When an old Nokia phone appears in his apothecary twenty years after the war, Severus Snape's life takes a turn for the bizarre as, with its unsettling and personal 'spexts', this seemingly Muggle device forces him to question his past and the choices he'd made; exposing vulnerabilities and raising doubts upon the decisions he'd made after the war.
But as the mysterious phone's uncanny sentience transforms his once-quiet life into a battleground of chaos and introspection, challenging his understanding of both magic and the human psyche, could there possibly be a chance at redemption for this reclused Potions Master?
Well, someone clearly appears to think so, otherwise this load of crack wouldn't have been written...
-o-
Please note that anything recognisable is not mine and belongs to whoever owns it.
For plot clarification, Severus Snape is a Pureblood Wizard, and as such would not fully understand the workings behind Muggle Technology - let alone that they have a removable battery...
"The world of visual perspective is one of unified and homogeneous space. Such a world is alien to the resonating diversity of spoken words. So language was the last art to accept the visual logic of Gutenberg technology, and the first to rebound in the electric age."
Marshall McLuhan
Twenty years...
Two decades had passed since the climactic Battle of Hogwarts, and the Wizarding World had already rebuilt what the wars of the past had so readily tried to destroy, now resembling something far more than the world one Severus Snape could recall before his entire life had gone to shit.
Witches and wizards from all walks of life; Muggleborns, Half-bloods, Purebloods, and even the occasional Squib had managed to mend the shattered remnants of a world torn asunder by the dark and vile menace that had been the Dark Lord Voldemort; to the point wherein Diagon Alley had regained far more than its former lustre as shops the Potions Master had never seen before opened their doors for the beginning of another school year and drew in the crowds.
Yet for Severus Snape; Potions Master, former Professor, Death Eater, and Spy, as well as one-time Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, he still found that he preferred the quieter and more reclusive lifestyle.
Crowds had never been his thing, children even less so, and ever since he'd woken up - surprisingly alive - with the white walls of St Mungo's to greet him after Nagini had done her damned best to tear out his throat, Severus had affirmed that he would never step foot inside the hallowed halls of Hogwarts - or any form of classroom - again.
Nagini's venomous bite, the price he had ultimately paid for protecting the Boy-Who-Lived-Only-To-Die-At-The-Right-Moment, had left him permanently mute. However, and although the damnable snake may have stolen his voice, it had not taken away his formidable talent for potion-making.
Severus, of course, upon his departure from teaching and leaving Hogwarts in the past - and where it should have always been since the day he'd graduated from its prestigious halls - had opened a small apothecary in a discrete corner of Diagon Alley. The potions he brewed were world-renowned for their efficacy, and his clientele had grown steadily over the years. In his world, the need for speech had become unnecessary, a useless thing people did to fill in the quiet moments during the day. It was not a true requirement of his craft, potion-making itself seeming as though it were his native language; one wherein words were never spoken less concentration be broken.
It was a gusty afternoon in late August when the wizard was making his way through the bustling alley, heading towards his apothecary after a visit to the Ministry. The crowds were so thick, the hubbub of voices and laughter so loud that it seemed as though the scowl twisting his lips had been permanently affixed by a sticking charm. Passersby glanced at him curiously, some whispering in hushed tones about the mysterious and reclusive Potions Master, who, once an unfathomable figure in Hogwarts, had turned his life to creating nothing more than remedies and elixirs. They spoke under their breath of his sacrifices for the so-called 'Greater Good', along with his supposed loyalty to the dark and ability to even manipulate the Minister of Magic of his so-called 'innocence'. But few, if any, knew of the truth of the cost he'd paid, of the life and choices he'd been forced to make whilst living under the pressing thumbs of two Masters.
Few knew of the secrets he'd passed to Harry before the boy had gone and gotten himself killed.
As Severus reached his destination, he lowered the wards before stepping inside his dimly lit apothecary, feeling the wards snap back into place as he did so. The scent of rare ingredients and exotic herbs filled the air, and glass vials glistened under the soft lighting. However, and while he inhaled the familiar scents in, feeling the tension in his muscles dissipating after his trek out into the world, the wizard knew deep within his heart that this place, his entire voiceless existence held no consequence upon the magical community.
