Chapter Two S.O.
Severus ate the delicious breakfast that Nobby had prepared for him. It had taken some convincing on his part to talk the Elf into returning to his own family and friends, and he did so only after Severus had promised him, hand over heart, that he would summon Nobby if he had but the slightest need for assistance.
"Its time for me to try my hand at becoming self sufficient, Nobby, and at the same time you have decisions to make about your own life, now that you are a Free Elf."
Even so, once the Elf had cracked out of the cottage, Severus noticed that his belongings had all been unpacked, the cupboards and pantry filled with a variety of food and drink, and every bit of dust and grime meticulously washed and swept away. Even the windows sparkled in the early morning sunlight, and as Snape sat and sipped his first cup of tea, he could clearly observe the sandpipers that ran in groups toward the surf to pick out their early meal, scrambling quickly back as a wave approached.
He saw her immediately and his heart quickened. As her back was turned to him, he only recognized her from the red hair pulled up in a knot as she ran along the white sandy beach, but he clearly remembered the close up of her milky complexion and emerald eyes from the view that Nobby had given him before he had collapsed into a deep sleep.
And what will you say to your new neighbor when you meet? he wondered. "Hello, so pleased to finally make your acquaintance. I am a Wizard who has fought the Dark Lord for most of my life and taught the brewing of magic potions to young Wizards and Witches at the Hogwarts School of Wizardry. I could entertain you with some magic spells if you'd like."
He smirked at the thought of any encounter, let alone this preposterous scenario, and with a shrug, pushed her out of his mind. Snape was not entirely without knowledge of Muggledom, having been brought up with his feet in both worlds at an early age, but that had been many years ago, much water under the bridge. He wanted change, longed for a different life, dreamed of a simpler future where wars and dark magic did not exist, but the fact remained that he was and always would be a Wizard. Could he make a more pleasant life for himself outside of the walls of Hogwarts, outside of the company of 'his own kind'?
So, tell me Professor, what exactly is the plan? he asked himself, watching as the form of the girl running on the sand disappeared into the distance. Apply for a position at the local post office? Sell Muggle automobiles? Paint sea shells and hawk them to the tourists? He suddenly had a picture in his mind of some of the local peddlers on the beach, bare chested in sandals and short pants, despite the chilly autumn weather, and the vision made him shudder. His search for a simpler life would not include the elimination of all decorum. Although, he did concede that he would require clothing that was more suitable for his new environment.
Snape opened the newspaper that Nobby had left on the dining room table. It was quite flat and bland to his eyes. None of the pictures moved, but that section wasn't of interest to him. As he turned the pages, his eyes fell on the smaller print on the next to last page.
Classified: Jobs.
Ah, yes. There it was.
Severus picked up the pencil that he had removed from his briefcase and started to read. Soon he had eliminated most of them with a bold X through the print until one caption caught his eye:
Assistant to Pharmacist; Must have prior pharmaceutical knowledge.
Potions were his specialty, and even though in his world he had dealt mostly with herbs of an unknown variety to Muggles, he was learned of all medicines, for that had been a part of his studies before achieving his degree as Potion's Master.
He circled the ad and wrote down the name of the shop. Perhaps he would visit them that very day, and include a trip to the nearest clothing shop as well.
The small chemist's shop appeared to be perfectly suited for the village that housed only a few hundred inhabitants. As he entered, his educated nose picked up the odors of some of the more corrosive pharmaceutical ingredients, followed by the pleasant fragrance of familiar herbs and tinctures. He had dressed in dark trousers and a plain white shirt and pulled back his hair in an elastic band, hoping that his appearance was quite neutral for his first encounter with the local pharmacist.
A small man with white wiry hair greeted him in a friendly manner at the counter. "How may I be of assistance?"
Snape assumed that the man considered him a tourist since he eyed the tall Wizard with curiosity, a sure sign that he was completely familiar with all of the local faces in the town.
"I'm hoping that I might be of assistance to you," Snape said, his voice smooth and pleasant. "I would like to apply for the position listed in the daily paper."
The elderly pharmacist scratched the side of his nose, bumping his glasses a bit. "My, my. I didn't honestly think that the ad would elicit even a jingle," he stared at the younger man. "No one in this town has the credentials to assist me with filling the prescriptions. I merely posted it on a wish and a prayer. Quite frankly, I'm getting old and tired and a helping hand would be very welcome, but as I said… "
"I don't hold a license because my education and experience is mostly in the area of … holistic healing," Severus chose his words carefully, "but in my studies, I was required to have full knowledge of all of the pharmaceutical medicines, as well as dosage and side effects. I believe that I would be qualified to assist you."
The pharmacist eyed him closely. "Holistic? Interesting, very interesting. I have a great deal of respect for this branch of medicine, even though it is often scoffed at by some of our learned colleagues. But I feel that there is a great deal that we don't yet know about the benefits of natural herbs and potions."
If you only knew the half of it, Snape thought, but did not verbalize. "Then may I assume that you would be willing to accept my application?"
