Author's Note: Well, from going on a little sojourn into the Harry Potter
books and looking around the web, I have found out that the Dark Mark is on
the left forearm of the Death Eaters. I put it on the right upper arm, as
though my brain thought it was some sort of "I heart Voldemort" design! Ah,
well. I'll put it in the correct place from now on, and I'll go back and
edit the offending chapters later on. I have already found a few things
that need changing in the first few chapters (repetition of words and
occasionally sentence structure being the major offenders), so I'll mess
around with it whenever I get the time or the urge. The next thing I'm
going to concentrate on is finding out if there are any descriptions of
when Voldemort and his Death Eaters first made themselves known to the
world. For that, it looks like I'm going to have to do an online search,
since I have no idea where in the books that might have been mentioned! I
read books through quickly and forget them quickly. Which makes rereading a
lot of fun, but is not an asset to a person who is trying to write
fanfiction! My imagination doesn't help, as it has been known to warp
scenes into how I think they should be rather than exactly how they have
been described. I live in mortal dread of stealing someone's ideas because
they dissolve into my mind soup. So don't hate me! I've got a lot o' stuff
cookin' in thar.
And now... chapter 6! Pretend you're in a restaurant: READ the menu (aka the story), ENJOY the meal (still aka my story) and then REVIEW the service (the way the story was written or the way the plot is going or whatever) by leaving a TIP (as in, what I should work on, what facts are screwy; but praise is just as welcome, if you find it in you!). Ok, ok. And NOW... chapter 6! For real!
***
Ollivanders' shop had been unchanged for so long that to the wizarding community of Britain, its existence was like the presence of air: no one gave it a thought unless they found themselves in need of it. The same wrinkled little man that today stood behind the counter, polishing a wand, was the same one that had served Snape almost ten years ago, and his mother said at the time that she recognized the man from her own first visit.
"Good day, Mr. Ollivander," said Lucius briskly. "How have you been lately?"
"Oh, business is steady, as it always is," the old man answered with a crooked little grin. "How is that wand of yours, Mr. Malfoy? Fourteen and three-quarters inches, isn't it? Pine wood, core of unicorn hair." He looked dreamily into space, digging into old memories. "Useful for illusions. I hope it has served you well?"
"Yes, my wand is just fine," said Malfoy impassively. "It's Severus here who needs your attention. He, unfortunately, has ruined his first wand."
"Have you, now?" asked Ollivanders with half-disguised dismay. As it is for most craftsmen, hearing of the destruction of a work was like a blow to the gut. "Severus... Severus Snape, I think?"
"That's right," Snape assured him blandly.
"Oh! You had a very nice wand, very lovely." Ollivander looked quite saddened by the thought of the broken work of art. "Exquisite work. All of my pieces are of the finest quality. May I- may I see it?" he asked, as though requesting to see the earthly remains of a departed friend. Snape gladly withdrew the splintered main body and a finger-sized wooden shard. He was glad to get them out of his pocket before he fell to the ground again and perhaps stabbed himself on the dangerous ends.
"Oh..." said the shopkeeper with quiet sadness, cradling the pieces. "Yes... holly oak, hair of unicorn, fourteen inches long... At least, it was." He looked up sharply at Snape, whose eyes narrowed unpleasantly. "Irreparable damage, Mr. Snape. You'll be in need of a new wand. I only hope you've learned your lesson-"
"Yes, fine. I've learned that running is dangerous. Thank you. One more reason not to do it on a regular basis!"
"Severus, have you no manners?" demanded Lucius sharply, his eyes flashing blue-blooded displeasure.
"Not many," Snape retorted, and folded his arms crossly. He wished that Malfoy had not accompanied him to the shop. His very presence made Snape's skin tingle with the desire to be away from Lucius, from Death Eaters, from everything. He had not changed much since his school days: he still much preferred to go it alone.
"No need to work yourself into a tizzy, Mr. Malfoy," Ollivander interrupted before Lucius had a chance to worsen the situation. "I'd be angry, too, if I'd just lost a wand," he offered by way of explanation, but the glance he threw at Snape told his customer that without a doubt his only reason for mediating was to keep the two men from making a scene. "Let me see what I have that might fit..."
