Author's Notes: In this chapter, we get a teaser of Mira's story. And
Snape gets a teaser of something else of Mira's.
Disclaimer: If you recognize it from the books, then it doesn't belong to me. I just borrowed it to toy with for a while.
Chapter 3: Tension and chemistry make for a volatile potion.
Mirabelle was atop a short stepladder, replacing several of the hats on the display shelves, and grumbling to herself in a low voice: "Damn that Narcissa Malfoy and her stuck up friend. Coming into the shop an hour before closing to try on hats, and then not buying a thing. Like I have nothing better to do than wait hand and foot on them and deal with that little shit son of Narcissa's, making snide comments about my lack of robes while waiting on customers and trying to trip me. I can afford robes on my salary, however I choose not to wear them in the shop because they're a pain in the ass to climb up and down ladders and take measurements in. What's the problem with some of these wizarding families? You'd think they were afraid of anything muggle or something?" Mirabelle fumed over the rudeness of her previous customers while she levitated another hat off the counter and onto the shelf in front of her with her wand, and started artfully fluffing the plumes. She didn't see the dark robed man approach the store and stop in front of the window, peering in curiously.
Snape wanted to get the robe and get the hell home. He had been delayed near the train station by the father of a student who wanted to discuss the possibility of private tutoring lessons for his daughter, so that she could learn about potions that were not even legal to brew, much less appropriate for a teenage girl to be dabbling around with. Snape knew the man; he'd been sniffing around some of the local Death Eater hangouts, trying to find out how to get involved in the growing movement. Snape brushed them off by saying he was not allowed to tutor his students out of class, as it would be a conflict of interest when it came time to give out grades. But, if they went to the apothecary supply in Knockturn Alley, there was a notice board where they could post a notice to find a suitable tutor for their child.
He swept down the sidewalk with a scowl on his face. He approached the tailor shop, and something inside caught his eye and he paused at the large display window. It was that woman, "Belle", on a stepladder facing the wall. The airhead niece was nowhere to be seen. "Good" thought Snape, "hopefully this won't take long then. The muggle looking aunt at least seems to know what she's doing". Severus entered the door, and walked to the counter.
"Be with you in just a second!"
Snape crossed his arms over his chest, what little patience he had left was fading fast. He looked over at her, and found himself staring at her backside. But how could he miss it. She was on a stepladder, with one foot on the top and one foot on a lower rung, wearing a skirt made out of some kind of soft material that was stretched tautly over her hips. His eyes drifted down and he realized that the split in the back of her skirt was pulled open and he could see the back of her knee and her thigh disappearing into shadow. If he just took a step closer and looked just so, maybe he could see her... "What the HELL are you thinking? Looking up women's' skirts like some kind of perverted voyeur!" Snape silently scolded himself. But he was captivated by the sight, and started to feel a pleasant kind of warmth flowing through his body from imagining just what kind of muggle undergarments she wore under that skirt. Mirabelle stepped back down off the ladder, tucked her wand into a haphazardly arranged twist of hair on the back of her head, and turned to face him.
"Oh, professor Snape! I was beginning to wonder if you received the owl notice about your robe. Let me go back to the stockroom and get it for you. You can put your robe and cloak on the rack and wait by the mirror, I'll be right back".
Snape hung his robe and cloak on the rack, and walked over to the counter to get a closer look at the fancy little bottles he had noticed the first time he had been in the shop. There was a glass tray with several ornately decorated little vials of pale liquid. He picked one up, uncapped it, and took a sniff. "Roses" he thought. And another one marked "Amber". Then he realized just what kind of "potions" they were, it was a display of perfume. Just as he was setting the vial of "Eau de Moonflower" down, Mirabelle walked out from the back carrying a large box and saw Snape at the counter display.
"Oh, we just have ladies' fragrances right now, but if you wish, I can blend up something masculine for you, what do you prefer? Woodsy, spicy, or herbal?"
"Nothing, I was simply curious as to what they were," said Snape curtly.
"All right then" said Mirabelle. " Here's the robe, so why don't you step up on the platform so we can check the fit".