They spoke for another twenty minutes, each measuring the other in the course of the conversation. At the end of their talk, the pharmacist reached his hand out to the tall man and congratulated him on his new position. "Mr. Snape, your knowledge far exceeds my requirements. When could you start?"
Severus unlocked the door of the cottage with the brass key, resisting the temptation to simply speak an incantation. He wasn't hesitant to use magic, but he wanted to be careful outside of his own four walls, not wishing to raise any eyebrows from nosy neighbors. He remembered from childhood days the house that lined his own in Spinners End and the nosy woman who spent most of her time standing at the window, spying on whatever activities were taking place in the homes around her It was a well known neighborhood fact that she carried a spy glass from window to window so as not to miss the slightest detail. Snape had once cast a simple spell that had covered the eyepiece of the glass with indelible black ink, causing the neighborhood children to forever after refer to her as "the raccoon lady".
He laid the packages from the clothing store on his table and snapped the teapot to a boil.
It had been a good day, a productive day. His new job was certainly do-able, a way to keep busy with the things that he most enjoyed, and would not involve endless hours of repetitive classroom teaching to disinterested teenagers. No one had given him a second glance in the shops that he had entered, and best yet, there had been no curses or hexes aimed in his direction. His stomach was slowly starting to unknot and he looked forward to the nice Earl Grey that Dobby had stocked in his cupboard.
The flash of red hair outside of his window caught his eye, and the knot returned as he heard the knock on his front door. He opened it slowly, wondering with a pang of nervousness why she would be coming to his doorstep.
"Hi," the green eyes crinkled at the corners as they looked up into his. "I just thought I'd say a quick hello and welcome you to the neighborhood, such as it is. My name is Lara and if there's anything I can help you with, just let me know."
He stood and stared at her. Those eyes.
She reddened at his silence, and backed away a bit. "Well, I don't mean to disturb. I know you're busy with the move and all."
She was just starting to turn to leave when he caught himself and forced the voice from his throat, trying with some difficulty to sound normal. "Please excuse my rudeness. I wasn't expecting anyone and I was clearly surprised."
Her smile returned, the ice broken. "No need for apology. I don't get many visitors either out here in this secluded neck of the woods. But I thought that it would be quite thoughtless of me to not at least introduce myself."
"Thank you for that," he managed to return the smile.
"Alright then, good deed done, and I won't disturb any longer," she said, assuming that his lack of conversation signaled the end to the meeting.
"Severus," he said softly.
"I'm sorry?" she wasn't certain that she had heard him.
"My name is Severus. Would you care to come in? I'm just heating up the kettle."
"No, I've just had a run and I'm needing a shower," she laughed.
"Alright," he answered, suddenly disappointed but not surprised. What had made him extend the invitation when she was clearly just doing her neighborly duty?
"But if you can wait ten minutes, I'll bring some biscuits," she stated, her hand moving a stray strand of hair out of her eye.
"Biscuits would be nice," he said softly.
He washed up and put on a pair of the jeans that he had chosen at the clothing store, after carefully observing the dress of the local Muggles he had encountered in the streets. He pulled on the new black tee shirt, but cursed at not having tried it on in the store. It was quite snug and the muscles in his arms and chest bulged out a bit too much for his liking. There was nothing to do with the mark on his forearm, but he had seen similar markings on the arms of Muggles and remembered the tattoo that his own father had sported on his upper arm. If any questions were asked, he could play it off as an unfortunate choice made in his youth.
He retied his clean hair, confident that it looked quite acceptable to Muggle standards, having noted more than a few similar stylings of this sort on the men that he had passed earlier in the day. He looked into the hallway mirror and thought somewhat begrudgingly that the look was acceptable, although he would have felt much more at ease in his old tunics and robes.
The only thing that he could see, that might be considered a bit out of the standard of the "average man on the street" were his eyes. Blacker than coal, they caught even the tiniest glint of light, and were not even remotely a color that might be considered a normal shade of brown. It was a trait of the Wizards in his family blood line, and widely considered a mark of high intelligence in the Witch and Wizarding community. In his normal environment, he was quite proud of this feature, but would he be singled out as an oddity here amongst people who did not know of things such as Wizard blood lines and the importance of marks and colors and long accepted Witch tales?
He felt her presence at the door before he heard the knock, and reminded himself to lighten up his normally tightly controlled persona. This was a one time visit by a neighbor, dutifully made in kindness, as all Muggles seemed to be quite gregarious and trusting. He would need to mimic this trait in order to "pass", and even though his instincts were still those of a Wizard who knew more than most the darkness that lay behind each bush and under every rock, he must play the role. He was quite confident that having done her duty, the lovely woman would go her way again, and for that he felt a certain amount of relief.
You're lying, the voice in his ear whispered, but he threw it aside with a toss of his head.
She wore her hair down, glistening shiny and still a bit damp from her shower. He could smell the familiar lavender scent of the shampoo fragrance. She laughed as she juggled a plate of homemade biscuits, attempting to remove her jacket at the same time, and as he reached for the tinfoil covered dish, he almost gave himself away, nearly muttering a Righting Spell as the dish started to topple in her hands. Careful! he quickly reminded himself, and caught the plate at the last minute in the 'normal' Muggle way.