Snape glared at the ceiling as the old man ran his hand over the boxes stacked on the shelves behind the counter. His gnarled fingers paused at one box, and he thought for a few seconds before moving on.
"What exactly are you looking for?" Snape asked after a few moments. "I've an appointment to get to, if you don't mind." Lucius was giving him the evil eye.
"If you'll wait just a moment," Ollivander began, his hand still dancing over the boxes. "I am looking for... This!" Triumphantly he pulled out a long box in a shade of warm yellow and delightedly showed it to Severus, who regarded it with raised eyebrows.
Grinning, the old man lifted the lid and removed a long, thin rod of a deep red color. It was well-polished, as was all of Ollivander's handiwork, and it looked at least as long as the broken wand had been.
"Mahogany, fourteen inches, unicorn hair core," recited the wand-maker. "Not quite what you are used to, I think. But I have found that, as much as it pains me to see one of my creations destroyed, oftentimes when a wizard loses a wand, it happens for a reason." He looked Snape squarely in the eye.
"What reason do you have to believe that?" asked Snape with a touch of interest. He took the wand offered to him and looked it over, turning it in his fingers. He liked the feel of its heaviness in his palm.
When Ollivander did not answer right away, Snape took his opportunity and swished the wand expertly through the air in a tight, curling pattern. When it stopped, pointing like an extension of his index finger, its tip was pointed straight at the shopkeeper. To Severus' surprise, an odd change was developing in the vendor's kindly face. His peculiar little smile twisted into an open-mouthed, animal-like grimace, his cheeks sank, and his eyes became deep, hollow, and deathly. Amazed and appalled, Severus turned to look at Lucius, only to find that the other Death Eater was glancing from Ollivander to Snape with a look of unperturbed condescension. Training his eyes once more upon the shopkeeper, Snape was even more surprised to find that his victim was looking ordinary again, except for the fact that he was holding a hand to his head.
"Yes. Mahogany," said Mr. Ollivander with a knowing smile. "A great channeler of human energies. Paired with unicorn hair, very good for working mind tricks."
"Mind tricks!" scoffed Severus. He was beginning to miss his old wand. Ollivander had said it was "perfect for curses." Just the sort of thing that would have helped him most right now! "Are you certain the old wand can't be repaired? Or perhaps, could you find another very much like it?"
"Mr. Snape, you know very well that neither you nor I chose the wand. The wand chooses the wielder."
"Yes, but you see a wand has already 'chosen me,' except now it's broken, and you are telling me I must take this one? It's nothing like the old one- "
"Wands are his business, Severus," Lucius put in. "Just pay the man whatever amount you owe and let's be off!"
"Hold on a moment," Ollivander said brusquely, pulling down from the shelf the box he had previously considered. "Here. Holly oak, unicorn hair, thirteen and three quarters inches. Closest thing I've got to the one you had. Try it out! See for yourself!" he said, exchanging the mahogany wand for this new one.
With a sneer, Snape mimicked his previous wand movement, again pointing the wand at Ollivander. As he watched with a growing smirk, the old man's face began to contort, and-
"What is that vile stench?" asked Ollivander, sniffing the air and making a disgusted face. Snape's heart fell. "I'm sure you wouldn't believe me about the smell," Ollivanders said. He wrinkled his nose. "But if nothing else has happened, I think even you, Mr. Snape, will have to agree that this wand is not meant for you." He took the wand from Severus' unresisting hands and handed him the one of mahogany.
"Good. I'm glad we've settled your dispute so quickly," said Lucius.
"Indeed!" said Ollivander with a smile, accepting the gold galleons Snape was placing in his hands. "I know that wand is right for you, Mr. Snape. There is no doubt."
"There is always doubt," Snape snorted, putting away his leather coin bag.
"It hardly matters one way or another. Many thanks, Mr. Ollivander. Come, Severus!" Lucius finished, and exited the shop.
"Thank you for patronizing Ollivander's," the old man smiled. "Enjoy your purchase!"
"Er... Yes. Thank you," said Snape through gritted teeth, and quickly tucked the wand away before dashing out onto Diagon Alley.