She opened the box and removed a large black robe with elaborate embellishment. The sleeves, hem, and neckline were all edged with a thin silver braid. There was a Hogwarts crest embroidered on the front yoke of the robe, and on the back, there was a kind of a cowl hanging down with a large Slytherin house crest embroidered in the center of it. "Nice" thought Snape. What he saw was a tasteful example of an academic dress robe. Snape could wear it in the presence of his students and co-workers without feeling ridiculous.
He took the heavy robe from Mirabelle, slipped it on over his head, and turned to the mirror, adjusting the sleeves. It suited him. Heavy but richly supple black fabric, which fell in perfect folds from his shoulders to the top of his shoes. The high-necked collar accentuated his sharp features and slender neck. There were two simple silver clasps at the neckline for a closure. "Elegant" he thought, feeling very relieved that Dumbledore had not chosen some flashy and ostentatious design for the robes. He turned in the mirror, admiring the robes from several angles.
"It certainly suits you professor," noted Mirabelle.
"Yes, I must say it does," replied Snape with a haughty smirk, admiring himself in the mirror.
Mirabelle slowly walked around the little pedestal in front of the mirror, checking every detail of the robe. The fit was very good, he wore robes well, but there was a minor problem with the hem at the bottom. "Hmmm... The hem of the robe needs to be straightened on the left side, let me make some markings, and I will fix it right up for you".
"No, that's not necessary. I'm sure the school's house elves can manage a simple task like hemming a robe. Please, if you could just box it up, I can take it with me now".
"Okay professor. I hate to let a robe leave the shop that has any problems, but you're right, the house elves can certainly manage it. Why don't you change back into your robe and I'll box it up for you".
Snape unclasped the neckline of the dress robe, and pulled it off over his head. Underneath his robes, he wore rather old fashioned looking muggle attire. Black button front trousers, a pale gray shirt with a tiny pleated frill at the neckline and wrists, and a fitted black tunic jacket with a high neck that closed with loops and buttons. Mirabelle watched him curiously, wondering why so many wizards and witches clung to older, archaic types of clothing if they wore any other clothing at all under their robes. She supposed that they were from old wizarding families who were so many generations removed from the muggle world that they had no idea what the current fashions were. There were a lot of things that Mirabelle didn't understand about the English wizarding community, and she felt that she never would, or even could understand fully their way of life.
He handed the robe to Mirabelle and began pulling on his over robe. She carefully folded and wrapped the new academic robe in tissue before placing it in a large cardboard box with the Treadle's Tailors logo printed on it. The logo was slowly moving across the surface of the box while fading from color to color. She handed the professor his package, and he performed a simple reduction charm on it and tucked it away in his robe pocket. She took his summer cloak off of the rack and held it out to him as he finished hooking the clasps on his simple black day robe.
"Please send the headmaster my greetings. Oh, and if Tricia gives you too much trouble in class this fall, please don't hesitate to send me an owl. She listens to me more than she listens to her own parents."
"Curious " thought Snape, remembering all the howlers and owls sent to Tricia's parents last term regarding her behavior. "Did they even read them?" He wondered. "Yes, Tricia does have problems in class, please make sure she understands that I was rather lenient with her last year because she was a first year student, but from now on, I will expect a higher standard of performance and behavior from her."
"I'll have a talk with her professor. Let me walk you to the door, its closing time. I need to change the sign and lock the door". Mirabelle motioned to the door, and held it open for Snape. She watched him head quickly towards the train station, and she flipped the sign from OPEN to CLOSED and locked the door, casting the usual protection charms on it before climbing the staircase in the back room to her tiny apartment over the store. "What an interesting man" she thought. "Too bad he has to be such an asshole".
Snape managed to make it back to the carriage behind the train station without delay. He lost himself in thought on the brief ride back to the castle. His usual surly and curt personality was especially acidic lately because of the additional stress of working as a spy for two masters, pledging true loyalty to only one. He didn't know that he was being spied upon himself, by a fellow Death Eater, sent by Voldemort to observe and report on his movements outside of the school. Had he not been distracted by his thoughts, he would have noticed the cloaked man sitting at a table at the cafe' across the street from the tailor shop get up and follow him to the carriage depot.