"Pecan short breads," she announced. "I hope you like them. They're still fresh from this morning."
"My favorite," he smiled, although he had no experience with the biscuits that she described. "Please, sit there by the fire and I'll bring the tea."
"Thank you," she nodded, looking around the room at the cozy surroundings. "You are very handy. I've been in this cottage before and it never looked so clean."
"I had a bit of help with the moving in and the clean up," he murmured, "from a friend. But he won't be returning so it will be mine to keep up. Good luck to me," he added with a slight smirk.
True to her description, the biscuits were fresh and buttery and melted in his mouth, and the warmth of the tea with its lovely bergamot hues melted all discomforts on both sides. Soon they were comfortably rolling along in conversation, the fire crackly cozily at their feet.
"Would you sample a glass of wine with me?" he asked after a period of time. "My friend left it and I have been thinking to try it out, but wine is always better when shared."
"That's a nice way of putting it," she said with a smile. "I'd love to, that is if the invitation is not just out of duty."
"My purpose for moving is to relinquish all sense of duty," he stared boldly into her eyes. "I've had enough of that for a lifetime. I hope from now on to only do the things that truly inspire me, and right now, sharing a glass of wine with you seems upper most on the list."
"Alright," she reddened slightly and watched as he rose and turned to the dining room to uncork the ruby red bottle.
"So you will be working with Mr. Collingsworth," she commented on his revelation about his new position. "He is a lovely person, although Martin has become a bit distracted over the years. I'm glad that he has hired an assistant."
"Martin? You are friends?"
"Yes, I teach blind students at the home just outside the village. They have many special needs as well, and I have made hundreds of trips to the chemist's shop," she spoke, her brow raised in a slight tilt.
So lovely, he thought.
"I think you will get on very well. I just find it a bit amusing…"
"What's that?" he raised an eyebrow.
"Oh, nothing about Martin. But the ladies in the town will be arriving in droves once they discover the new assistant," her laughter tinkled.
"I beg your pardon? Why should my presence bring added interest? It is only a drug shop," he raised his glass to hers and took a hearty sip.
"Oh, don't be coy, Severus," she sipped the cool nectar and tilted her head. "You cannot deny that you are an exceedingly handsome man, because I'm certain that you have turned heads throughout your life. No need to be modest. Some people are just born with it and some… aren't."
"I'm certain that I have no idea of what you are referring to," Snape answered, quite truthfully. "I don't remember ever turning as much as a hair, let along an entire head," he now smiled, joining in on her joke. "You are a considerate neighbor if are attempting to bolster my confidence, but I am well aware that I have none of the attributes of which you speak, so it really isn't necessary."
Her mouth opened as if to say something, and then closed quickly. "Alright, Severus, if you insist on this modesty, I'll play along. But I'm just warning you, you will be overrun by many admirers. You'll know what I mean when they fill the shop and stammer in your presence."
"Bollocks," he let out a roar of laughter, the wine loosening his tongue. "Alright, you may say what you wish, but the facts are before us. I haven't heard one stammer or stutter from your lips, and I don't think it will happen in any other location, despite the intrigue and curiosity that might naturally occur at the arrival of a new face in town."
"Well, of course I wouldn't stammer. There is no chance of you finding me in any way attractive so there is no reason for me to queue up for your attentions. But there are some very lovely and available women in this town who will let their intentions be known, mark my word," she blushed a bit, and Severus wasn't quite certain whether it was from the words or the wine.
"Now who is being truly falsely modest?" he glowered, shaking his head in her direction. "But, as if you actually need a compliment, your beauty is startling. If indeed there are lovelier women in the vicinity, then all single males are in deep trouble." He set down his glass and crossed his arms as he finished, but was not prepared for her answer.
"You don't have to do that," she finished her wine and started to rise. "I well know how ugly I am. Alright, you don't like that word," she noticed his shocked expression, "but I've never felt it necessary to use a euphemism. Besides, I've heard the "kinder" descriptions of 'homely' and 'unattractive' throughout my life, and I would just prefer to keep it honest."
"You're joking," he stood along side of her, now confused as to the deteriorating direction of their conversation.
"No. If we're going to be neighbors, and perhaps friends, I'd rather appreciate honesty than false compliments. Thank you for the tea and wine, Severus. I hope we can do it again sometime."
After she was gone, Snape collapsed in his chair, wondering what had just happened. Surely she was pulling his leg. This woman's face belonged on a canvas, painted by one of the masters. Had she suddenly found herself uncomfortable in his presence, perhaps feeling a bit overwhelmed by his offer of wine? That must have been it, of course. They barely knew each other and he had all but cornered her and then pressed her to join him in the imbibing of spirits.
Idiot, he chastised himself.
But what was that whole 'ugly' rant about? Couldn't she have just excused herself without weaving such a preposterous story? It had begun with the topsy-turvy conversation of his attractiveness, as if he would have really believed that ridiculous notion, and ended with a story that was totally nonsensical. Ugly? She had had to reach far for that fable, very far indeed.
He shook his head and finished his glass. "Women," he mumbled. "The Muggle kind are just as confusing."