Author's Note: First of all, I'm so sorry about the long update time. It has taken FOREVER for me to get this chapter done - there was simply so much I needed to do, and it didn't help I had university midterms. Anyways, I apologize again for the delay, and I hope you all like the newest developments... but until next time, read, review, and enjoy!

Severus knew that his chances of getting a job where he lived were slim to none, especially considering the fact that business was quite slow (due to the mill workers being on strike), but he was going to try. He was smart, good with figures, and as hard of a worker as anyone. Hell, he couldn't think of a reason why they wouldn't take him on. At least I'm out trying to get a job, he thought to himself as he shoved his long hair away from his eyes, trying to look more presentable. Most of the other boys my age prefer to either be playing football or smoking up, acting like general hooligans.

He had originally considered getting a job at Diagon Alley, but he knew that the transit costs would cut deeply into any wages he would make. And I'm not that much of a fan of getting up at the crack of dawn to get to work anyways, he thought with a mirthless grin. Nope, a Muggle job it is… oh, what Narcissa and Regulus would say if they saw me now…

He paused in his step as he saw a new store, newly repainted and set between two grimy buildings. His eyes narrowed slightly as he noted the fancy shoes and the lightweight clothing in the display window. A sportswear store…

He took a few steps towards the store, and then he stepped back when he saw the line of customers inside. All of them were big young men, and from the looks of their clothes, they had much more money than he did. Probably some of the athletes from one of the local teams, Severus thought to himself. In a split second, he envisioned himself walking into the store – only to meet snide jeers and laughter.

Not yet, Severus thought, turning away from the store with more than a little disappointment. Later… when I have the money to buy what I need there… and when those brawny idiots have cleared out…

He walked past the general store and gas station, where lines were already forming to get the pitifully small daily allotment of petrol that the station possessed. He also noticed the large number of harassed people shouting at each other both in line and at the pumps. Severus didn't even stop to look closer – he had heard enough yelling at home, he didn't want to deal with it on a daily basis.

He stopped outside the last shop on the street – a grimy, dirt-streaked shop that sat next to an overflowing skip. He wrinkled his nose in disgust, but shoved the door open and approached the counter. The thin man, with a weedy brown mustache and a oil-streaked apron, approached the counter, his eyes glowing at the sight of a customer.

"Is there anything," the man asked, his voice split by a rasp that Severus guessed was rather painful, "that I might do for you today, sir?"

Severus frowned – the man sounded far more educated than he might expect to see in a simple shop. "I'm interested in looking for a job, sir. Are you hiring?"

The man's face fell, and he scratched his chin as he turned away. "What skills do you have?"

"I'm smart, I'm a hard worker, I'm good with figures, and I'm willing to work long hours," Severus said firmly, setting a hand on the dirty counter. "What is it, exactly, that you do here? I couldn't exactly read your sign…"

The man grimaced. "Too damned dirty, I know. Bloody skip gets in the way all the time, and the trucks make a mess all over the place. But to answer your question – I'm a locksmith and part-time chemist."

Explains why he sounds educated. "Part-time chemist?"

The man grimaced again. "My father left me the locksmith business, and I can't afford the truly good, high molarity chemicals for a proper lab, so I work as a locksmith full-time and only take on chemistry jobs on the side – and only on special request. And with business so damned slow, there's not a lot of requests."

Potions are relatively close to chemistry, Severus thought quickly. More similar, actually, than most people realize… "Would you be interested in hiring an assistant? Perhaps one that could help you in the chemistry lab?"

The man grinned weakly. "If times were better, boy, you don't know how quickly I'd take you up on that offer. But now…" He gestured towards the greasy windows and dirty shop. "I can barely afford to feed my family as it is. What's your name, son?"

"Severus Snape," he replied, trying to keep the disappointment out his voice.

"I'll tell you what, Severus," the man said, leaning close. "You seem like a good chap, so if things ever pick up at all, I might be willing to take you on. Not for much, mind you, but at least you'd have a job."

Severus sighed. "Thanks for the offer," he muttered, turning towards the door and shoving it open. "Although," he added, "you might get more business if people could see through your windows or could read your sign."

The man's weak smile vanished, replaced by a scowl. "You think I have time to clean my shop every day? I have a family to look after. Now go away – I have work to do anyways." The locksmith turned away and went back to his work, leaving Severus to close the door with disappointment.