It was early in the morning, towards the middle of August. Professor Snape was at his desk working on translating an ancient potions manual from Latin to English, when there was a soft knock at the door. "Come in, this had better be worth disturbing my work." He said without looking up from his books.
The heavy door creaked open, and headmaster Dumbledore walked into the potions classroom. "Headmaster, my apologies. Do come have a seat, I'm just finishing a page in this translation, I'll be right with you". Headmaster Dumbledore wandered over to the student's supply cabinet, peering into bottles and jars of exotic and bizarre ingredients. He wandered back over to the potion master's desk just as Snape was putting his quill away. Snape pushed back his chair to stand, and the older man said "No, please don't stand, this won't take a second".
"Severus, I know that I do not have to tell you that I am growing increasingly concerned at the boldness and violence of the attacks upon muggle born people in Hogsmeade. I have an assignment for you, and it is of the utmost importance."
Snape had been on many missions for the headmaster over the past few months, but he could tell that this was something of particular importance, and he gave Dumbledore his full attention.
"As you know, it is nearing the end of summer. Traditionally the town of Hogsmeade has a large end of summer celebration. Some of the people in the ministry feel that it should be cancelled due to the ever-growing threat of violence from the Death Eaters and other followers of Voldemort. However, the mayor of the city and I both feel that it is important for the townspeople to have this celebration to lift their spirits a little. It will be good for the community, and good for morale. I need you to keep your ears and eyes open and alert me if you hear of any plans for an attack during the festival. Most of the townsfolk will be gathered in the town square that evening, and the ministry has reported some unsubstantiated warnings that there will be a major Death Eater attack somewhere in town that evening. I will also need for you to go undercover during the festival, and keep an eye on things in the town square and alert me at once if you see any Death Eaters gathering."
"Yes Albus, I understand. I will keep my eyes and ears open and report back to you as soon as I hear something. I have not been summoned with the dark mark in weeks, but I'll go into town and spend some time in the pub, just in case anybody starts talking out of turn after a few pints of ale."
"Thank you Severus, I know that your work here at the school is extremely valuable to us, but right now I need you to be my eyes and ears in town. If you need anything at all, please, do not hesitate to ask. I will make sure that all the resources of the ministry are at your disposal."
After the headmaster left, Snape worked on his translation a little more, then put his books and quills away and straightened up his desk. He then retired to his private quarters to prepare for an evening of espionage.
Snape lived in a small suite of rooms directly behind the potions lab. He placed his hand on the stone wall behind the largest workbench, and a plain door appeared. He traced an intricate symbol on the door with his wand, and the door dissolved away, allowing him to enter his chambers. The main room was a sitting area with a fireplace, a single wing back chair with footstool, several bookshelves, a curio cabinet filled with obscure and exotic magical devices, and a small table with a plain high backed chair where the professor took his afternoon tea between classes. The room was not quite Spartan, but not in any way "homey". He crossed in front of the fireplace and through an arched doorway that led into his bedchamber. Inside this room was a large four-poster bed, hung with heavy dark green draperies. Across from the bed was a smaller fireplace. To one side of it was a large ornate armoire, carved with the same motif as the bed frame. A dressing mirror and small bedside table and cushioned chair were the only other furnishings in this room. On the other side, was a door that led into a rather spacious and well-appointed bathroom. There were no family portraits in any of the rooms. The only piece of artwork was a large landscape painting in the bedroom, a dark stone castle in a clearing, with clouds floating in front of the moon and firelight flickering in the windows. His family's ancestral home. There were scattered heavy wrought iron candle sconces throughout the rooms, and a pair of torch holders flanking a shield bearing his family coat of arms above the sitting room fireplace. Overall, there was not much of a personal touch anywhere in his chambers. The professor's quarters were meticulously clean and orderly. He was a man who insisted on having things a certain way, and only the most experienced and responsible house elves at Hogwarts were assigned to keeping his quarters neat and tidy.
