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Chapter 1: The Guild of the Grey

All men by nature desire knowledge.

Aristotle (384 BC - 322 BC), Metaphysics

This is pathetic.

The single thought was all that went through his head as Severus Snape stood at the end of the alley, observing the weathered building. Whether he was referring to the store, his targets within the store, or himself was uncertain. Hearing another batch of students passing behind him, Severus moved toward the patio, eyes scanning the tables. Failing to see the distinctive hair he was looking for, or the groups that he often went to great pains to avoid, he moved forward through the doors to get his first look at the inside.

A single eyebrow rising, he slid to the side, absently scanning for danger. He couldn't quite decide if the décor was garish or savagely beautiful, but either way the effect was overpowering. Eyes sliding over each carving, Severus smirked when he spotted a small bronze figurine of a rearing snake, which abruptly turned into a sneer upon sight of his archenemy snickering over a snake in a vulture's beak. Sliding carefully down the first aisle, he took stock of the wares heaped upon the shelves without a clear method of organization.

It took him three aisles before he located his first item—a canvas bag—and two sweeps of the store to find the underpants. Inwardly cringing, he glanced around furtively, and then quickly shoved two pairs into the bag. Turning, Severus was confronted with the glaring visage of a wooden pig, which was looking pointedly between his face and the bag.

"I will pay for it," Severus snapped, instantly feeling silly for defending himself against a piece of wood. However he refused to acknowledge his discomfort to a non-living object. Instead he stalked over to look at the newspapers while he waited for a Potter-free moment to purchase his things.

It took quite a number of minuets for the unruly gang to choose their sweets and leave, so much so that Severus had worked his way to the other end of the shelves. It wasn't until he had put down a useless book on gardening that he noticed the red hair. Despite his intention to keep an eye on the counter, he had found the selection of publications intriguing, and had been talking himself out of buying a defensive magic journal. (His other two purchases he could justify, his old bag had split too many times and was no longer strong enough for his books, and the underpants—well, he didn't need to think about that.) So it was that he found himself standing not three feet away from Lilly Evans, calmly picking her way through a heap of periodicals. Disturbed by his lack of observation, and the emotional reaction that he was furiously quenching, Severus glared and moved back slightly. His breathing hitched slightly when she noticed the movement and looked up.

"Hello, Severus."

Muscles tense, he nodded.

"Evans."

Nodding back, Lilly turned, selected a transfiguration journal, and moved to the counter. Once she was far enough Severus relaxed his muscles and cleared his lungs quietly. As when he talked himself out of the journal, he reminded himself again that he could no longer afford to join her. Not if he wanted to get anywhere in life. He was only just beginning to be recognized in his house. Being seen consorting with someone of her heritage, no matter how smart or pretty she was, would undo five full years of work.

Moving to the counter, and checking that no one was watching, Severus placed his items down, watching Lilly leave with a steaming cup. Impulsively, he also ordered coffee, glaring at the bronze nymph preening her hair on the counter.

"You wouldn't be the one that Potter brat got with the clothes shredding hex, would you?"

Ignoring the abrupt question, Severus pulled himself up and transferred his glare to the brunette behind the counter. Refusing to answer, he merely placed the required money on the counter. The man's eyebrow went up.

"That Black kid was bragging about how they got away with it, and I was thinking they all could use a few good smacks on the tushie."

Severus allowed himself just one second of surprise at the unusual word before he blanked his face. Suspicious, he gathered his change off the counter and stuffed the embarrassing fabric back into the bag. He was taken aback however when the man surreptitiously slid a small book over the counter.

"The Bard told me that I'll know who to give this to," He smirked, brown eyes glinting, "I expect you'll handle this with maturity and responsibility. I myself am a great supporter of Karma."

Severus eyed the leather bound book with hesitation, but silently placed it in his bag anyway, picked up the coffee, and moved outside.

Selecting a table with a decent vantage point, Severus settled in with his drink, eyes watchful. The Marauders were making fools of themselves at a centre table, transfiguring each other's facial features into animalistic equivalents. Thankfully they were too engrossed with pitting themselves against each other to notice him. Or Lily. Lily was seated with one of her Ravenclaw friends, debating over a marked up parchment that seemed to be covered with arithmacy equations.

Satisfied at the moment of his safely, Severus carefully removed the small book. The leather revealed nothing but the marks of normal wear, so he carefully lifted the cover, not entirely trusting that it wasn't another ill-intentioned prank. The inside revealed worn yellow parchment and a faded inscription on the first page in precise, blocked handwriting:

Guild of the Grey

SP & HE

56.9270, -3.2440

062400

Herein being a collection of knowledge

For he that walks the knife,

That he may not split himself upon it.

Severus stared at the page in confusion. He understood the second part well enough: the book was designed to aid people in precarious situations. It was the first part that baffled him. He had never heard of any such guild, and while he could assume the second line was initials, the numbers were beyond his comprehension. Scanning his surroundings once more, coffee forgotten, he turned to the next page. Revealed was script with slightly different handwriting, the awkwardly precise kind that indicated the writer was used to a more sloppy style. Leaning forward slightly, Severus' eyebrow raised as he read.

He who continues past this page to the knowledge within does hereby solemnly swear upon his peace of death to use what lies within to self-protect and retaliate, himself becoming a hallowed member of the Grey and Keeper of the Balance, so long as his mind holds, and does so solemnly swear upon the knowledge he gains that he shall find one whom within he sees himself to pass on this legacy.

He that takes this oath shall be bound to its word upon the turning of the page, and so swears to never disclose the knowledge within to any but his mirror heir, upon pain of loss of mind to both confessor and confidante, so long as his soul remains upon this earth.

So mote it be.

What followed was a series of initials, so small as to be almost unreadable, filing almost the entirety of the second half of the page. Rereading the passage, Severus became uneasy. He knew quite well about magically binding oaths, and this one stank of it. Placing his palm over the text, he closed his eyes and cautiously extended his senses the way his mother taught him. Almost as quickly as he reached out, Severus pulled back. The book was saturated in magic, deep magic. Yet, it did not carry the sense of maliciousness prevalent within the artifacts he usually practiced on.

Footsteps and a light tapping noise broke him out of his contemplation, causing him to slam the book shut and spin in his chair, fingers up his sleeve to his wand. Seeing the proprietor settling down at the corner table beside him, Severus relaxed and swivelled in his chair, putting his back against the fence again. Berating himself for his inattentiveness, he did another sweep of the patio, noting that Lilly had abandoned her friend and the marauders were trading sweets.

Eyes falling on the book lying innocently on the table, Severus decided to keep it closed until he could gain more information. He would not be able to call himself Slytherin if he didn't practice a little caution. Eyeing the door of the shop, he decided to comb the library first before confronting the teller. It would not do to entangle himself in something unworthy, especially if he was to rise to greatness the way he planned. He doubted the lord would take alternate allegiances well.

Gathering his things and leaving, Severus absently noted the tune the old man was humming, a block of wood being whittled into shape in his hands. He did not notice that the wood figure looked suspiciously like him, nor did he notice the small knowing smile in the blind eyes pointed his way.