As a curiosity, he wiped away the thin patina of grease that covered the name embossed on the glass window. "Mr. Reuben Piper," he read to himself, wiping the grease off his hand on one of the cleaner brick walls of the shop. I'll remember that name.

The next two stores he had visited – a small doctor's clinic and an even smaller butchery – gave Severus the same answer as the locksmith had. Frustrated and dejected, Severus approached the fourth store with a considerable degree of trepidation. The store, like the locksmith's, was rather dirty and grimy, but the sign was very visible, emblazoned in bright white letters on a black sign. A pawn shop, Severus thought with a sinking feeling. How low can I go?

Nevertheless, he swallowed hard, clenched his fist in resolve, and shoved the door open.

The shop was exactly how Severus imagined a pawn shop would look like: rather like Borgin & Burkes, with numerous assorted objects scattered throughout the room, and a long battered counter spanning the store, with several heavy ledgers and cases mounted securely to the wood. A cheap cash register rested against edge of the counter, and behind it stood a corpulent man who Severus immediately guessed was the owner of the shop.

"How can I help you today, sir?" the man asked, a bored note in his voice. "Exchange or retrieval?"

"Neither," Severus replied cautiously, approaching the counter slowly. The man, with wide-set blue eyes, a lined crease of a mouth, and extremely thick neck, reminded Severus very much of Horace Slughorn – but there was little jovialness in his demeanor. Instead, there was a cold shrewdness and intellect in the man's face that made Severus feel very uneasy looking at him. His grey hair, which seemed pasted flat to his wide head, glinted ominously in the dim light of the store.

"So what do you want, then?" the man asked, his voice deep, but still having a twang of obnoxiousness in it. "I'm not in a charitable mood right now."

I should probably cut the chase, Severus thought quickly, because I don't think this fellow is especially patient. "I want a job."

"So do a lot of people."

"No, I want a job here," Severus said, rapping his knuckles on the counter. "Are you hiring?"

"What makes you worth hiring?" the man asked sharply.

"I'm a hard worker, I'm smart, I'm good with figures –"

"Only the last matters significantly in this business," the man cut him off smoothly, a peculiar glint in his eye. "What really matters is if you are quick-thinking, and able to judge the intentions of those who cross through that door. It's a fine art to be able to get the best possible bargains in both exchange and retrieval. Can you think on your feet, young man?"

Severus smiled mirthlessly. "Perhaps. Give me a scenario."

The glint in the man's eyes seemed to intensify as he leaned forward, his thick fingers spreading like roots across the counter. "A man comes in, looking to retrieve his pawned item, only to discover," he added with a wide smirk, "that said item is no longer in the vicinity of the store. The man appears rather dangerous. What would you do?"

Hex him out of the store and explain to the Ministry later why I did it, Severus thought privately. But he had a different answer. "I'd bargain, sir, if I could. Show him something similar of equal or greater value, and sell it to him at a premium. People always want to purchase something, so even if he is being ripped off, he will be more inclined to take the proffered sale and leave."

"And if he refuses to bargain?" the corpulent man asked, his grin getting disturbingly wider ever second.

Severus shrugged. "Bait and switch, then. I'd tell him the, ah, new owner of his requested item, which will subsequently direct his attention to that person. He has no quarrel with me, so it is quite an adequate distraction. And people will believe what they want to believe." Besides, I used the same damned tactic at Hogwarts when I wanted to shift the blame for my tricks on Rosier and those other fools onto Potter and his bloody gang of Marauders. I know it works – rather well, actually.

The corpulent man chuckled lightly. "Boy, have you ever done this before? That's sound thinking… of course, your figures still have to be up to scratch. Eighty percent of sixty?"

"Forty-eight," Severus replied smoothly.

"Fifteen percent of one-hundred-fifty."

"Twenty-two fifty," Severus replied, almost unconsciously. I never thought I'd think this, but all those damned figures Father hammered into my skull and those cursed Arithmancy sums actually came in handy.

The corpulent man stared at Severus for a few seconds, and Severus could tell that he was trying to work out all of the numbers in his head. Finally, the man cracked a wide smile, showing yellowed, crooked teeth – much like Severus' had been. "My boy, I believe you're hired. The name's Gerald Rinston, but I prefer to go by 'sir' – and I always go by sir when there's a customer in the shop."