The street was full of wizards and witches window-shopping and simply strolling along. Over London, the skies were for the most part clear today, and the sun of afternoon-going-on-evening gilded the heads of the people and shop fronts. Scanning the scene, Severus found Lucius Malfoy standing, aloof, to the right of Ollivander''s store.
"I don't see what made you feel you ought to act so exceptionally vulgar," said Malfoy, starting to walk without looking at Severus. "Ollivander is one of the last surviving pure-bloods of that name."
"He supplied me with a wand that does not suit my purposes." Snape grumbled. "The old one was perfect just as it was!"
"Well then you shouldn't have broken it," Malfoy reminded him calmly. "That man knows exactly what he's doing." Snape remained silent. "Come, now. Stop here; there's a book of spells I'm thinking of purchasing."
At Malfoy's request, the two men turned into the shop under the title "Flourish and Blott's." The interior was cheery and warm, with books covering nearly every surface, and the free spaces devoted to inks, quills, and parchment in dozens of varieties. A few wizards and a couple of witches were quietly browsing the sections beneath the little signs declaring such categories as "cooking spells," "encyclopædias" and "fashion," among many others.
"Wait out here, Severus," said Malfoy quickly, "I must speak with someone in the back, but I'll return shortly," and he glided away without waiting for a response.
"Well," said Snape softly, looking hungrily at the bound knowledge all about him. He loved books, and always had; particularly spellbooks, but he was glad to read just about anything. He wondered if he could use any more volumes on curses, now that he was a Death Eater under Lord Voldemort's command, but was disappointed to realize that he had nearly everything for sale under the curses section. There had to be something he hadn't yet bought!
A book of misty blue caught his eye amongst the dearth of binding in red, black, and green, and knowing that he owned nothing like it, he picked it up. "The Art of Lying and Catching Others At It," was the title, and on the front cover, a middle-aged witch beckoned Snape forward, motioning for him to take a look. Without hesitation, he opened the book to the introduction and read the first passage.
"Have you ever tried to lie to a friend, but been inexplicably found out? Do you often wish you could know for certain whether someone is in jest or in earnest? If the answer is 'yes,' then chances are good that you have never delved into the sorcery of occlumency and legilimency, although perhaps one of your acquaintances has! To keep one step ahead of the others, read this book and let Miss Finny teach you how to protect your mind from intrusion and slip into other's thoughts. You will be on top of the world!"
Snape didn't know what to make of this "Miss Finny," but the promises she made were enough to convince him to purchase his find. That, coupled with Ollivander's assurance that his new wand was "good for mind tricks." As a man of magic, himself, he was more than a little prepared to believe that there were no such things in life as coincidences. He hurried up to the register to pay for the little book, saying a little prayer of thanks to his mother for furnishing him enough gold to allow him to cover the cost of living... and reading.
"All right. Finished," said Malfoy, striding out of the back of the shop as Snape exchanged coin for purchase at the register. "Ready to leave, Severus?"
"Now I am," he said, a shade less sullen than before. He tucked the little book into an inner pocket before Malfoy could ask him about it, and in turn he decided not to ask Lucius about his business in the back of the shop.
In silence, the two men left the shop and walked at a leisurely pace to the entrance to Knockturn Alley. Snape knew that though the narrow street might at this time be free of shoppers, when night fell the Alley would be bustling with the darkest witches and wizards in Britain.
The two wizards stopped at Borgin and Burke's and peered in through the dirty window to see if they might discern the faces of the other two Death Eaters. In shades of gritty brown and urine yellow, Snape saw the face of Rookwood turn to look at him and Lucius. His eyes were wide with concern, and he mouthed something at them.
"What did he say?" demanded Snape.
"I couldn't tell," Lucius responded, and shook his head to indicate that they didn't understand. Inside the shop, Rookwood looked exasperated and moved to the door, which he opened.
"What do you want, Augustus?" asked Malfoy. "Aren't you bringing Karkaroff to practice in the meeting room?"
"Yes, but you'll have to wait a bit," said Rookwood uncomfortably. "We're trying to sort out a little incident..."
"What's happened?"
"Well, you see... Karkaroff's got himself trapped in a Ravenous Chair," Rookwood said apologetically, "and also, I think he's killed the shopkeeper."
*** Remember, you've just eaten at a sit-down restaurant... Don't you want the cook to know how you liked the food? Anyway-hope you're enjoying it!