Severus was a Potions Master, yes; maybe even one of the youngest to have obtained such a degree in all of Britain. But there were many around the world who could do what he did, who were already doing what he was doing. What was just another in an overly competitive market?
Yet, and on this particular day, it seemed that the Fates had something unusual in store for this recluse of a wizard. As Severus adjusted his black robes, hanging his travelling cloak on the hook behind the counter of his shop, he noticed a glint of metal on one of his meticulously organised shelves. It was an object that Severus knew not to belong in the world of magic.
There, amidst the vials of powered moonstone and jars of dried mandrake root, lay an ancient and peculiar artifact.
A Nokia phone, a relic from a bygone era, rested incongruously on the wooden shelf. Its dusty screen displayed a faded image of a call from a forgotten time, its keypad a testament to the archaic nature of the device, and Severus Snape, his curiosity clearly having been piqued, could only reach for the anachronistic object, his dark eyes narrowing with suspicious intrigue.
In the midst of the inscrutably magical, this relic from the Muggle world represented as a mystery to the Pureblood wizard, and he couldn't help but wonder how such a device had found its way to his apothecary. And as he held the phone in his hand, its cold and lifeless exterior standing in stark contrast to the vibrant and mystical world he did inhabit, Severus Snape found his thoughts wandering.
With his voice having been forever silenced by Nagini's venomous attack, the wizard turned on his heel without a sound; heading to the back of his shop as he begun to ponder the mysteries of the mobile device, along with the untold secrets it may hold.
However, and little did Severus know, this mundane discovery would lead him down a path of unexpected revelations and a journey into the uncharted territory of exactly what happens to Muggle technology after they'd entered the Magical world.
Severus Snape had always been a wizard of precision and control, something of which had been the foundations of his survival whilst he'd been trapped under the thumb of two masters for the better part of twenty years. But the intrusion of the Nokia phone into his life had become an unpredictable disruption. Despite its seemingly archaic nature, the device defied his understanding of the magical - or Muggle - world.
The device had no business functioning in the realm of wizards, and yet it did so sporadically - and entirely without any warning.
Days had slowly progressed into weeks, and the inconceivable interruptions had only grown more frequent. Severus had begun to regret the moment he'd discovered the mobile amidst his carefully organised ingredients. It was not so much the phone itself that bothered him, though, but the untimely moments when it would chose to disrupt his life.
It was as if the phone had a mind of its own, and at the most inconvenient of times, it would inexplicably spring to life. The ancient ringtone, a nostalgic chime that echoed with its peculiar Muggle origins, would reverberate through his apothecary or disrupt the crucial meetings he was forced to attend out in the wider wizarding community. Severus, unaccustomed to the intricacies of Muggle technology and its requirements to be turned off or on, could not fathom how to silence the persistent contraption.
One particularly vexing incident had occurred during a visit from an influential client, an esteemed member of the Wizarding Council. Severus had been in the midst of negotiating a significant potions order - via parchment - promising the highest quality of ingredients and prompt delivery, when the phone had decided to chime in with its shrill, out-of-place tune. The council member had raised an eyebrow, and Severus, unable to even begin trying to explain the device's presence, let alone its erratic behaviour, could only offer a disapproving glance in return.
Another time, during a delicate operation with a group of rare herb collectors in a secluded magical forest, the phone had emitted its jarring ringtone so loud that it had sent a herd of hippogriffs into the air. The creatures - and even the trees - seemed to recoil in utter horror at the intrusion, and Severus had been left feeling a mixture of frustration and embarrassment as he scrambled to try and silence the device, only succeeding when he'd surrounded the blasted thing with a modified Muffliato Charm.
As the incidents only multiplied, the wizard found himself considering the possibility of a curse; be that upon his person or the very device he felt he'd been cursed with, for what else could explain the phone's inexplicable behaviour? He had even - in one of his far less saner moments - contemplated throwing the damnable thing into the flames of his cauldron, or locking it away in a draw and warding the bloody thing within an inch of its life. However, and every time he had tried to part with the mobile, the phone would seem to resist, inexplicably returning to its place on the shelf in his apothecary much to his growing irritation.