Snape stopped in front of a large mirror on a pedestal just outside his bathroom and studied his reflection in the firelight. He was starting to show his age and the stress of life as a double agent. Maybe some sun would do him good, and then maybe again there were more important things on his mind than a radiant complexion. He absentmindedly unclasped his cloak and unbuttoned his robe, laying them across the bed. He sunk wearily into the chair in the corner and summoned a house elf before dozing off from exhaustion. He awoke a half hour later to find his bath drawn, his cloak freshly pressed, and fresh clothes from his armoire laid out on the bed for him. There was even a hot cup of tea steaming on the bedside table.
"Aaah, the mark of a well trained house-elf... efficiency and invisibility." He picked up the cup of tea, took it into the bathroom, undressed, and slowly lowered himself into the steaming fragrant water. He let his mind drift and relished in the warmth he felt permeating his body from both inside and out through the tea and bath. After a good long soak, he exited the bath, dried himself, and ran a comb through his damp hair. He inspected the clothes laid out by the house-elf and sniffed an indifferent approval at the selection.
Not a flashy dresser, Snape preferred the darker side of the spectrum and his wardrobe was almost exclusively made up of black robes and cloaks with black tunics and trousers, worn with white or pale gray shirts. He was not a man who enjoyed excessive embellishment or decoration on his clothes. He preferred clean lines, simple button or clasp closures, and only the most minor decorative elements like narrow frills at the wrists and collars of his shirts and pleats and tucks on his tunics. His formal dress robes were the most highly decorative items of clothing that he owned, and they were quite understated by the standards that most wizards followed regarding dress. He preferred not to wear a hat or cap, and his unkempt long hair was the only part of his appearance that was not restrained and sharp. He dressed quickly, took a quick look in the mirror to make sure that everything met his discriminating standards. Satisfied in his appearance, Snape pulled on his cloak and proceeded out of his chambers, through the potions dungeon and up the stairs into the warm night air. Being on a clandestine mission to gather information in town, he pulled up his hood, and walked to the edge of the Hogwarts grounds. He apparated to a spot beneath the bridge that crosses the stream on the edge of the village. He quickly looked back and forth to see if he had been spotted, and seeing that the coast was clear, he headed quickly to the Hog's Head tavern, keeping in the shadows and avoiding the crowds. He took a booth in the back of the main seating area, and ordered a mug of ale.
Disclaimer: If you recognize it from the books, then it doesn't belong to me. I just borrowed it to toy with for a while.
Chapter 3: Tension and chemistry make for a volatile potion.
Mirabelle was atop a short stepladder, replacing several of the hats on the display shelves, and grumbling to herself in a low voice: "Damn that Narcissa Malfoy and her stuck up friend. Coming into the shop an hour before closing to try on hats, and then not buying a thing. Like I have nothing better to do than wait hand and foot on them and deal with that little shit son of Narcissa's, making snide comments about my lack of robes while waiting on customers and trying to trip me. I can afford robes on my salary, however I choose not to wear them in the shop because they're a pain in the ass to climb up and down ladders and take measurements in. What's the problem with some of these wizarding families? You'd think they were afraid of anything muggle or something?" Mirabelle fumed over the rudeness of her previous customers while she levitated another hat off the counter and onto the shelf in front of her with her wand, and started artfully fluffing the plumes. She didn't see the dark robed man approach the store and stop in front of the window, peering in curiously.
Snape wanted to get the robe and get the hell home. He had been delayed near the train station by the father of a student who wanted to discuss the possibility of private tutoring lessons for his daughter, so that she could learn about potions that were not even legal to brew, much less appropriate for a teenage girl to be dabbling around with. Snape knew the man; he'd been sniffing around some of the local Death Eater hangouts, trying to find out how to get involved in the growing movement. Snape brushed them off by saying he was not allowed to tutor his students out of class, as it would be a conflict of interest when it came time to give out grades. But, if they went to the apothecary supply in Knockturn Alley, there was a notice board where they could post a notice to find a suitable tutor for their child.
He swept down the sidewalk with a scowl on his face. He approached the tailor shop, and something inside caught his eye and he paused at the large display window. It was that woman, "Belle", on a stepladder facing the wall. The airhead niece was nowhere to be seen. "Good" thought Snape, "hopefully this won't take long then. The muggle looking aunt at least seems to know what she's doing". Severus entered the door, and walked to the counter.