"Not a problem," Severus replied smoothly. "Hours?"

Mr. Rinston grinned widely. "Be here by eleven in the morning and I'll give you ten to twelve hours. Pawn shops work late, as most of our, ah, customers, prefer to remain in the shadows. Wear professional clothes – what you've got on is passable – and I'd advise you carry a knife with you at all times. Pawn shops do tend to get held up on a regular basis, and although a knife won't do much against a gun, it tends to dissuade some of the small-time thugs. Though," the man added with a smirk, "most people know better than to rob my shop. You'll get paid in the end of two weeks, and depending on how well you do, you might be in for a bonus."

I doubt that, but it's interesting that you're offering… what are your intentions for me, Mr. Rinston? Severus thought. "Do you wish for me to start today?"

"Ah, not today, boy," Rinston replied with an airy wave of his hand. "We won't get business that I can't handle, and we have a few customers that will require, ahem, expert attention. I'll be handling those deals." The man opened the register and pulled a wrinkled pound note out. He handed it to an astonished Severus. "Go down to the pub and celebrate your new job – isn't that what young men like you do?"

"I couldn't possibly take this –" Severus stammered, but Rinston cut him off with a sharp, irritated motion of his hand.

"It's not a problem, boy. I'm getting an asset to my business, and trust me," the man added with a wink, "I'll be making my due out of your hide anyways. Now, off with you… what's your name?"

"Snape," Severus replied, tucking the pound carefully into his pocket next to his wand. "Severus Snape."

"Old Tobias' boy?" Rinston asked shrewdly. "I've seen your father in here a few times. Good man, he was."

"Not anymore," Severus spat before he could restrain himself, but to his surprise, Rinston nodded grimly.

"When a man must pawn his wedding ring, you know he's in dire straits indeed."

Father pawned his wedding ring? Severus thought with shock. How dare he do that to Mother? Things couldn't have been that bad… "Out of curiosity, how much did you give him?" he asked.

Rinston's wide eyes narrowed. "You never mix family and business, Snape, and thus I'm not going to tell you how much I paid him. It was adequate, and it was fair."

Severus suddenly felt a rise of hatred towards his new boss, but he swallowed it back with a curt nod. "Thank you, sir, for giving me a job and for the money. I'll be back tomorrow for work."

"Good." Rinston pointed a fat finger towards the register. "You'll be working the counter tomorrow, and any transactions get referred to the manual." He pointed a thick ledger set behind the counter. "All the values you need are in there. Any appraisals or anything that's over a hundred pounds, I deal with. Understand?"

"Yes sir. Good day." And with that, Severus pushed the door open and staggered out of the shop, a sick feeling of rage, relief, and dejection filling his gut as it began to drizzle again.


"So?" his father asked as Severus wrenched open the door of Spinner's End. Severus wrinkled his nose as he entered the kitchen. His father, from the looks of the table, was doing family finances, and ledgers were strewn all around the table – along with several large bottles of beer.

"So what?" Severus replied as he pulled a clean towel from the closet and began drying his hair – the drizzle had inflated into a full-fledged downpour on his way home.

"Did ye get a job?" Tobias asked with narrowed eyes.

Severus debated privately whether to add a sarcastic comment, but judging the numbers not to be going well by the haggard and frustrated look on his father's face, he thought otherwise. "Yes, I did."

His father grunted and turned back to his ledgers. "Good. Now, ye've never really been a drain to the family, or else I'd be makin' ye pay yer rent, but mind that yer mother and me won't be givin' you any breaks any time soon. Yer a workin' man now, and that means ye're on yer own."

"I'd be willing to contribute…" Severus began, but at the mingled look of frustration and anger on his father's face, he let his comment die. Tobias Snape, despite everything, is independent, and he won't take any charity – even from his own son.

"What do ye plan to do with yer money?" his father asked instead.

Severus shrugged. "Things for school, probably. Likely some new clothes too." It's not like I'm going to tell you my plans, Father. You wouldn't understand… He moved towards the stairs, and turned back towards his father, who was, once again, bent over the ledgers in front of him. He noticed, for the first time, the lack of a wedding ring around his finger. Best just to ignore it, he thought, although knowing Father, it's probably not that much of a sore issue...

"Ye staring at something, boy?"