It had become apparent very quickly to the wizard that this seemingly ordinary Muggle device held more secrets than he could fathom. It defied all his attempts of control, interrupting his life at the most inconvenient moments, and forced him to confront a realm of technology and non-magical power he had never encountered before.
With a heavy, silent sigh, Severus finally resigned himself to the fact his life would never be without drama, and that he seemed to be rather stuck with a Muggle device that acted more magical than not; realising that he was never going to escape the peculiar disruptions it brought to his life. It seemed that, in his existence as a mute Potions Master, he was forever destined to grapple with the vexing mysteries of the magical world - all of which appeared to be locked away in a Muggle device, hiding the secrets he wanted so desperately to know.
As the weeks continued to pass, the Nokia phone's uncanny interruptions had only, well, 'evolved', leaving Severus in a constant state of bewilderment. The device had appeared to have acquired an unsettling sentience, one that transcended the realm of mere musical disruptions as it had now started to communicate in a way that defied all explanation. It was as if it had suddenly developed a way to perceive the emotions, thoughts, and insecurities of those around it, its once-annoying ringtone having transformed into a tool of calculated disruption that had been solely tailored to create chaos and discomfort in the lives of those unfortunate enough to be within its vicinity.
The device, with its outdated monochromatic screen, had started to 'speak', no longer limited to that annoying jingle as it took on a far more disturbingly personal nature, one that had become far worse than the dreaded 'Bat of the Dungeons' had ever been, and Severus found himself in an inexplicable predicament.
One evening the wizard could recall, as he had convened with a group of influential potion retailers within his dimly lit apothecary, the phone had suddenly chimed in with a message that struck at the very core of their deals and negotiations. 'He's overcharging you, you know,' the device had spewed, its words hanging in the air like a venomous serpent. The vendors had exchanged wary glances; their trust appearing to have eroded by the simplistic and insinuation of betrayal, and Severus, whose intent had always been to secure the best deals and sales for his apothecary, was left to grapple with the aftermath of this destructive interruption.
Another occasion had occurred during a critical meeting within the hallowed halls of the Ministry of Magic, the Nokia cutting in with a message aimed directly at the highest-ranking official present - the very Minister of Magic himself, Neville Longbottom. 'You're nothing but a puppet!' it had declared with a rather deranged cackle, surprisingly cutting through the growing tension in the room like a knife. Yet the Minister had fallen into what Severus had first thought to be an uncomfortable silence, the older wizard unable to do anything more but watch as Longbottom struggled to regain his composure while attempting to ignore the vile drivel coming from the blasted device.
The Minister's efforts to supress his laughter were ultimately in vain, and had ended up bursting into a fit of uncharacteristic giggles. Then, much to Severus' chagrin, Neville bloody Longbottom had only looked at him with a scarily fond expression, trying to keep himself from breaking down again as he stated, "Only you, Master Snape, could charm a Muggle phone to insult people."
Severus had found himself in an unusual situation as the Minister and his officials had then began marvelling over his unusual and seemingly enchanted - cursed! - device.
Another unsettling incident he could recall happened during a rare visit from Lucius Malfoy and his wife, Narcissa. As they engaged in polite conversation, the phone had chimed in with the intrusive message: 'Do they truly respect you, Severus, or are they just afraid of you?' and the wizard had been left watching as the expressions of both Malfoy's had contorted with confusion and discomfort.
The phone's remark had cut to the core of his relationship with the Malfoys', leaving the wizard in a state of discomfort. He was unable to explain the inexplicable behaviour of the Muggle device to a pair of Purebloods like himself, and of whom had once been his allies. All he could only raise a curious eyebrow in response - all the while he'd been left to ponder the unsettling possibility that some of the relationships he had maintained from the wars were only sustained because of the fear he'd utilized in order to keep his cover of a spy and to stop people from looking too closely at his actions.
The thought... it was rather unsettling, one that then cast a shadow over the interactions he had with those from his past. It was a disconcerting realization, one that forced him to confront the complexities of his life and the motivations behind the alliances he had formed during the turbulent times of the Wizarding World.