"Be with you in just a second!"
Snape crossed his arms over his chest, what little patience he had left was fading fast. He looked over at her, and found himself staring at her backside. But how could he miss it. She was on a stepladder, with one foot on the top and one foot on a lower rung, wearing a skirt made out of some kind of soft material that was stretched tautly over her hips. His eyes drifted down and he realized that the split in the back of her skirt was pulled open and he could see the back of her knee and her thigh disappearing into shadow. If he just took a step closer and looked just so, maybe he could see her... "What the HELL are you thinking? Looking up women's' skirts like some kind of perverted voyeur!" Snape silently scolded himself. But he was captivated by the sight, and started to feel a pleasant kind of warmth flowing through his body from imagining just what kind of muggle undergarments she wore under that skirt. Mirabelle stepped back down off the ladder, tucked her wand into a haphazardly arranged twist of hair on the back of her head, and turned to face him.
"Oh, professor Snape! I was beginning to wonder if you received the owl notice about your robe. Let me go back to the stockroom and get it for you. You can put your robe and cloak on the rack and wait by the mirror, I'll be right back".
Snape hung his robe and cloak on the rack, and walked over to the counter to get a closer look at the fancy little bottles he had noticed the first time he had been in the shop. There was a glass tray with several ornately decorated little vials of pale liquid. He picked one up, uncapped it, and took a sniff. "Roses" he thought. And another one marked "Amber". Then he realized just what kind of "potions" they were, it was a display of perfume. Just as he was setting the vial of "Eau de Moonflower" down, Mirabelle walked out from the back carrying a large box and saw Snape at the counter display.
"Oh, we just have ladies' fragrances right now, but if you wish, I can blend up something masculine for you, what do you prefer? Woodsy, spicy, or herbal?"
"Nothing, I was simply curious as to what they were," said Snape curtly.
"All right then" said Mirabelle. " Here's the robe, so why don't you step up on the platform so we can check the fit".
She opened the box and removed a large black robe with elaborate embellishment. The sleeves, hem, and neckline were all edged with a thin silver braid. There was a Hogwarts crest embroidered on the front yoke of the robe, and on the back, there was a kind of a cowl hanging down with a large Slytherin house crest embroidered in the center of it. "Nice" thought Snape. What he saw was a tasteful example of an academic dress robe. Snape could wear it in the presence of his students and co-workers without feeling ridiculous.
He took the heavy robe from Mirabelle, slipped it on over his head, and turned to the mirror, adjusting the sleeves. It suited him. Heavy but richly supple black fabric, which fell in perfect folds from his shoulders to the top of his shoes. The high-necked collar accentuated his sharp features and slender neck. There were two simple silver clasps at the neckline for a closure. "Elegant" he thought, feeling very relieved that Dumbledore had not chosen some flashy and ostentatious design for the robes. He turned in the mirror, admiring the robes from several angles.
"It certainly suits you professor," noted Mirabelle.
"Yes, I must say it does," replied Snape with a haughty smirk, admiring himself in the mirror.
Mirabelle slowly walked around the little pedestal in front of the mirror, checking every detail of the robe. The fit was very good, he wore robes well, but there was a minor problem with the hem at the bottom. "Hmmm... The hem of the robe needs to be straightened on the left side, let me make some markings, and I will fix it right up for you".
"No, that's not necessary. I'm sure the school's house elves can manage a simple task like hemming a robe. Please, if you could just box it up, I can take it with me now".
"Okay professor. I hate to let a robe leave the shop that has any problems, but you're right, the house elves can certainly manage it. Why don't you change back into your robe and I'll box it up for you".
Snape unclasped the neckline of the dress robe, and pulled it off over his head. Underneath his robes, he wore rather old fashioned looking muggle attire. Black button front trousers, a pale gray shirt with a tiny pleated frill at the neckline and wrists, and a fitted black tunic jacket with a high neck that closed with loops and buttons. Mirabelle watched him curiously, wondering why so many wizards and witches clung to older, archaic types of clothing if they wore any other clothing at all under their robes. She supposed that they were from old wizarding families who were so many generations removed from the muggle world that they had no idea what the current fashions were. There were a lot of things that Mirabelle didn't understand about the English wizarding community, and she felt that she never would, or even could understand fully their way of life.