Severus turned away. "I'll be late tomorrow night – tell Mother not to bother with dinner for me." And with that, he headed back upstairs, his hands clenched tight into fists.


Summer that year seemed to fall into the usual dry routine for Severus – and if anything, it was worse than normal. He would rise early, do as much reading as he could, and then head off to work. When the day was over, he had little energy to do anything but sleep.

His father still hadn't gotten back to work, and the strike was dragging on. Severus began to see food banks open along the road he walked to work, and he always winced as he saw the growing lines. Times are getting tough, especially with the mill workers on strike. Why the hell won't they just go back to work? Can't they tell things are getting this bad?

His father seemed to be of a like mind with Severus on this, and the few breakfasts that he did share with the family were always sullen, frustrated affairs where a hung-over Tobias ranted about the latest problems with the union.

"The company's gotta cave at some point," he said one morning with frustration, tossing the paper down with disgust. "That, or the union caves."

"Either way, we'll have more food on the table," Eileen snapped, rubbing her temple, as if she was already nursing a headache. "It's the middle of July, for God's sake. We need to do something – can't you tell them just to compromise?"

"Eileen, I've told 'em a dozen times," Tobias snarled. "I can' do anything 'bout it, and ye know that the union barely listens to me as it is. Sooner or later, things'll get better. They always do…"

Severus shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was getting his first paycheck that day – and from what Mr. Rinston had told him, he was in for a decent bonus too. Frankly, I'm surprised Father hasn't asked me to contribute yet…

"So I'm off, then," Tobias finished abruptly, sliding his chair back and reaching for his coat. "I need ter meet with the union – they're gonna give me answers this time."

His mother quietly snorted under her breath, but Severus wasn't so sure that his father wouldn't succeed in his endeavors. He certainly looks determined… wonder what's driving him now…

Without another word, his father slid out. His mother, muttering about her own job, followed, leaving Severus alone in the house. Out of habit, Severus reached for the Muggle paper, curious about whether he might see signs that the Death Eaters were active again…

"Severus?"

He whirled quickly, his wand in his hand, his eyes fixed on the head that had suddenly materialized out of his fireplace.

Regulus gave a warm smile. "It's good that you can acknowledge my existence."

"It's even better that my blasted father's not home, otherwise you'd be missing both your eyes!" Severus snarled, leaning close to the fire. "What the devil are you doing in my fire, Regulus?"

"I wanted to talk… ask you how your little 'list' is going, and give you the update on the recent news," Regulus replied, a bit off-put by Severus' bad temper.

"Narcissa has still been giving me the news," Severus said curtly.

"Not enough of it," Regulus replied icily, "and she hasn't even heard about the stuff I'm talking about."

Severus frowned. What does Regulus know that he thinks is so important? "What has come up?"

"I got two letters recently – one yesterday, and one today – and I figured that you really need to know about this." Regulus looked very serious. "This could impact Hogwarts as we know it."

Severus snorted. "Quit with the melodrama, Black. Nothing at that school will change as long as Dumbledore is there. Despite all his lunacy, he does run things very smoothly."

"I wonder, then, if we know the same Dumbledore," Regulus replied, gritting his teeth. "I'll get to him later, but first you need to know about the important issue: Sirius."

Severus gave an exasperated sigh. "For the last time, Regulus, I don't give a damn what the hell the blasted fool is doing! I know he's your brother, but any of the arrangements with getting him out of the marriage was strictly done as a favour to you, not him!"

"I know that," Regulus said with a tired shake of his head. "If anything, he should be more grateful to you, but we both know that's not happening anytime soon. In any case, I got a letter from him yesterday, and I think you deserve to know that you're mentioned."

"What does Sirius Black want with me?" Severus snarled, trying to keep the incredulous surprise out of his voice. "The blasted fool tried to kill me last year! I was civil when I refrained from bringing it up earlier, but I have no interest in getting involved in any torrid affair that he wants to drag me into."

Regulus, surprisingly, gave a weak grin. "'Torrid affair', you say? Yeah, that's probably apt terms for this mess."

"Enough vagueness, Regulus. Explain yourself."

Regulus sighed. "This is going to sound confusing and twisted, but you have to remember the context of the issue."

"I'm waiting."

"Sirius has been corresponding with Evan Rosier."