Extra Important Author Note: Ok. Now I can firmly credit Knurd to Terry Pratchett thanks to LadyGame. I was thinking it was something out of Harry Potter (I was thinking they gave it to Winky that time she was drunk, but apparently, no, and Knurd is out of Men at Arms, by Terry Pratchett. Whatever else there is (is it the Yard of No Mercy? I only named it that because it sounded wizardy... probably came out of a Terry Pratchett novel, then, too) I will just gloss over by saying "thank you to Terry Pratchett. My brain can't keep two writers about magic from squishing together into one big blob of magic story in my brain." Associative memories really suck, but as long as you admit it, I guess it shouldn't interfere too much with a fanfiction, of all things. If you're enjoying reading it, that's what matters most (in fanfiction). Luckily, I have no desire to write original character stories about magic thingies. The logistics are too complicated.
Note about Rookwood: he's a little bit odd, I know. And I'm not trying to make him shout, I just was trying to get across the feeling that he's a little certain of himself, a little enthusiastic about himself, a little oblivious to the fact that there are other people with equally important things to say. Not that he doesn't listen, but he expects to be listened to, in the sense that he likes a direct response (not necessarily that you do what he asks). I'll try to cut back on his exclamation marks.
Also: Wand cores. I was under the mistaken impression that Ollivander (I spelled his name wrong, but look! I've fixed it!) had only MENTIONED the cores. Having recaptured Sorcerer's Stone from my brothers, I find that, sadly, there seem to indeed be only three wand cores. How stinky! Dragging my feet in sadness, I have changed the wand cores to be one of the three. Sigh. I liked the idea of goblin hair and shaved hydra scale... Stupid Ollivander just doesn't have vision! ") Naw, I'm kidding. It's not like it's a major plot point, or anything, and it's Rowling's world, after all.
Also also: I know Snape is in a weird mood. He's a weird guy, and in my mind more than a little temperamental. My take on it is that he's really just sort of caustic and even able to be a bit amused with life, right now. He's just been accepted into a secret association, people are talking to him in a way that is almost companionable, and he isn't used to any of it. Later in the story, I expect his personality to evolve a bit, into the dark Snape we know. I said he was "stone" in the beginning, but in this life of his, he still has a few hardening procedures to go through. Being a Death Eater is like that. But you'll just have to see!
My apologies for confusion, annoyances, and any Terry Pratchetts mascarading as either JK Rowlings or Feronias. It is completely unintentional, and the result of my not having read either set of books for a long while, in addition to sheer stupidity. I hope this story's idiosyncrasies do not interfere with its likeability. I'm working on the next chapter right now...
And now... chapter 6! Pretend you're in a restaurant: READ the menu (aka the story), ENJOY the meal (still aka my story) and then REVIEW the service (the way the story was written or the way the plot is going or whatever) by leaving a TIP (as in, what I should work on, what facts are screwy; but praise is just as welcome, if you find it in you!). Ok, ok. And NOW... chapter 6! For real!
***
Ollivanders' shop had been unchanged for so long that to the wizarding community of Britain, its existence was like the presence of air: no one gave it a thought unless they found themselves in need of it. The same wrinkled little man that today stood behind the counter, polishing a wand, was the same one that had served Snape almost ten years ago, and his mother said at the time that she recognized the man from her own first visit.
"Good day, Mr. Ollivander," said Lucius briskly. "How have you been lately?"
"Oh, business is steady, as it always is," the old man answered with a crooked little grin. "How is that wand of yours, Mr. Malfoy? Fourteen and three-quarters inches, isn't it? Pine wood, core of unicorn hair." He looked dreamily into space, digging into old memories. "Useful for illusions. I hope it has served you well?"
"Yes, my wand is just fine," said Malfoy impassively. "It's Severus here who needs your attention. He, unfortunately, has ruined his first wand."
"Have you, now?" asked Ollivanders with half-disguised dismay. As it is for most craftsmen, hearing of the destruction of a work was like a blow to the gut. "Severus... Severus Snape, I think?"
"That's right," Snape assured him blandly.
