Lost- Together, we have converted someone! Huzzah! Thank you very much!
She-Elf- Ah, thanks! I'm glad you are enjoying it!
And, what do you mean? I don't make mestakes.
Mmm. You know what I need? I need a proofreading house-elf. Cause no matter how many times I read stuff there's always something that I catch later like that. And every time I sigh and say, "Ah boo." Maybe I can get him to make me soup, too…
Jynx'sbox- Your surprised-ness surprised me. But pleasantly so. No, you're not bad at posting reviews. You posed an excellent question.
As pertaining to Deathly Hallows, scroll down to find my answers.
Euripides- Blushes I haven't been this complemented since Madam Pomphrey told me I had nice earmuffs. I'm glad you have inspiration! It is an infectious thing, isn't it? (Cough JK Rowling)
Die666- Doh! Here they are again! The puppy-dog eyes! Shall I never escape the wrath of the cute?
A.C. Mathur- Thanks, I found the quote entertaining to write. I've always thought that young Severus is much easier to provoke and to engage than Professor-hide-everything-in-a-black-pit-of-despair-Snape. Thanks for the reviews; they're very encouraging.
Isa- You just talked about three of my favorite things to write about. Funny how that works, isn't it?
Style? What style? Me? Style? I just wear what's in my closet.
Pikaf- Oh, wow! I hope you have (or have had) a great time in London! I don't know about Spinner's End, having never been there. I just live in a small city so I know a little bit about that lifestyle. I'm just a silly American.
Fred- Aw, really? Gee thanks.
LastExit- You know what? Seeing your review gave me butterflies in my stomach. Are yours purple too?
Thanks everyone for the lovely reviews. They make quite a wonderful read. And to answer Jynx'sbox question:
W A R N I N G
DH
SPOILERS… kinda
Yes. I adored it.
I loved (.Adored.) chapter thirty-three. I will try to make the fic as cannon as
possible. I will work with the loopholes, but I might be tearing my hair out to
work around stuff. We will see.
This pertains to Tragic, too, to whoever is reading that too.
Ha! I was right about Petunia. You are all my witnesses.
I had this chapter pretty much written before DH. And then I had to go back and change things. Oh well.
PHEW! It's ok you can come out now.
CHAPTER THREE: MIMBLY'S MANJANO
Please do not use magic at the bar.
Thank you,
Manjano's Staff.
A variety of witches and wizards are sitting with their lime-green, magenta and turquoise robes at a large wooden bar. A small statue of Ulric the Oddball keeps on snapping his fingers and winking at people. The bartender is a strange man, who looks somewhat like a spider in a tuxedo. He has eight arms, all of which has five fingers with uncut fingernails, which are doing an assortment of things, two of them shaking up a mixer, one pouring a firewhiskey, and yet another taking the money from a startled witch. The man has a balding head, and a long blond beard that reaches the floor. One of the arms heartily waves to Severus as he walks in. He waves back.
"That's Mimblus Thatcher, the owner. I call him Mimbly. He had a horrible accident a few years back, something with a cat and a transfiguration spell… I wanted to work here but as you can see he has no need for a bartender so…" Severus shrugs.
Behind Mimblus Thatcher's magical eight-arms are paintings with dancing mice, who are playing what looks like a giant game of ring-around-the-rosie. Bottles of glowing liquid surround Mimbly. One the bottles seem to be red and pulsating slightly. A vampire is being poured some of it as Mimbly adds a decorative umbrella with yet another hand.
The presence of all of this magic makes me feel much more at ease. The smell of tomato sauce and wine fills my nostrils. We are about to sit at a purple-velvet booth when a dirty man, with a long, gray beard grabs my arm and leers. His blue eyes bore into mine. "Ah… Aberforth!" I squeak suddenly. "Severus, this is Aberforth Dumbledore."
"The headmasters brother? Pleased to meet you."
Aberforth nods dimwittedly, and smiles showing many gold and silver teeth. His eyes are very similar to Dumbledore's, but his nose is straight and long and his breath smells of dead rats.