Severus' mouth fell open. "Excuse me?"

"Yeah, I know. Never would have guessed it…"

"But what about?" Severus asked with confusion, kneeling closer to the fire. "What do those two have in common?"

Regulus gave Severus an expectant look. "Think it through."

"Don't tell they're –"

"No!" Regulus said sharply, his face going crimson. "Nothing like that. Just think – what do those two have in common?"

Severus put his head in his hand. "The only thing I can think of is shagging."

"Pervert."

"Not that, Black! With girls."

"You're right," Black said grimly. "That is the only thing they have in common – hell, between the two of them, they've probably screwed the entire year minus Lily Evans and Narcissa!"

"I don't need mental images, Black, please continue to your point."

"Anyway, at the Malfoy dinner, those two were sitting at the same table, and they got to sniping at each other, and with typically bravado, they made a bet that I've only just found out about." Regulus looked disgusted. "Rosier bet that he could make out with more girls than my beloved brother in a term, and – of course – Sirius felt he had to respond to this damned challenge – so, he agreed to the bet."

Severus shook his head. "This is going to be bad."

"It gets worse. Sirius and Rosier have even devised a point scale to calculate their 'conquests'," Regulus shook his head with disgusted anger. "Want to know?"

"Not particularly, but how does this involve me?"

Regulus winced. "This is the nastiest bit. At the end of the term – Christmas, which will be bad enough this year with Dumbledore's plan – the two will meet and tally their points. The one with the least points has to drink a specially prepared draught of Polyjuice Potion that will transfigure him into a girl and then… look, do I need to go into anymore details?"

Severus chuckled. "That's sick. I can't see why those two are even trying this! What is this specially prepared draught consisting of, anyways?"

"Rosier found a book in his manor library describing it, and he was hoping that you'd brew the batch for the bet. He's willing to pay you a hundred Galleons for it."

Severus gave a disgusted snort. A lot of money, to be sure, but there are certain lines even I will not cross. "I won't do this. This is wrong, Regulus."

"And since when do you care?" Regulus snapped, but the nervous look betrayed his intent. "Look, I don't like this as much as anyone – it's sick and twisted, and I can't believe my own brother is doing it – but at least, in the end, it might, ah, curb them for a bit. Maybe convince them to see the error in their ways."

"I doubt that."

Regulus took a deep breath. "Severus, I want you to do this for me."

Severus gave Regulus an amused look. "And here I thought you were disgusted."

"I am, but can't you see what things at Hogwarts are going to be like for me this year?" Regulus said, incensed. "Sirius already knows there's something between the two of us, and he hates you. He's only coming to you because you're the best potions student in the school, and he's willing to cut a reasonable deal. If you go back on this… well, my life's already going to be a living hell this year as it is."

At that point, Severus was on the verge of telling Regulus he didn't care, but then a new thought struck him. It could prove prudent to help Regulus here… it wouldn't be a problem for you if you did, and you could potentially gain more of his loyalty. Furthermore, if I am the one brewing the potion, I can also institute… safeguards into the process, to ensure that certain people are protected…

"Well?"

"Tell your brother that I'll only agree to this deal on two conditions," Severus said slowly, glancing up at an anxious Regulus with a steely look in his eyes. "Firstly, Narcissa Black and Lily Evans are to remain sacrosanct – neither of the boys is to touch them."

"That won't stop Rosier," Regulus muttered.

"I know, but it will stop Black. The second condition is that my name is kept completely out of this – I will not be a visible party to this debauchery, and I am only doing this because I would like to see one of those two curb their rampant shagging across Hogwarts." Severus pressed his hands against his knees as he leaned closer towards Regulus. "Do we have a deal?"

"I'll tell Sirius… but likely your answer is yes," Regulus said quietly. "And now for this second thing – in my opinion, the more important one. Do you remember Dumbledore's speech at the end of last year?"

"Not especially," Severus replied, curious why on earth Regulus gave a damn. "He said something about 'big changes' happening this upcoming year. Why?"

Regulus huffed. "Well, Dumbledore went to the school governors over the holiday and they had a formal conference. My father is one of the governors and he heard the whole thing. Turns out Dumbledore is concerned about the 'rising interest in the Death Eaters' and the 'general lack of Muggle knowledge in our society'."