Severus was no stranger to fear, and nor was he a stranger to manipulation, but the Nokia's newfound ability to disrupt and control the dynamics of his interactions with those around him had left him in a peculiar and unpredictable situation. The unsettling 'spexts' (spoken texts), each sharper and more personal than the last, left those who experienced them feeling vulnerable and exposed. The device's ability to exploit not only his silence, but also the vulnerabilities of those around him, able to read the emotions, fears, and secrets and provoking reactions from any and all, was as bewildering as it was unsettling. It was if it preyed on insecurities and probed into the deepest corners of even the hardest of hearts, succeeding at turning meetings into arenas of emotional turmoil instead.
It was clear that the mysterious phone had become a force unto itself, one that the Potions Master could neither control nor comprehend, and as the messages became more invasive and unsettling, Severus found it increasingly challenging to maintain the relationships he had worked so hard to build. His buyers grew suddenly wary, and once-open and friendly acquaintances became more guarded in their interactions. The presence of the phone had brought turmoil and instability to the life he had carved out in the wake of the Battle of Hogwarts, having become a source of tension and unease during what should have been routine interactions with customers and colleagues.
Despite his reputation as a master of control and subtlety, Severus was at a loss. The mysterious phone had become akin to a nemesis, its words and actions beyond his understanding or influence. And notwithstanding the oddity of the situation, it was clear that the Nokia had now become a hallmark of Severus Snape's life. It was as if the device had taken on a mind of its own, sowing discord, confusion, and the occasional laughter wherever it went. The blasted contraption had surpassed even the wildest pranks of the Weasley twins, becoming a constant source of unpredictability and chaos.
His shop had not been spared from these eerie spexts either. The once-silent apothecary had now become a reluctant host to a silent, malevolent presence that was tearing apart the world he had so carefully constructed.
Whilst consulting with a young witch about her requirement for an obscure potion ingredient, the phone had suddenly exclaimed, 'This is beneath you, dear. You deserve better.' The witch, bewildered and taken aback, could only assume that he'd been passing judgement on her request as she caught sight of Severus scowling darkly at the Nokia after its outburst. The next thing he'd known, Severus had a crying witch standing in his apothecary, and he was once again stuck in a predicament where he incapable of explaining the situation.
Another moment he could recall, Severus had been engrossed with listening to a discussion being held between a group of his loyal customers, rolling his eyes at their rather naïve thoughts upon the intricacies of potion-making, when the Nokia had sprung to life once again. The room had fallen into complete silence as the outdated, monochrome screen lit up before, 'Severus, you really did never fit in, did you? No matter how hard you tried.' cut through the air. The gathered could only share uncertain glances, and the Potions Master was left feeling a mixture of anger and embarrassment as he snatched up the device and stormed out the door of his own shop.
His own apothecary, a place that had once been a sanctuary of solace and quiet reflection, had now become a battleground of conflicting emotions and unspoken turmoil. Severus couldn't discern the source of these unsettling spexts, no matter how hard he tried. Nor could he figure out a way to rid himself of the device that had become far more than just an unwelcomed presence in his life. The phone seemed to challenge his past and the choices he'd made, forcing the wizard to confront the echoes of doubt that had forever lingered within his own heart, ones that he had once been so content to ignore. It had become nothing more than a relentless tormentor, something far worse than the Marauders had ever been as it revelled in revealing his innermost insecurities and forced him to question the validity of his existence.
Severus, however much he'd been able to accept that the inexplicable predicament he'd found himself in was beyond his control, and as he learned to navigate the strange twists of this new chapter of his life, couldn't help but ponder upon the nature of the malevolent force behind the mobile, and whether its presence was a harbinger of even greater mysteries and challenges yet to come.
As the months passed, the mute Potions Master had found himself ensnared within a web of mystery and uncertainty, with a Muggle relic that refused to be silenced. The device's ability to pry into the minds and hearts of those around him was an unsettling reminder that the world he lived in, was actually apart of, held more mysteries than he had ever imagined; even beyond that of the realm of potions and magic.