"Lily?"
Aberforth communicates somewhat like a troll to me. His one-word growl earns a shake of my head. "No-ooo. She's not here. Severus here was just showing me around town. I've never been here before," I explain.
Severus nods feverishly. But Aberforth continues to leer at Snape and finally says, "Moody?"
"Huh? No, I'm not feeling particularly moody at the moment," says Severus.
"Mad-eye."
"Oh, right, Alastor Moody of the Auror department. What about him?" I ask.
He points.
We both turn, and indeed there is a resounding clunk next to Snape. Alastor Moody's appearance comes as a bit of a shock at first. Severus' eyes are as wide as galleons. Moody places a hand on Severus' shoulder, "So nice to see you again, lads." His normal eye is on me, and his magical one remains fixedly on Severus, who is blushing nervously. Aberforth grins closed-mouthed.
"Severus, this is Alastor Moody. Moody, this is Severus Sn…"
Moody growls, "We've met."
Snape is as white as a sheet.
"Ah! Severus! James! How are you?" Suddenly the welcoming handsome features of Albus Dumbledore are in view. He's wearing lavender robes and a grim-free smile. "We were just discussing some Order business. How about you two join us? Drinks on me." You really can't say no to such a kind, old man.
"I don't know if that's a good idea, Albus," growls Moody, his grip on Snape's shoulder is uncanny.
"Nonsense, Alastor. James and Severus are my students and I want to know how they're doing in the… what's the phrase? The 'real' world."
I laugh. Severus is still squeamish under Moody's magical gaze.
"Drinks?" asks Aberforth in his troll-like way.
"Good idea, Aberforth. Why don't we share a bottle of some of that elf-made wine? 1812. Is that good for everyone?" Aberforth grins. Moody grunts. I nod.
"That's awfully expensive, Headmaster," says Severus.
Albus smiles, his half-moon spectacles glittering in the lamplight. "Perhaps when you are older, you will understand what a pleasure it is to buy a young man drinks and give him your advice." He wraps his arm around his shoulder and steers him towards a checkered-cloth-covered table, pushing Moody's pincer-like grip off of him. Snape is looking slightly green, as if the night that he had planned is completely going haywire. Aberforth grunts to Mimbly, and Moody and I follow the Headmaster and Snape to a table separate from the main room.
But someone is already sitting at the small table, eating a meager portion of spaghetti. Remus Lupin is twirling pasta around on his fork. When he looks up, I shiver as his eyes travel to me and slowly to Snape.
"Hi!" I say, a little to over-exuberantly.
"Hello," he says, sounding like a bay-hound rather than a human.
"What are you doing he…" we both say at once.
"Albus wanted to know how my unemployment was going," Remus says miserably. I already know. Not well. Remus can barely get a job as a waiter. Wizards are prejudiced against werewolves, and muggles don't understand why he has to spend so much time off. He is now working as a garbage boy, unless of course he has lost that job already.
"Well, Snape and I…"
"Excuse me?" Remus cuts me off.
"Snape and I were just…"
"Sorry… can't seem to understand you… say that again…"
"Snape and I…" I grit my teeth.
Moony looks at me, and then at Severus, and then at me. "What are you on about? Are you jinxed?"
"Wha- I… No! I'm not bewitched," I tell him indignantly. Why is he looking at me like that? Like I've misbehaved…
"Ah," says Moony. "Are you bewitched?" He asks Severus.
Severus splays his fingers on his chest and smoothes his tie, as if a bewitchment would be apparent on his shirt. "N-no, I don't think s-so."
Remus looks to the ceiling, rolling his eyes up to the heavens, shakes his head and mutters, "The world has gone mad." He then stabs a meatball.
Severus takes a seat next to Remus, somewhat uncomfortably. I sit across from him. Moody has taken out his magical eye and put it in a glass of water. I pretend to be fixated on it.