Severus snorted. "I'd agree with the old man on both – he should be concerned with the likes of Rosier still at Hogwarts. The bloody ass is a menace." He didn't add that his name would have been on that list if not for his own decisions. "So what does Dumbledore want to do about it?"

"Well, the Headmaster apparently has unveiled a plan – and it's got the support of some of the major players in the Ministry – that certain 'Muggle proceedings' be allowed in Hogwarts. Dumbledore called it 'social integration', but to most of the pureblood governors, it seemed like outright betrayal."

Severus sighed. "What does Dumbledore want now?"

"He wants something he calls 'Casual Fridays', where students are allowed to wear Muggle clothing to classes instead of robes, and he also wants monthly 'social activities'."

Severus snorted again, this time with mild surprise. Who expected the old coot to be this modern? "Social activities? Like dances and such?"

"With Muggle music," Regulus growled. "Suffice to say, he had plenty of opposition, but from the looks of things, his little reforms are going to go right through."

"And what are his justifications for such reforms? Doesn't he realize this will antagonize nearly every pureblood family in Britain, not to mention the Dark Lord?"

"I really don't think Dumbledore cares," Regulus said with a hint of a grin. "Despite the blood treachery of the whole deal, you've got to admire the political maneuvering. With the recent Death Eater activity, the Ministry's been getting paranoid, especially with Crouch in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Any sort of 'Muggle integration' that could dissuade students from becoming the Dark Lord's followers is gold to the Ministry right now. And Dumbledore capitalized on that."

"The man's a bloody anarchist," Severus remarked with disgust. "So how's your father taking this?"

"He's ruddy livid," Regulus replied darkly. "They're going to appeal, but I doubt that it'll work this time. Dumbledore's got more free reign than he's had in decades, and rumor has it he's even hiring a fashion consultant who can help people dress more like Muggles for the casual Fridays! Can you believe that? A Hogwarts fashion consultant!"

"Pay must be good," Severus remarked wryly. "It's not like it's going to stop Rosier, but I have no problems with any attempts to curb the wizarding world's woeful ignorance of Muggle society – after all, they outnumber us a good ten thousand to one."

Regulus sighed. "You're right – obviously – but I still don't like this. Potter and the rest of his damned Marauders are going to lord this over us, you know. This is a victory for them."

Severus shrugged. It could be a victory for me too, if I play my cards right… after all, I'm one of the few Slytherins who know a bit about Muggle dress and culture. "Is that all, Regulus?"

"Yeah," Regulus replied uncomfortably. "It's still tense back on my end, though. Sirius' departure… hasn't been clean."

Severus turned away. "That isn't my concern, Regulus. It's yours – I can't handle this problem for you."

"Thanks for the support, Snape."

"You're welcome," Severus replied. "Just one last thing – how the hell did you contact me? I thought my mother disabled the Floo connection."

Regulus grinned weakly. "There are benefits of being a Black, Snape." And with that, Regulus descended back into the flames, leaving Severus alone with his thoughts.


"Closing up early today, Mr. Snape," Rinston said coolly, coming out from the back room. "I've got an important meeting with some clients this evening, and it's going to be in the shop."

Severus sighed as he set down the ledger he was writing in on the counter. "So no hours tonight, then?"

Rinston chuckled lightly, a noise that still disturbed Severus. "You think so little of me, Snape." Flipping open a securely locked door, the rotund man counted off a fair number of bills and passed them to an astounded Severus. "Here's your biweekly pay, and here," he added with a wink, "is a little extra bonus to compensate for tonight."

Severus' eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hair. Must be really important, if he's paying me to stop working. Wonder who's that important… "Thank you, sir."

Rinston shrugged. "Ah, don't sweat it, Snape. Best to be heading off, then. Go buy yourself something nice." And with a quick flapping motion of his hand, he chivied a surprised Severus right out of the door, which he slammed shut right behind him.

Severus sighed with mild exasperation as he quickly flicked the 'OPEN' sign over to 'CLOSED'. Buy myself something nice, he thought to himself. Well, with the amount that he gave me… I could probably afford a decent pair of shoes and running clothes… I should really check to see if that sportswear shop is still open…

He walked past the general store and the petrol pumps and headed towards the brightly lit shop, his hands clenched into nervous fists. Thankfully, to his view, the store looked nearly deserted.