He handed the robe to Mirabelle and began pulling on his over robe. She carefully folded and wrapped the new academic robe in tissue before placing it in a large cardboard box with the Treadle's Tailors logo printed on it. The logo was slowly moving across the surface of the box while fading from color to color. She handed the professor his package, and he performed a simple reduction charm on it and tucked it away in his robe pocket. She took his summer cloak off of the rack and held it out to him as he finished hooking the clasps on his simple black day robe.
"Please send the headmaster my greetings. Oh, and if Tricia gives you too much trouble in class this fall, please don't hesitate to send me an owl. She listens to me more than she listens to her own parents."
"Curious " thought Snape, remembering all the howlers and owls sent to Tricia's parents last term regarding her behavior. "Did they even read them?" He wondered. "Yes, Tricia does have problems in class, please make sure she understands that I was rather lenient with her last year because she was a first year student, but from now on, I will expect a higher standard of performance and behavior from her."
"I'll have a talk with her professor. Let me walk you to the door, its closing time. I need to change the sign and lock the door". Mirabelle motioned to the door, and held it open for Snape. She watched him head quickly towards the train station, and she flipped the sign from OPEN to CLOSED and locked the door, casting the usual protection charms on it before climbing the staircase in the back room to her tiny apartment over the store. "What an interesting man" she thought. "Too bad he has to be such an asshole".
Snape managed to make it back to the carriage behind the train station without delay. He lost himself in thought on the brief ride back to the castle. His usual surly and curt personality was especially acidic lately because of the additional stress of working as a spy for two masters, pledging true loyalty to only one. He didn't know that he was being spied upon himself, by a fellow Death Eater, sent by Voldemort to observe and report on his movements outside of the school. Had he not been distracted by his thoughts, he would have noticed the cloaked man sitting at a table at the cafe' across the street from the tailor shop get up and follow him to the carriage depot.
It was early in the morning, towards the middle of August. Professor Snape was at his desk working on translating an ancient potions manual from Latin to English, when there was a soft knock at the door. "Come in, this had better be worth disturbing my work." He said without looking up from his books.
The heavy door creaked open, and headmaster Dumbledore walked into the potions classroom. "Headmaster, my apologies. Do come have a seat, I'm just finishing a page in this translation, I'll be right with you". Headmaster Dumbledore wandered over to the student's supply cabinet, peering into bottles and jars of exotic and bizarre ingredients. He wandered back over to the potion master's desk just as Snape was putting his quill away. Snape pushed back his chair to stand, and the older man said "No, please don't stand, this won't take a second".
"Severus, I know that I do not have to tell you that I am growing increasingly concerned at the boldness and violence of the attacks upon muggle born people in Hogsmeade. I have an assignment for you, and it is of the utmost importance."
Snape had been on many missions for the headmaster over the past few months, but he could tell that this was something of particular importance, and he gave Dumbledore his full attention.
"As you know, it is nearing the end of summer. Traditionally the town of Hogsmeade has a large end of summer celebration. Some of the people in the ministry feel that it should be cancelled due to the ever-growing threat of violence from the Death Eaters and other followers of Voldemort. However, the mayor of the city and I both feel that it is important for the townspeople to have this celebration to lift their spirits a little. It will be good for the community, and good for morale. I need you to keep your ears and eyes open and alert me if you hear of any plans for an attack during the festival. Most of the townsfolk will be gathered in the town square that evening, and the ministry has reported some unsubstantiated warnings that there will be a major Death Eater attack somewhere in town that evening. I will also need for you to go undercover during the festival, and keep an eye on things in the town square and alert me at once if you see any Death Eaters gathering."
"Yes Albus, I understand. I will keep my eyes and ears open and report back to you as soon as I hear something. I have not been summoned with the dark mark in weeks, but I'll go into town and spend some time in the pub, just in case anybody starts talking out of turn after a few pints of ale."
"Thank you Severus, I know that your work here at the school is extremely valuable to us, but right now I need you to be my eyes and ears in town. If you need anything at all, please, do not hesitate to ask. I will make sure that all the resources of the ministry are at your disposal."