"Oh! You had a very nice wand, very lovely." Ollivander looked quite saddened by the thought of the broken work of art. "Exquisite work. All of my pieces are of the finest quality. May I- may I see it?" he asked, as though requesting to see the earthly remains of a departed friend. Snape gladly withdrew the splintered main body and a finger-sized wooden shard. He was glad to get them out of his pocket before he fell to the ground again and perhaps stabbed himself on the dangerous ends.
"Oh..." said the shopkeeper with quiet sadness, cradling the pieces. "Yes... holly oak, hair of unicorn, fourteen inches long... At least, it was." He looked up sharply at Snape, whose eyes narrowed unpleasantly. "Irreparable damage, Mr. Snape. You'll be in need of a new wand. I only hope you've learned your lesson-"
"Yes, fine. I've learned that running is dangerous. Thank you. One more reason not to do it on a regular basis!"
"Severus, have you no manners?" demanded Lucius sharply, his eyes flashing blue-blooded displeasure.
"Not many," Snape retorted, and folded his arms crossly. He wished that Malfoy had not accompanied him to the shop. His very presence made Snape's skin tingle with the desire to be away from Lucius, from Death Eaters, from everything. He had not changed much since his school days: he still much preferred to go it alone.
"No need to work yourself into a tizzy, Mr. Malfoy," Ollivander interrupted before Lucius had a chance to worsen the situation. "I'd be angry, too, if I'd just lost a wand," he offered by way of explanation, but the glance he threw at Snape told his customer that without a doubt his only reason for mediating was to keep the two men from making a scene. "Let me see what I have that might fit..."
Snape glared at the ceiling as the old man ran his hand over the boxes stacked on the shelves behind the counter. His gnarled fingers paused at one box, and he thought for a few seconds before moving on.
"What exactly are you looking for?" Snape asked after a few moments. "I've an appointment to get to, if you don't mind." Lucius was giving him the evil eye.
"If you'll wait just a moment," Ollivander began, his hand still dancing over the boxes. "I am looking for... This!" Triumphantly he pulled out a long box in a shade of warm yellow and delightedly showed it to Severus, who regarded it with raised eyebrows.
Grinning, the old man lifted the lid and removed a long, thin rod of a deep red color. It was well-polished, as was all of Ollivander's handiwork, and it looked at least as long as the broken wand had been.
"Mahogany, fourteen inches, unicorn hair core," recited the wand-maker. "Not quite what you are used to, I think. But I have found that, as much as it pains me to see one of my creations destroyed, oftentimes when a wizard loses a wand, it happens for a reason." He looked Snape squarely in the eye.
"What reason do you have to believe that?" asked Snape with a touch of interest. He took the wand offered to him and looked it over, turning it in his fingers. He liked the feel of its heaviness in his palm.
When Ollivander did not answer right away, Snape took his opportunity and swished the wand expertly through the air in a tight, curling pattern. When it stopped, pointing like an extension of his index finger, its tip was pointed straight at the shopkeeper. To Severus' surprise, an odd change was developing in the vendor's kindly face. His peculiar little smile twisted into an open-mouthed, animal-like grimace, his cheeks sank, and his eyes became deep, hollow, and deathly. Amazed and appalled, Severus turned to look at Lucius, only to find that the other Death Eater was glancing from Ollivander to Snape with a look of unperturbed condescension. Training his eyes once more upon the shopkeeper, Snape was even more surprised to find that his victim was looking ordinary again, except for the fact that he was holding a hand to his head.
"Yes. Mahogany," said Mr. Ollivander with a knowing smile. "A great channeler of human energies. Paired with unicorn hair, very good for working mind tricks."
"Mind tricks!" scoffed Severus. He was beginning to miss his old wand. Ollivander had said it was "perfect for curses." Just the sort of thing that would have helped him most right now! "Are you certain the old wand can't be repaired? Or perhaps, could you find another very much like it?"
"Mr. Snape, you know very well that neither you nor I chose the wand. The wand chooses the wielder."
"Yes, but you see a wand has already 'chosen me,' except now it's broken, and you are telling me I must take this one? It's nothing like the old one- "
"Wands are his business, Severus," Lucius put in. "Just pay the man whatever amount you owe and let's be off!"
