubbed his left temple, blinked his eyes hard a few times, and said, "Haven't you seen me do enough things with ingredients to not want to look at that, sir? Rather boring."

"Do you realize that was me?"

"In my head? Of course, sir." He squinted his eyes.

"No, in your memory. That was me. That was my order."

Osiris belted out with laughter at that revelation, a few black curls shaking over his cheeks. He had not realized that, even reexperiencing the memory. He had not paid much attention to the person who had swept by him into the Jigger's shop on one random delivery. He was also considerably shorter then, so couldn't have gotten a great look at the professor's face. He had no way of knowing that was the person passing him was picking up what he had brought either.

"Well, master, I hate to inform you that I spent a good portion of my summers and holidays cursing this unnamed person while filling his orders, because Jigger told my mum and my mum just kept giving them to me over and over again whenever they came in."

"No wonder I thought you were exceptionally skilled at dealing with and preparing ingredients to my exacting standards when you arrived here…"

"Alas, no more generous tipping," Osiris joked.

He returned the joke with the obligatory thwap of the side of his head, "Your generous tip is learning what I know."

Osiris pretended to rub the spot on his head because that was part of the exchange, not because it hurt.

"Odd that you would come upon a memory in my head of you when I don't even remember it being you. I doubt I've even thought of those orders in forever. What are the chances of that being coincidental? Is that usual?"

"I have never had someone let me in, unless you count Potter's feeble ability as such, but I would not rule out that the magic involved likely searches out something relevant to you if you are not looking for something in particular."

Osiris nodded, "That makes sense." He rubbed his temple again, "It felt strange. It was different than when you've done it before or when the Dark Lord did."

"How so?"

"Like…I didn't just feel the magic or your magic. I felt your presence, sir, like sensed things from you…It's hard to explain."

"Now you are definitely going to have to explain. Like sensed what things?" How he hated the non-specific use of 'things.'

"I don't think you're going to like what I have to say, master…"

"I'm going to like it even less in about fifteen seconds."

"I sensed…for whatever reason…at that part of the memory…you thought my mother was…attractive…for example." He took in an uncomfortable breath, and then hastily snapped on a "Sir."

Severus did not dignify that with a response, because he was not sure what to say after being utterly startled by having his Legilimenced musings interpreted (accurately) by a teenaged novice. He really did not need to be thinking of any pretty, dead mothers either.

"What else did you…sense…from me," he asked, successfully not gritting it out and keeping his voice calm, pushing his other thoughts down.

"You thought our labeling on the jars at Khepri was impeccable, and you were…er…proud little me actually read it before playing with those hallucinogenic beans, sir."

He put a hand to his head, "Why couldn't you have led in with that, pray tell?"

"I, er, well, that's a good question, sir. It's not what stuck out first for, er, obvious reasons."

Sticking to the hallucinogenic beans, he confessed, "For a moment, I thought I was going to watch you touch the hallucinogenic beans with bare hands."

It had not been the same sort of twinge that one got when a first year one did not know was about to make a serious mistake. He could admit that to himself, odd as it was to experience.

Osiris snickered at the thought and shook his head. "My brother, maybe. He once knocked down an entire shelf section and asphyxiated himself trying to clean it up because he didn't want to tell my mother what he did. We have warding that picks up on crashes and contaminants, thankfully, but it was loud enough someone heard it. That was the last time he was allowed passed the front of the store." His brother was highly proficient in trying to get himself killed on accident around anything potions-related.

"How old were you in that memory?"

"Probably thirteen. It was a fair few years ago, sir."

"And how old were you when your mother started letting you help over summer and breaks?"

Osiris laughed again, "Letting me help! Oh, that's funny, sir." He tittered some more. "Mandated service, more like. I was raised in there; my mother didn't stop working when she had us. She probably had me stacking books or putting together boxes when I was six, popping out eyeballs when I was seven. She would say small hands can also be useful. It's a very busy place, there's always more things that need doing than people to do them."

There was much about Osiris that made more sense after just one unfettered leap into a memory. Maybe this was more useful than he might have thought, and more than for flexing the boy's Occlumency skill. The fact that Osiris could also sense things during this, though, was somewhat…discomforting. Potter accidentally pushing into his mind was enough to guard him toward repeats of such things.

Though…Osiris had just mentioned sensing his reactions and feelings to what he was seeing in Osiris' memories, and while that was more candor than he might like, it was not his own memories. There was safety in that.

"It is not often you find those with the largest Gringotts account have done themselves well by their advantages."

Osiris could not help it, he smiled, "Are you complimenting me for not being a spoiled brat, sir? Breaking the petulant, lazy rich boy stereotype? In honesty, you won't find much of that where I am from. We learn by doing and watching from very young." He may have done many dumb things and would probably do a few more, but he knew how to work.

"You can be both a brat and somewhat petulant, but it would not seem you are either spoiled or lazy. With that I will agree."

AN - Thank you to all who have reviewed and who have favorited the story or me! Osiris & Snape muses appreciate the attention though neither would ever admit it.

Here's a question for everyone: Do you believe in pure coincidence, or do you believe that coincidences (like Osiris & Snape crossing paths in the past) have greater meaning?