After the headmaster left, Snape worked on his translation a little more, then put his books and quills away and straightened up his desk. He then retired to his private quarters to prepare for an evening of espionage.
Snape lived in a small suite of rooms directly behind the potions lab. He placed his hand on the stone wall behind the largest workbench, and a plain door appeared. He traced an intricate symbol on the door with his wand, and the door dissolved away, allowing him to enter his chambers. The main room was a sitting area with a fireplace, a single wing back chair with footstool, several bookshelves, a curio cabinet filled with obscure and exotic magical devices, and a small table with a plain high backed chair where the professor took his afternoon tea between classes. The room was not quite Spartan, but not in any way "homey". He crossed in front of the fireplace and through an arched doorway that led into his bedchamber. Inside this room was a large four-poster bed, hung with heavy dark green draperies. Across from the bed was a smaller fireplace. To one side of it was a large ornate armoire, carved with the same motif as the bed frame. A dressing mirror and small bedside table and cushioned chair were the only other furnishings in this room. On the other side, was a door that led into a rather spacious and well-appointed bathroom. There were no family portraits in any of the rooms. The only piece of artwork was a large landscape painting in the bedroom, a dark stone castle in a clearing, with clouds floating in front of the moon and firelight flickering in the windows. His family's ancestral home. There were scattered heavy wrought iron candle sconces throughout the rooms, and a pair of torch holders flanking a shield bearing his family coat of arms above the sitting room fireplace. Overall, there was not much of a personal touch anywhere in his chambers. The professor's quarters were meticulously clean and orderly. He was a man who insisted on having things a certain way, and only the most experienced and responsible house elves at Hogwarts were assigned to keeping his quarters neat and tidy.
Snape stopped in front of a large mirror on a pedestal just outside his bathroom and studied his reflection in the firelight. He was starting to show his age and the stress of life as a double agent. Maybe some sun would do him good, and then maybe again there were more important things on his mind than a radiant complexion. He absentmindedly unclasped his cloak and unbuttoned his robe, laying them across the bed. He sunk wearily into the chair in the corner and summoned a house elf before dozing off from exhaustion. He awoke a half hour later to find his bath drawn, his cloak freshly pressed, and fresh clothes from his armoire laid out on the bed for him. There was even a hot cup of tea steaming on the bedside table.
"Aaah, the mark of a well trained house-elf... efficiency and invisibility." He picked up the cup of tea, took it into the bathroom, undressed, and slowly lowered himself into the steaming fragrant water. He let his mind drift and relished in the warmth he felt permeating his body from both inside and out through the tea and bath. After a good long soak, he exited the bath, dried himself, and ran a comb through his damp hair. He inspected the clothes laid out by the house-elf and sniffed an indifferent approval at the selection.
Not a flashy dresser, Snape preferred the darker side of the spectrum and his wardrobe was almost exclusively made up of black robes and cloaks with black tunics and trousers, worn with white or pale gray shirts. He was not a man who enjoyed excessive embellishment or decoration on his clothes. He preferred clean lines, simple button or clasp closures, and only the most minor decorative elements like narrow frills at the wrists and collars of his shirts and pleats and tucks on his tunics. His formal dress robes were the most highly decorative items of clothing that he owned, and they were quite understated by the standards that most wizards followed regarding dress. He preferred not to wear a hat or cap, and his unkempt long hair was the only part of his appearance that was not restrained and sharp. He dressed quickly, took a quick look in the mirror to make sure that everything met his discriminating standards. Satisfied in his appearance, Snape pulled on his cloak and proceeded out of his chambers, through the potions dungeon and up the stairs into the warm night air. Being on a clandestine mission to gather information in town, he pulled up his hood, and walked to the edge of the Hogwarts grounds. He apparated to a spot beneath the bridge that crosses the stream on the edge of the village. He quickly looked back and forth to see if he had been spotted, and seeing that the coast was clear, he headed quickly to the Hog's Head tavern, keeping in the shadows and avoiding the crowds. He took a booth in the back of the main seating area, and ordered a mug of ale.