"Hold on a moment," Ollivander said brusquely, pulling down from the shelf the box he had previously considered. "Here. Holly oak, unicorn hair, thirteen and three quarters inches. Closest thing I've got to the one you had. Try it out! See for yourself!" he said, exchanging the mahogany wand for this new one.
With a sneer, Snape mimicked his previous wand movement, again pointing the wand at Ollivander. As he watched with a growing smirk, the old man's face began to contort, and-
"What is that vile stench?" asked Ollivander, sniffing the air and making a disgusted face. Snape's heart fell. "I'm sure you wouldn't believe me about the smell," Ollivanders said. He wrinkled his nose. "But if nothing else has happened, I think even you, Mr. Snape, will have to agree that this wand is not meant for you." He took the wand from Severus' unresisting hands and handed him the one of mahogany.
"Good. I'm glad we've settled your dispute so quickly," said Lucius.
"Indeed!" said Ollivander with a smile, accepting the gold galleons Snape was placing in his hands. "I know that wand is right for you, Mr. Snape. There is no doubt."
"There is always doubt," Snape snorted, putting away his leather coin bag.
"It hardly matters one way or another. Many thanks, Mr. Ollivander. Come, Severus!" Lucius finished, and exited the shop.
"Thank you for patronizing Ollivander's," the old man smiled. "Enjoy your purchase!"
"Er... Yes. Thank you," said Snape through gritted teeth, and quickly tucked the wand away before dashing out onto Diagon Alley.
The street was full of wizards and witches window-shopping and simply strolling along. Over London, the skies were for the most part clear today, and the sun of afternoon-going-on-evening gilded the heads of the people and shop fronts. Scanning the scene, Severus found Lucius Malfoy standing, aloof, to the right of Ollivander''s store.
"I don't see what made you feel you ought to act so exceptionally vulgar," said Malfoy, starting to walk without looking at Severus. "Ollivander is one of the last surviving pure-bloods of that name."
"He supplied me with a wand that does not suit my purposes." Snape grumbled. "The old one was perfect just as it was!"
"Well then you shouldn't have broken it," Malfoy reminded him calmly. "That man knows exactly what he's doing." Snape remained silent. "Come, now. Stop here; there's a book of spells I'm thinking of purchasing."
At Malfoy's request, the two men turned into the shop under the title "Flourish and Blott's." The interior was cheery and warm, with books covering nearly every surface, and the free spaces devoted to inks, quills, and parchment in dozens of varieties. A few wizards and a couple of witches were quietly browsing the sections beneath the little signs declaring such categories as "cooking spells," "encyclopædias" and "fashion," among many others.
"Wait out here, Severus," said Malfoy quickly, "I must speak with someone in the back, but I'll return shortly," and he glided away without waiting for a response.
"Well," said Snape softly, looking hungrily at the bound knowledge all about him. He loved books, and always had; particularly spellbooks, but he was glad to read just about anything. He wondered if he could use any more volumes on curses, now that he was a Death Eater under Lord Voldemort's command, but was disappointed to realize that he had nearly everything for sale under the curses section. There had to be something he hadn't yet bought!
A book of misty blue caught his eye amongst the dearth of binding in red, black, and green, and knowing that he owned nothing like it, he picked it up. "The Art of Lying and Catching Others At It," was the title, and on the front cover, a middle-aged witch beckoned Snape forward, motioning for him to take a look. Without hesitation, he opened the book to the introduction and read the first passage.
"Have you ever tried to lie to a friend, but been inexplicably found out? Do you often wish you could know for certain whether someone is in jest or in earnest? If the answer is 'yes,' then chances are good that you have never delved into the sorcery of occlumency and legilimency, although perhaps one of your acquaintances has! To keep one step ahead of the others, read this book and let Miss Finny teach you how to protect your mind from intrusion and slip into other's thoughts. You will be on top of the world!"
Snape didn't know what to make of this "Miss Finny," but the promises she made were enough to convince him to purchase his find. That, coupled with Ollivander's assurance that his new wand was "good for mind tricks." As a man of magic, himself, he was more than a little prepared to believe that there were no such things in life as coincidences. He hurried up to the register to pay for the little book, saying a little prayer of thanks to his mother for furnishing him enough gold to allow him to cover the cost of living... and reading.