He slowly slid the door open and moved towards the racks displaying footwear. His eyes widened as he beheld the Muggle shoes – nothing like had ever been able to afford before.

"Looking for something, sir?" a light voice said from behind him. Severus whirled in surprise to see a salesgirl casually lounging against a rack of sweat pants. To his surprise, she looked about Severus' age. Then again, I'm not surprised that she's working here. With all the boys around…

"Yes," Severus replied, turning back to the shoes. "I'm looking for a pair of running shoes for a good price, but of good quality."

The girl pursed her thin lips and ran a hand through her dark-brown hair – unkempt even for Severus' standards. "Do you know what size your feet are, 'cause that can help."

Severus frowned with confusion – wizard sizes were surely different than Muggle sizing, but the girl took his silence as a negative, and was already pulling boxes off the wall. "Doesn't matter, really. We'll just try on a bunch until you get the right size."

"Trial and error," Severus remarked dryly. "How… efficient."

"Do you have a better idea?" the girl snapped with exasperation as she tossed down another box. "It's not like I have anything better to do. Hell, it's not like we're busy here."

"That's strange," Severus mused, more to himself, "because every time I walk by, this store seems busy."

The girl gave him a skeptical look. "Yeah, sure. A group of idiots hanging around an athletic store simply because they've got nothing better to do, and flirting with me because I'm a girl… just not the type they're used to," she added under her breath.

Severus cocked an eyebrow at this. Hmm… looks like somebody doesn't like the attention. I'm not surprised she's getting it, though. She doesn't have a great body like Narcissa does, but she does have attractive curves, and she's not overweight in the slightest.

The girl flipped open a box and pointed towards the bench with irritation. "Well, what are you waiting for? Sit down, the store closes in a few minutes!"

"Somebody's in a hurry," Severus noted lightly as he sat down.

The girl's shoulders slumped. "Yeah, sure. What's to hurry to in this godforsaken city? I'm closing up, anyways…" She shoved a shoe in his hands. "Try it on."

Severus yanked off his shoes and began trying on the pairs that the girl was giving him. As Severus was lacing up the newest pair she was giving him, she leaned against a clothing rack. "You ain't from around here, are you?"

"Why would you say that?" Severus asked distractedly, standing and shaking his foot. Too loose. Damn my narrow feet to hell.

She shrugged. "I go to the local school, and I haven't seen you there. It's not that big. You go to some uppity private school?"

Severus snorted. If only you knew. "Not… exactly."

"You're not the athletic type either," the girl said coolly, shaking out her hair again.

"And how would you know?" Severus retorted.

"Oh, I don't know, because I work at an athletic's store and I'm athletic myself?" the girl snapped. "I have an eye for these things, you know!"

"You're into sports?" Severus asked, trying to keep the conversation as civil as possible around the hot-tempered girl.

The girl's hands clenched into fists. "Yeah. And I came here expecting to get a job where I might learn something new about sports! Instead I just clean up the rubbish and deal with morons who have nothing better to do." She looked away. "You being here is almost refreshing. Not the same damned boys who come in."

"I'm flattered," Severus replied caustically as he tossed another pair of shoes away.

"Oh, you're certainly a great conversationalist," the girl spat. "Geez, I'm only trying to help."

Severus took a restraining breath. "I appreciate that. I'm just frustrated about these shoes. Don't you have anything that fit in this store?"

The girl held up her hands. "Hey, don't blame me because your feet are in a weird shape."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Severus replied with disgust.

"You're welcome," the girl shot back, pulling down yet another box. "Here, try these. They're last seasons' Reebok, and they might fit…"

Severus slid the shoes on, expecting them to fit badly. To his great surprise, however, the shoes actually fit well on his feet. He took a few cautionary steps and rolled his ankles to test how the shoe fit on his foot. Wow… actually a good fit.

"I think," Severus said slowly, "that I might go with these."

"Wonderful," the girl said as she affected a bored stance. "Now would you like bed and breakfast with everything?"

"I'll pass, but I wouldn't mind a few pairs of shorts, some good socks, and a few light shirts," Severus replied, shoving the shoes in their dusty box. "I assume you sell those?"

"Great guess," the girl replied caustically, but she moved between the racks and pulled out a pile of clothing. "Will this do?"

"Was it what I asked for?"

"What does it look like?"

"Are you trying to be difficult?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"For god's sake, why?"