The ancient Nokia had become an enigma, one that Severus hoped to decipher and perhaps, if at all possible, tame.
The Hogs Head Inn, hidden away in the shadowy corners of Hogsmeade, was a haven of quiet contemplation from the vexations of Severus Snape's life, as well as the mobile phone whose penchant for intrusive spexts had become a bane to his existence. It was there, with the company of a glass of firewhisky and amidst the dimly lit ambience, did he seek solace, hoping to temporarily drown out the disquiet that had become his constant companion.
As the evening waned and the pub's patrons slowly began to disperse to better places, Severus kept a wary eye always on the suspiciously dormant phone resting on the table by his elbow. It seemed to - for him at least - pulse with an otherworldly energy, poised to interrupt his solitude at the most inconvenient and intrusive moment, and the wizard found himself unable to reach the serenity he'd hoped to find within the discrepant pub as he nervously awaited for just when that interruption would be.
So engrossed with his thoughts about when his most recent tormentor would try and upend his life once more, Severus Snape never noticed the rather handsy witch from a nearby table decide that tonight was the night she would try her luck with the mysterious Potions Master. He didn't notice her appearance at his side, or the way she reached out to touch his arm, her intentions far from innocent.
The wizard only realised he was no longer alone when he startled as a limb wrapped around his wrist - at the same time the Nokia's screen lit up.
'Hands off, slag, or I assure you that you boyfriend will know of the weekend you just had in Paris!'
The witch recoiled away from both Severus and the phone in utter terror; her face contorting with fear as she stumbled back to her table, and Severus couldn't help but find himself smirking inwardly.
Perhaps the phone did have its uses, after all.
However, and just as he had begun to feel a sense of intrigue and amusement regarding the possibilities of the Nokia's use, Severus found himself being interrupted once more. To his surprise, it was one of his vendors, one of many who had grown wary after the mobile's unsettling remark. The wizard approached Severus' table, an uneasy expression marring his features as he cleared his throat.
"Master Snape," he began, earning a nod from the Potion Master in question. "I, er... Well, me and Ernie have been buying potions and ingredients from you for years, and there's no denying their quality, but after what..." the man trailed off, glancing to the mobile sitting 'innocently' beside Severus' elbow. "After what was said, we couldn't help but feel a bit... concerned."
The Potions Master arched an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued despite the way he could feel the firewhisky souring in his stomach.
This couldn't be good.
The vendor hesitated for a moment, sparing the Nokia another glance before he continued. "Well, it's not a secret that your prices are rather high," he stated, finding his bravado leaving him as the expression on Severus' face darkened. "And we've always accepted it because your products are unmatched in quality," the wizard continued hastily, "But after what was implied, it got me and Ernie wondering if there's something more to it; were you overcharging us?"
Severus' expression could only darken further as his own gaze dropped to the not-so-innocent device before him, his mind contemplating the full implications of the mobile's interference with his life. He had built his reputation from scratch after the war, had built it solely upon the integrity of his potions and skills alone. Yet now, after one not so innocent comment from a cursed Muggle device, doubt had been cast over his entire business dealings.
As silent as the undead, the Potions Master looked back to the wizard still standing by his table, a finger around the glass in his hand twitching. Before the man's eyes, a scrap of parchment appeared upon the table, though he blinked as a quill was soon to follow; words being scribbled in a familiar scratchy script upon the parchment's surface.
I assure you, the prices I charge is commensurate with the quality of my potions. There are not, nor have there ever been, any hidden agendas or excessive profits. I take my craft seriously, and after spending almost twenty years attempting to teach... children the fine art that is Potions, I can astutely state that quality should be compensated accordingly. I am no Neville Longbottom, Mister Nuppet.
The vendor seemed somewhat reassured by Severus' written response, and even a small chuckle escaping his lips. "I never meant to imply, and I do hope you understand, Master Snape. It's just that, well, after hearing such things, it makes a person wonder."
