Severus Snape had been outraged to see one of his students lurking so near to his childhood home; the idea that a mere child could have found him in Spinner's End was more horrifying than the Dark Lord himself.
Alice Crowley. Seventh year. Gryffindor.
Unlike her Housemates, Alice was quiet and calm. She never caused any mither. She worked diligently in class, consistently producing excellent written work and flawless potions. She bore his chiding and castigation with dignity, never arguing or talking back. In fact, Severus didn't think he'd heard more than a handful of words from her since she arrived as a first year. She would only speak when spoken to, and her answers were short and precise, with no unnecessary elaboration. Unobtrusive, careful, and talented, she was Severus' ideal, near-invisible student.
It was therefore a shock to his system to see the girl enter the corner shop, where he had gone to buy a pack of cigarettes. As soon as he caught a glimpse of the familiar adolescent, he ducked behind a tall stack of beer cans and discreetly observed, trying to work out what she was doing and why.
The girl seemed oblivious to his presence as she made her way around the shop, filling up her basket with some basic foodstuffs, but Severus knew better. Surely she must have seen him enter and followed him inside. Why was she spying on him? It was obvious the little chit was Up To Something, and Severus would soon find out what. If this was another stupid Gryffindor prank, he would ensure that the little dunderhead regretted it. He would confront her, and make her tell him how she knew where he lived. He would ensure she would run a mile and never look back. And as soon as school starts again, he would get his revenge.
His malicious musings were interrupted as Alice paid for her goods at the counter and exited the shop, having given no indication that she had known about his presence. Severus found himself growing more intrigued by the minute, and, abandoning his vantage point, he sneaked out behind her noiselessly, determined to follow the girl.
Her retreating form was easy to locate and follow. He continued his silent pursuit and almost chuckled when the normally reserved young lady blurted out a string of blistering invectives, loud enough to echo to the rooftops of the nearby industrial estates. Alice appeared to be deep in thought, and Severus assumed it was because she was plotting something unpleasant, like the Gryffindor she was. His discomfort peaked alarmingly high when Crowley rounded the corner and paused dangerously close to his house. He was going to have to Obliviate her, and fast.
When Alice stood outside a faded red gate and fumbled with her pockets, Severus seized his opportunity to pounce.
Treading softly with the well-honed skills of a hunter, Severus stalked over to where Alice stood and, before she had a chance to realise what was happening, he took out his wand and pressed it forcefully against her sternum. The girl shrieked in alarm and her arms flew up in a defensive posture, scattering her shopping all over the pavement. Quick reflexes saved him from the girl's knee-jerk reaction. As she froze in shock, he tried to summon her wand non-verbally. The stupid child was unarmed! Why would she go out without her wand in these dangerous times? Hasn't she learned anything in her six years of magical education?
His furious acrimony and desire to intimidate, Obliviate, and send the girl running for her life were replaced by perplexity and interest when Alice shook herself out of her terrified daze and snapped at him, telling him in no uncertain terms that she lived right there in Spinner's End. Severus' eyes snapped wide open with disbelief and he found himself too unsettled by the girl's revelation to register the disrespectful way in which she addressed him.
It took him a moment to regain his composure as he ran a quick mental check of all the things he knew about Alice Crowley. 'Liar.' He drawled in his low, silky voice, his upper lip curling in a contemptuous sneer. 'You, Miss Crowley, live in Staffordshire. Stoke-On-Trent, if I remember correctly? Or was it the Moorlands?'
'I'm afraid your information is out of date, Professor.' replied Alice irritably. 'I used to live in Staffordshire. This -', she pointed at the rickety red gate, 'is my father's childhood home. And now it's mine. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to go inside, eat me breakfast, and have a fucking smoke!'
The young witch was visibly agitated and her voice rose in near-hysteria. Casting a quick look around, Severus grabbed her upper arm again and forcibly pushed her towards the gate. 'Inside.' He commanded, holding her arm in a bruising grip. He knew that the curtain-twitching Muggles would be on to them like vultures if they continued their argument out in the open. Alice cast an angry glance at her Professor, and then another at her shopping bags, forgotten on the pavement and soaked in the rain. Severus relaxed his hold, allowing the girl to pick up her things. Moments later, he was confronted by a Cadbury's chocolate bar, thrust into his face by an angry looking Alice. He stared at her incredulously, wondering if the chit had finally lost the plot.
Quickly, she explained, 'You won't get past the wards without it, sir. Please take it and follow me inside. It's raining cats and dogs and I'm sick of standing out here like a bloody idiot!'
Severus considered the purple wrapping, then took it from the girl with an unreadable expression. She sighed with annoyance and, fumbling with the rusty latch, opened the gate and stepped into her backyard. He followed her warily, attempting to hide his discomfort at entering unfamiliar territory. Looking around, he surveyed his surroundings. The tiny backyard was ensconced within a shabby timber fence. The paving slabs were a dull grey, cracked and dirty, with weeds sticking out of the gaps in all directions. A little shed made out of brick stood to the left, and a large terracotta pot was placed opposite, filled to the brim with cigarette butts. It appeared that, just like him, the girl smoked like a chimney.