"SowutddiggadouwetSnape?" asks Remus with his mouth full.
"Speak English," I say.
He swallows. "So what were you going to say? 'Snape and I were just' what?"
"Oh. We were just…" I hesitate, staring at a fascinating painting of a forever-changing boggart. "Em… getting a bite to eat."
"Getting a bite to eat?" Remus echoes. But his meaning is totally different. I've known my friend for a long time and he doesn't normally repeat things annoyingly unless there's some judgment passing through his mind. I can see the question of as a date? A bite to eat… and then what?
This is very bad. Sirius has just come out to me, he probably hasn't told Remus, and now I know why. I feel it in his look. I'm not gay but if I was… that part of me would shrivel up like a dead flower at the look on his face.
"And where's Lily?" He sounds angry. Maybe he's angry on Lily's behalf. They are friends…
"Not… here?" I say questioningly.
Remus rubs his temple in a very Remusian way. "You know you should spend some time with her. She is your fiancé, you know."
"No she's not," I snort. "She only is if she says 'yes' and she hasn't… so…"
"I actually think it would be better for them to spend some time apart," says Severus suddenly.
Remus blanches, "What?"
"Because… because… you know, marriage is a big deal… and you shouldn't rush these things. I think Lily didn't say yes right away because she's not ready to be with one person for the rest of her life."
I stare at him. He's so brilliant. Remus frowns.
"I didn't ask you," Remus growls. "And even if I did. If Lily wanted to see other people why didn't she just break up with James?"
Snape gives Moony a pitying gaze, "Because she probably still wants to be with him. She doesn't want to break his heart either."
"I really don't think you have the measure of Lily at all."
"I have a better measure of Lily Evans than you might think," Snape says cooly. He sips the wine that was just poured by Aberforth. "We were friends at school. I respected her." I stare at the cuffs of his sleeve without really seeing them.
"You reckon she's cheating on me?" I whisper, a little horrified, but not as appalled as how Remus looks.
"No! No…" He shakes his head. "I didn't say that. I just think she needs time," He give me a light, comforting tap on the arm from across the table, "and space."
The gesture doesn't go unnoticed by Remus' and he glares at Snape's intruding hand. One eyetooth is poking his lip in a threatening way. He opens his mouth to retort but is interrupted by Dumbledore's cough.
"Boys," says the headmaster, "A toast."
I raise my glass clumsily spilling some on the checkered tablecloth. Remus wipes his mouth hastily and lifts his glass. Moody lifts his hipflask and Aberforth has his own shot glass of what looks like whisky.
"May the magical world remain hidden and prosperous. May the students at Hogwarts continue to learn," he nods at Remus, "to invent" he, for some reason, nods at Severus, "and to make a lot of mischief and mayhem as always." I know he's about to nod at me before he does, and I snort. "And may we all randomly meet as often as possible."
"Here," says Aberforth. I don't know if he meant "Here, here!" or just "may we meet often here."
"Aye," says Moody, "and may all the little 'uns be safe at that school of yours."
Remus smiles, "Yes. To opportunity!" He lifts his glass, apparently forgetting to be suspicions for Snape at all of this merriment.
"To friendship!" I bellow, a little more loudly than I intend.
"Severus, would you like to say something?" asks Albus fondly.
My head whirls around to Snape, whose face slackens a bit in shock. He quickly composes himself, tightening his spine and scooting himself forward on his chair. His eyes meet mine; at once I am sucked into inky blackness. "To Freedom," he says. The rest of the Order members whisper "to freedom" and drain their glasses at this. The wine is bitter; it burns the back of my throat. I was never one for red wine.
Albus licks his lips and clasps his wrinkled hands together, "So, Severus. What have you been up to?"
Apparently everyone at the table has been wanting to ask this question. Aberforth, Remus and Moody seem to huddle together as they stare him down.
"Um…" he says, eyeing the crowd from across the table. "Nothing really."
"Now Severus, really, if you were doing nothing you'd be dead."