"All right. Finished," said Malfoy, striding out of the back of the shop as Snape exchanged coin for purchase at the register. "Ready to leave, Severus?"
"Now I am," he said, a shade less sullen than before. He tucked the little book into an inner pocket before Malfoy could ask him about it, and in turn he decided not to ask Lucius about his business in the back of the shop.
In silence, the two men left the shop and walked at a leisurely pace to the entrance to Knockturn Alley. Snape knew that though the narrow street might at this time be free of shoppers, when night fell the Alley would be bustling with the darkest witches and wizards in Britain.
The two wizards stopped at Borgin and Burke's and peered in through the dirty window to see if they might discern the faces of the other two Death Eaters. In shades of gritty brown and urine yellow, Snape saw the face of Rookwood turn to look at him and Lucius. His eyes were wide with concern, and he mouthed something at them.
"What did he say?" demanded Snape.
"I couldn't tell," Lucius responded, and shook his head to indicate that they didn't understand. Inside the shop, Rookwood looked exasperated and moved to the door, which he opened.
"What do you want, Augustus?" asked Malfoy. "Aren't you bringing Karkaroff to practice in the meeting room?"
"Yes, but you'll have to wait a bit," said Rookwood uncomfortably. "We're trying to sort out a little incident..."
"What's happened?"
"Well, you see... Karkaroff's got himself trapped in a Ravenous Chair," Rookwood said apologetically, "and also, I think he's killed the shopkeeper."
*** Remember, you've just eaten at a sit-down restaurant... Don't you want the cook to know how you liked the food? Anyway-hope you're enjoying it!
Extra Important Author Note: Ok. Now I can firmly credit Knurd to Terry Pratchett thanks to LadyGame. I was thinking it was something out of Harry Potter (I was thinking they gave it to Winky that time she was drunk, but apparently, no, and Knurd is out of Men at Arms, by Terry Pratchett. Whatever else there is (is it the Yard of No Mercy? I only named it that because it sounded wizardy... probably came out of a Terry Pratchett novel, then, too) I will just gloss over by saying "thank you to Terry Pratchett. My brain can't keep two writers about magic from squishing together into one big blob of magic story in my brain." Associative memories really suck, but as long as you admit it, I guess it shouldn't interfere too much with a fanfiction, of all things. If you're enjoying reading it, that's what matters most (in fanfiction). Luckily, I have no desire to write original character stories about magic thingies. The logistics are too complicated.
Note about Rookwood: he's a little bit odd, I know. And I'm not trying to make him shout, I just was trying to get across the feeling that he's a little certain of himself, a little enthusiastic about himself, a little oblivious to the fact that there are other people with equally important things to say. Not that he doesn't listen, but he expects to be listened to, in the sense that he likes a direct response (not necessarily that you do what he asks). I'll try to cut back on his exclamation marks.
Also: Wand cores. I was under the mistaken impression that Ollivander (I spelled his name wrong, but look! I've fixed it!) had only MENTIONED the cores. Having recaptured Sorcerer's Stone from my brothers, I find that, sadly, there seem to indeed be only three wand cores. How stinky! Dragging my feet in sadness, I have changed the wand cores to be one of the three. Sigh. I liked the idea of goblin hair and shaved hydra scale... Stupid Ollivander just doesn't have vision! ") Naw, I'm kidding. It's not like it's a major plot point, or anything, and it's Rowling's world, after all.
Also also: I know Snape is in a weird mood. He's a weird guy, and in my mind more than a little temperamental. My take on it is that he's really just sort of caustic and even able to be a bit amused with life, right now. He's just been accepted into a secret association, people are talking to him in a way that is almost companionable, and he isn't used to any of it. Later in the story, I expect his personality to evolve a bit, into the dark Snape we know. I said he was "stone" in the beginning, but in this life of his, he still has a few hardening procedures to go through. Being a Death Eater is like that. But you'll just have to see!
My apologies for confusion, annoyances, and any Terry Pratchetts mascarading as either JK Rowlings or Feronias. It is completely unintentional, and the result of my not having read either set of books for a long while, in addition to sheer stupidity. I hope this story's idiosyncrasies do not interfere with its likeability. I'm working on the next chapter right now...