Stepping inside the house, Severus tossed the chocolate bar onto the worktop by the door and cast a quick drying charm on himself and his host. He closed the door behind him and took in the sight of Alice's kitchen. Judging by the sorry state of the backyard, he was expecting to find himself in a grimy hovel. Instead, he noted that the place was surprisingly well kept. The kitchen slightly spacious than his own, brightly lit and impeccably clean, although the décor was rather old-fashioned. The walls were adorned with beige, embossed wallpaper, the units and appliances were bog-standard, flimsy and yellowed with age, and the floor was covered in a burnt-orange lino with a circular design. An old, rectangular wooden table with four chairs stood by the opposite wall, next to a door that led into a dark, narrow hallway.
Alice stood by the net curtained window, trying to roll a cigarette with trembling hands. She was still upset over the confrontation, and she struggled to roll her paper into the desired shape. Severus sighed and, in a rare display of benevolence, reached into his pocket and took out his own pack of fags, offering one to the girl.
'Benson and Hedges, eh? Nice one. Thanks, sir', said Alice with a small, nervous giggle. Fumbling around her pockets, she found her lighter and lit up her cigarette, taking a long, deep drag. She closed her eyes as she exhaled a long, shaky breath, and held up her lighter to Snape. He took the proffered light and lit his own cigarette, drawing the smoke into his lungs through his teeth.
Severus looked out the window. The downpour of rain increased in intensity, and the thunderstorm was getting nearer, announcing its presence with blinding bolts of lightning. He was silently reflecting on the recent events, organising the new information in his head. His new neighbour lived on the other side of the road, approximately ten doors down. It looked like she was living alone – why? And why was the house so heavily warded? Was she hiding? What, or who, was she hiding from?
He detected numerous layers of enchantments around the property, including aversion charms, distraction charms, forgetfulness charms, some nasty hexes, and various other repellents designed to protect the inhabitant from unwanted visitors.
If the girl wasn't aware of him living nearby, how would he explain his own presence outside her house? The thought of revealing himself as her neighbour made him feel exposed and vulnerable. He idly wished that she wouldn't ask too many questions. He really should have thought this through before confronting her in the first place.
His thoughts were interrupted when Alice swayed slightly on her feet and grabbed the counter top. He took a step towards her, but she just closed her eyes and chuckled. 'Nicotine rush'. She explained, 'I haven't had one since I went to bed last night'. She took another deep drag and exhaled with a contented sigh.
'I guess we should talk.' she stated in a small voice. Severus nodded, and Alice grabbed the kettle and walked over to the sink to fill it with water. She set the kettle on its stand, flicked the switch, and turned to face him. 'I'm going to get changed. I won't be long. Please, make yourself comfortable, Professor', she said, gesturing to the table and chairs.
With another nod, Severus sat down at the table, and Alice walked out of the kitchen. He heard her walk up the creaking stairs, and lit another cigarette. His experience as a student and Head of House had him know that women liked to take their time with these things.
He snorted at his own misfortune. Gryffindors were giving him enough trouble in Hogwarts, and now, he had one to deal with during the holidays as well. It appeared that there was truly no safe place to hide. They would always find him in the end. This particular Gryffindor wasn't the worst of the lot, anyway. If she was telling him the truth, they would keep any interaction to the minimum, like they always did.
Or would they? Severus considered his student carefully. Her essays were always a pleasure to read and grade. Her potions were of exceptional quality. He remembered the small, feral little creature with frightened eyes she was in her first year. Poppy and Minerva would discuss her in the staff room in hushed tones, deeply disturbed by the poor condition of the girl's physical state.
He was therefore extremely uncomfortable with the realisation that the little creature had grown up into a rather attractive witch. She was still very small, barely reaching the top of his shoulder, but instead of skinny, she was slender and lean. Her dark blonde hair was slightly wavy and fell to the middle of her back. Her eyes, almond shaped and grey like the stormy sky, were framed by thick, brown eyelashes and delicate, gently rounded brows.
She was not a beauty, he decided, but she was certainly a pretty young woman. Disgusted with himself for even thinking such thoughts, he concentrated on the more pressing matters, determined not to let his mind wander again.
The girl reappeared some fifteen minutes later. Her hair was dry and put up in a messy bun on top of her head. She was dressed in a tight-fitting, pastel yellow, strappy vest, and a pair of obscenely short denim cut offs. Her feet were bare, and her toenails were painted a dark, vampy red. Severus tried not to stare at those perfectly formed, arched feet, and the slender, shapely legs as the young witch glided over to the kettle. Without turning to look at him, she asked, 'Would you like a brew, sir?'
'Tea, black.'