"Em… just a few odd jobs, here and there. I bartend," he seem to ad this as an afterthought. "I tried to get into the potion's research section of the ministry, but I was told I wasn't qualified." Moody snorted, as if he thought Severus should never be allowed in the ministry.
"You are still very young, of course. Have you thought about becoming an apprentice to Slughorn?"
Snape mumbles something indiscreet, though I think I've caught the words "liked Lily better" and "not his favorite".
"Ah," Albus nods. "But what of the rumor that his reached my ears about your unlikely alias of 'Professor Solomon'?"
Severus blushes crimson, taken aback but smiling. Apparently he didn't expect that. "Oh, ho! You've heard about my little…um… potion shop." Was he shaking from nerves?
Albus raises a white eyebrow, "Shop? Really? I was under the impression that you were brewing potions in your basement..."
"Oh… well… yes… but it is a very large basement…"
Moody is now glaring at him with his one normal eye and his gruesome, gapping hole that had once been his other eye. Even the revolving blue eye in his glass is staring at him. I know that Snape has few scruples, but to be looked at like this, like an ex-con or dark wizard… It unnerves me as I see a list of suspicions forming behind Moody's one real eye. "Not brewing anything illegal are you, Snape?"
He slides towards Dumbledore slightly.
"No, nothing like that. Unless," he ran a finger along the tip of the crystal glass, it rang as he slid his wet finger in circles, "unless of course you count… I gave a muggle child a potion for her mother. She was ill…"
Albus beamed. Moody seemed unconvinced.
"No… draught of living dead? No veritaserum?"
He squirmed as the glass he was playing made a sharp note.
"No felix felicis?"
"I neither possess the talent nor the means to procure a luck potion."
Somehow I remember this name, somewhere in the past. Lily had told me about it… a golden potion that she had won from Slughorn. Of course it would have been hard for him to make it but there is nothing in his poker face that tells me he was either telling the truth or lying.
"I'm helping people," says Snape flatly. "Old witches come to my place for blood-replenishing potions when they can't make them themselves. Poison drinkers come begging for an antidote, children sick with the flu… I make potions."
"Not poisons?" Moody growls.
"Well…" I'm astonished when I see a trickle of sweat run down his neck. It contrasts against his stoic face. "Anything can be a poison if not taken in moderation, Moody, the primary example," he raises his glass of elf-made wine.
I grin, pulling the focus on myself and off of poor Snape, "That's a strange way of thinking about it," I say, and I hastily change the subject, "Do you ever dabble in muggle medicine?"
"Er…" Snape raises an eyebrow at this abrupt, irrelevant subject, "…n-no…"
I sort of think this is a lie… he did go to the Warehouse after all. I'm pretty sure you could call that 'muggle medicine', can't you? I quickly change tact, "What about… em…that-that thing… chemustray, kamistry, keh…"
"Oh…" Severus mouth twitches upwards, "Chemistry?"
"Yes! That's the one. Lily was telling me about it… H-three-oh."
"H2O?"
"Oo! What's that, some kind of muggle poison?"
"It's water."
The other three men chuckle into their glasses.
"Ah, James," said Albus, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes, "There's simply not enough mischief at Hogwarts without you. What are you up to these days? Or are you simply living off of your inheritance, like your father did?"
"Em… no," I blush a little, relieved that we've gotten off the dangerous topic of Snape' basement. "Well…"
I explain to all of them the quirky business that is my employment. I haven't yet secured a spot in the Auror department. "Too young" and "too eager" they call me. It's a load of tosh, really. I passed the exam with far better results that Frank Longbottom. But for some reason, despite my good grades, Moody's referral, my talent and my previous brushes with dark wizards, I have yet to win a desk in the ministry of magic.
"They didn't give you a reason?" Snape interjects, "At all?"
"Not really. They just said I was too young, like I told you."
"That is troublesome," Albus strokes his beard.
"Bastards," says Aberforth.
"Emmmmm…" Moody takes a long drag from his hipflask. "What did you say in the interview? Did anything… shock them?"
