DISCLAIMER: I am making no money off of this, and this site isn't either. This is purely fan-fiction written by a weird person who has absolutely nothing better to do than write this stuff. I don't own Harry Potter, Hogwarts, Snape, etc. J.K.R. does. And if I reference to anyone else that does not seem to be original, chances are, they aren't. But I do have some of my own original characters in here (i.e., maybe, JUST maybe, the characters I didn't mention in this disclaimer?) Please don't take these! However, if you do, I can't see what I can do about it. Just refrain, please?

A very tall, taller than me, plump woman, brandished an umbrella in what one might consider a hostile manner. I took a step back, rather startled. Her dress was a faded and stained mauve calico, and her snow-white hair was done up in bouncing, frivolous curls. Her blue eyes were bright and cheerful, and seemed to hold a sense of eternal optimism.

"Ellie!" The shrill woman shrieked. "There you are!"

Eleanor Dorkas looked confused. "Hello Millicent," she said cautiously, curiously.

Even with the acknowledged familiarity between the two women, I still was unsure of whether to let the woman with the umbrella inside.

Millicent sensed my hesitancy. "Come on, man!" she demanded. "What am I, the fishmonger? Let me in!"

I stood my ground. "Not unless Mrs. Dorkas deems it alright. She has come here on confidential business."

"Not confidential from me, surely!"

Mrs. Dorkas shook her head vigorously. "No indeed, dear. Let her in, Mr. Snape."

Wincing at the 'Mr.' as opposed to my true status of 'Professor,' which I had abandoned in Muggle civilization, I took a step back and admitted the formidable lady.

I pulled an extra chair from the wall and brought it up to my desk in a gentile way. I noted, as 'Millicent' took her seat, that despite the fact that she seemed quite old, however, she moved with a quick, athletic grace uncommon in her aging years.

"We might begin," I hinted to both or either of them, "With an introduction?"

"Oh! Yes, of course, how incredibly silly of me," Mrs. Dorkas succumbed. The poor woman had absolutely no backbone. "This, Mr. Snape, is Millicent Louise Campbell, my fellow neighbour, baker, and dear friend."

"Ah. Hullo." I made no other comment.

Mrs. Dorkas went on, "Millicent, this man is Samuel Snape, a detective."

Millicent smiled. "But of course," she said, "Al told me you were coming up here to talk about the burglar you had."

"Indeed. But why did you come, Millicent?" Mrs. Dorkas looked a bit put-out indeed.

"Well, I had to be sure that you were all right, dear. No offence, but you're absolutely horrible at dealing with people."

Mrs. Dorkas smiled wanly. "Yes, you're quite right." She paused. "I don't know what I should do without you, Milly," she said, unnecessarily.

Mrs. Campell looked like a bird fluffing her feathers importantly.

I glanced at my watch pointedly.

Mrs. Dorkas stood. "Oh dear, I've taken up so much of your time already, Mr. Snape…I am sorry about that…"

I shrugged. "Nevermind, my next client isn't due for another few minutes," I lied effortlessly. "Do continue, only, try to be as brief as possible."

Mrs. Dorkas looked like a lost sheep again. I had to bring her home. "Your secret-chocolate-whatnot," I reminded.

Mrs. Dorkas smiled. "Ah, right, the Secret Ingredient Chocolate Caramel Crumb Coffee Cake Supreme." She looked relieved for the first time since Mrs. Campbell came.

"Well, sir, the Secret Ingredient Chocolate Caramel Crumb Coffee Cake Supreme is what our little teashop is renown for. And no baker in town has a coffee cake, or any other cake at that, like it at all. Of course, there are some knock-off-the-shelves imitations, but nothing quite like the real Secret Ingredient Chocolate Caramel Crumb Coffee Cake Supreme." (Here, I must note, I was getting a bit tired of the Secret Ingredient Chocolate Caramel Crumb Coffee Cake Supreme. After all, she said 'caramel' with three syllables…so it was even longer…)

However, I nodded appreciatively. "Of course," I remarked.

"Now no one, not even Millie here, knows the secret of my Secret Ingredient Chocolate Caramel Crumb Coffee Cake Supreme. Not a soul besides me. And believe me, scores and scores of people have offered me even money for the recipe. Perfect strangers come up to me on the street and try to get it. But they never succeed. And they will never succeed. At least, not until my very death." Here, she laughed uproariously.

I decided to put in a question. "Mrs. Dorkas, if this recipe is so important to keep secret, why do you even bother writing it down? You could merely memorize it, couldn't you?"

She nodded. "Yes, but what if I were to meet with an accident of some kind? Say, a car runs into me on the street? What shall become of my precious recipe then? No one shall ever know how to make it!"

"But who would know how to open the safe? What purpose is a recipe that no one can access?"

"Al knows the combination, and he'll not ever open it unless I tell him to."

"Of course." I paused. "Now tell me a bit about this husband of yours."

Mrs. Dorkas smiled. "He's s a lovely man. We've been married for three years, a year after since my previous husband passed away in a train accident in France."

"And you knew him for…how long before?"

"I knew him for two years before my husband died, meeting him at a Baker's Conference in town. When I met him, he was the recent widower of a wealthy woman named Elise Vancouver." She said the name as though it meant something significant. Millicent hastened to explain upon meeting my puzzled look.

"She was the co-editor of Foreman and Vancouver's Baking Magazine, the most eminent periodical of its kind." It was the information I was looking for, despite the fact that it sounded as though it were read right off of a reviews page.

I nodded in gratitude. "Thank you. So would you mind explaining—"

But my words were cut off by Millicent, who stood. "You know, Ellie," she declared, "I really don't know why we're bothering this man. He's really too busy to listen to this silly incident. It was probably, as the police said, just a common cat-burglar. We're wasting our time; this man can probably do no more for us than what the normal authorities have."

Mrs. Dorkas stayed sitting. "Now Millie, we've come all this way…"

"No buts about it, dear. We're leaving this man now; you've taken up quite a bit of his time." And with that, Millicent grabbed the arm of her friend and almost literally yanked her up. "We must be going, sir. Do excuse us." And she turned to go, dragging little Mrs. Dorkas behind. I stood up and opened the door politely for them. If they were going, well, I may as well remain polite.

"Here's for your time, so sorry to have bothered you," Mrs. Dorkas said meekly, pushing a bill into my hand. As her friend's back was turned, however, she made a 'call me,' sign with her right hand, and dropped a business card on the floor.

I waited until they were safely down the hall, out of sight, before retrieving it. On it was printed, in simple black-and-white, the name and address of the bakery, and the business and private phone numbers of one Eleanor Dorkas. I slipped the card into my pocket and wandered back into my office. I would join, rather late, my chatroom on Yahoo, then after what I deemed the correct amount of time, I would call Mrs. Dorkas.

Well, at least I now had a case. Magnificent.

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To Be Continued!

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