"Boredom and spite, mostly," the girl replied with a grin, tossing the clothes to a startled Severus. "Now, if you'd proceed to the counter, you could pay for all of this and I could get the hell out of here after I close up."

Severus sighed with exasperation as he dumped his new clothes and shoes on the counter. "You could try being more congenial to customers, you know," he said with disgust as he counted out bills.

"You're right, I could," the girl replied as she totaled up the purchase. "But that wouldn't be nearly as entertaining. Still," she added with a hint of a smirk, "you're at least tolerable."

"What's your name?" Severus asked as he passed a large wad of money to the girl. "I like to know who I'm irritating."

The girl smirked – this time for real – and slid the bag with his purchases across to him. "Roxanne," she replied coolly. "And don't get any ideas about asking for my number – I know how these routines go, and I'm not interested."

"Not interested," Severus replied, a bit of relief in his voice. At least she didn't throw me out… and what's wrong with having a good Muggle contact? It could help later on…

"Who are you, anyway?" Roxanne called as Severus opened the door.

"You care?" Severus asked incredulously.

"I'm just curious about who I'm pestering," she replied innocently.

Severus snorted. "The name's Severus."

"What kind of name is that?"

"What kind of name is Roxanne?"

The girl only glared at him as Severus closed the door, a thin smile crossing his lips.


The next morning, Severus was up before dawn.

He pulled on his new shorts, t-shirt, and shoes in the cover of darkness, trying to make as little noise as possible. His father was a heavy sleeper, but he was vicious if woken unexpectedly. The last thing I need is a beating before I even get out of the house.

Quietly sliding down the stairs, he pulled the front door open as quietly as he could – cursing the swollen wood that made it stick in the frame – and slid out. Locking the door with a swift twist of his key, he turned back towards the road, and, taking a deep breath, he began to run.

He didn't make it far. Before he made it down to the end of the street, he slowed his gait to catch his breath. Damn, I'm really out of shape…

The image of a sneering James Potter came to mind, and Severus resumed his brisk run, his hands clenched into tight fists. I'm not giving up… I'm going to do this…

But only a few minutes later he doubled over, wheezing and coughing, cursing his poor fitness with every step. This is terrible, he thought, hating his body with every ounce of his being. Why can't I be stronger? I'm better than this!

He started running again, keeping it fairly slow so he wouldn't have to stop again. But like clockwork, about five minutes later, he stopped again, clutching the stitch in his chest. I'm gonna die… my heart's on fire…

He closed his eyes, and tensing his muscles, he started running once again, his eyes focused on Spinner's End, just at the end of the street. I'm gonna make it. I'm gonna make it. I'm gonna make it…

Like a mantra, he focused with his remaining strength on the house, and ran straight for it, his shoes pounding heavily on the pavement. Finally, his sneakers dragging roughly on the ground, he staggered up to the door and pulled it open… only to collapse on the doormat.

Hot sweat was running into his eyes, and Severus could feel the saltiness sting. He could feel the bile rising in his throat, but he forced it back. I'm not going to puke, he thought, as he crawled towards a chair and used it to force himself to his feet. He nearly fell again – his legs gave out from under him – but he managed to stay on his feet.

"I've gotta stretch…" Severus muttered, as he struggled up the stairs and staggered into his room. Pulling an exercise book open that he had stolen from his father's old cabinet, he began to stretch his legs, sweating and swearing with every motion.

After several agonizing minutes, he relaxed slightly, knowing the truly great trial was just ahead. Flipping the pages to the very beginning, he saw a Muggle photograph of a man on his hands and toes, slowly lowering himself towards the ground. The pages labeled it a 'push-up' and Severus was determined to try it.

Awkwardly lowering himself into position on his hands and knees, he took a deep breath. Then, closing his eyes against the coming pain, he raised his knees off the floor and began to dip towards the ground, his thin arms shaking all the way down…

Clenching his teeth, he slowly raised himself back up again, and shook the sweat away from his eyes. His greasy hair hung all over his face, and Severus could see sweat running down the strands…

"Yer doing it wrong."

The voice cut through the room, and Severus nearly collapsed in shock and surprise. He glanced up at the last person he expected – or wanted – to see.

Tobias Snape only shook his head, a strangely unreadable expression on his face as he closed the door behind him.