I stare at him.
"The thing is, lad… this guy named Rookwood has taken to doing interviews lately, from the department of mysteries. Nice bloke, but, somewhat odd. He's preoccupied with blood purity lately…"
"But I'm pureblood! I'm a descendent of the Peverells!"
"Are you really?" Albus asked, perking up quite unnecessarily.
"Well… yes… but did you mention anything… about… muggles?"
"I told them I would bring muggles to safety rather than obliviate them. I told them…" And I realize then. I sound so stupid to my own ears now. "I told them I would rather not obliviate them if I could help it."
Everyone at the table seems to let out a little sigh. Moody shakes his head slightly and pops his eye back in. Severus is staring at me with a strange mixture of exasperation and respect, much like how one would look at a dare devil or a professional cage fighter.
"Was I wrong?" I whimper.
"No."
Oddly enough, it's Aberforth who's answering me. For the first time he is speaking in long, clear sentences. I'm in so much shock I can barely understand him. "Muggles need to understand things too. They need to know."
Frankly, I have no idea what he's on about. Strange bloke.
Albus gives a drawn out sigh. He pats his brother on the shoulder; a thick velvety sleeve rubs against a leather jacket. He pours Severus more wine. "And… so you're unemployed, then?"
"Well… sort of… you see I've had myself registered with the department, and I've taken the oath. If their ever in a spot they'd yell for me… but in the meantime all I do is try to catch death-eaters and get people out of trouble…"
"You're a bounty-hunter?" Snape voice raises several notches and a smile has split his face.
I smile back. I whisper, "I've never really thought of it that way. That makes me out to be some kind-of hero in a western film."
Suddenly I see the image of myself strolling into a pair of wooden doors, leather boots, a ten-gallon hat, sitting at the bar and ordering bourbon. I'm wearing wire-rimmed specs and there's dust in my hair and my voice. One look in Severus' eyes and I can tell that's exactly what he was imagining too. We both grin and turn away quickly.
"Perhaps you are, I don't know…"
Severus really is a romantic- he speaks of heroes and helping old ladies, of equality and world order, of a war to end all wars and "unconventional love."
I don't understand why I ever thought he was dark.
"Well boys," Albus conjectures abruptly. "We'd better be off. Far past my bedtime… are you coming? Moody? Remus?"
The old man lifts his beard along with pounds of extra purple fabric. "Good to speak with you both," He passes his wrinkly hand to me, then to Severus. "Stay out of trouble, both of you, and enjoy your meal." He leans in close to us so that the rest cannot hear, "And… I am glad that you so enjoy each other's company. Goodness knows people change, don't they?"
A grin, and a swirl of cloak, and he's gone.
A thick silence falls on the two of us. Severus plays with his napkin in his lap, and I wave as our strange greeting party leaves. Remus glances at me from over his shoulder, and the suspiciousness is back in an instant. He frowns so that his lips look like a frog as he is steered out of the door.
Four empty chairs sit across and between us. The noise that had filled the bar has passed like a thundercloud. We meet each other's eyes, but look away quickly. The silence can only be described as awkward.
Severus stands abruptly, "I'll be right back. I'm going to see if Mimbly will give us some food…"
"Spagetti and meatballs?"
"Right…"
He wandered over to the bar. My stomach squirmed as if it had been filled with dead flobberworms. Mimbly shakes his head. I can hear him over the low rumble of the crowd. "Kitchen's closed. Been closed for twenty minutes." Severus looks absolutely crestfallen. If he had a tail and whiskers they would be drooping. He had wanted to take me here for the food, after all, not to be run into by Albus, Aberforth, Moody and Remus. His dark eyes and long face fall on me. "Can't you just whip us something up? Please?"
"Nope. Sorry, son. All of the chefs have gone home. And even though I have eight hands, none of them are any good at cooking."
"Right…" Severus mutters.
"It's ok, we'll just go someplace else, that's all," I tell him.