Severus could only nod in response, his eyes fixed on the man. He could appreciated his candidness, however, the strange turn of events left the Potions Mater perturbed, to say the least. He had never imagined that a Muggle device would disrupt his business affairs in such a bizarre and unexpected manner, and the vendor, sensing an opportunity, decided to address the topic that had brought him to disturb Severus' night in the first place head-on.
"Master Snape," he began, his tone sincere and direct, "As I mentioned, Ernie and I have been discussing the quality of your potions, and there's no denying that yours are the best. We've also carefully considered your prices, and while they may lean on the higher side, we've found that importing the same quantity and quality would be not only costly but potentially damaging to the growth we anticipate over the next few years." A wry smile tugged at the man's lips as he added, "And we also can't deny the value of your work. Ernie's gran says you were a right horror for a Professor, yet you were always making sure your students were safe. Anyone who knows potions understands how unpredictable and volatile they can be, and I'm grateful that the Minister ultimately swayed the Board into allowing for smaller class sizes. Teaching such an unpredictable and explosive art to over thirty students would have been a nightmare."
"But I digress," the wizard continued. "What I wanted to speak to you about is the possibility of arranging a meeting to discuss further sales. We've never found fault with our partnership, and given what I've recently discovered, we'd be foolish not to explore the opportunity of expanding our business with your expertise."
Severus raised an eyebrow, his initial surprise giving way to a growing sense of intrigue. The conversation had taken an unexpected turn, and he found himself contemplating the possibilities that lay ahead - possibilities that had been initiated by the interference of a cursed Muggle device.
The Potions Master nodded after a moment, silently acknowledging the other man's proposal. The mysteries of the magical world had a way of presenting opportunities in the most unconventional ways, and as the two wizards continued their discussion, the idea of expanding his client base began to take shape, and Severus couldn't help but acknowledge the potential benefits.
A sense of intrigue washed over him as they outlined their plans and what they hoped to achieve with this proposed meeting, and the more they discussed, the more Severus realized that this unexpected interaction had brought about an opportunity to strengthen his business and reputation.
The Nokia phone lay dormant on the table, seemingly uninvolved in this discussion of potential business growth. Yet, and for the Potions Master, it was now looking more like a reminder that even amidst the chaos and discomfort it had brought, there were unforeseen opportunities that had arisen as well.
As Severus watched Bert and Ernie leave his apothecary, the Potions Master couldn't help but contemplate the conundrum that had unwillingly entered his life - and wouldn't, for the love of Salazar, leave him be. The Nokia, with its uncanny disruptions and strange and spontaneous 'spexts', had brought unexpected challenges and questions about his reputation, along with the world of magic itself.
Yet, and for the past week, it had been nothing but silent.
While he sorted through the paperwork and orders that the Nuppet brothers were after, Severus couldn't shake the nagging feeling that the malevolent device had more disruptions in store for him, despite its strange silence - if you ignore the comment it had made in order to get rid of that handsy witch the week prior. He'd pondered the newfound usefulness the mysteriously Muggle device had seemingly created in that one act, though was interrupted by the door of his store opening once more and a witch stepped inside.
Severus' heart skipped a beat as he recognised her - the very same young woman who'd broken down in his apothecary after said mobile had delivered a rather scathing remark - and the Potions Master felt a sudden nervousness, wondering what had brought her back.
He hoped that she wasn't going to burst into tears again, and was quick to shove the mobile into his pocket; wrapping it in his modified Muffliato charm as the screen suddenly lit up. Severus was in no mood to deal with a crying witch, nor the words from a device he still couldn't control being spewed and ultimately leading to that end.
No.
Thank.
You.
She came to a stop before the counter, her expression a shy mixture of gratitude and humility, and Severus blinked for a moment.
Gratitude?
"Master Snape," the witch began, her voice earnest and succeeding in drawing the Potions Master from his scrambling thoughts. "I just wanted to thank you for your words. It made me realise something important."
Severus could only raise an eyebrow, silently prompting her to explain her cryptic statement, having no idea as to what she was going on about. He'd long ago given up trying to get people to understand that it wasn't him saying those things, however, and at this moment in time, he grateful that he couldn't speak - that people didn't expect him to.
He really didn't know what he would - could have said.
Taking a deep breath, the young witch continued. "You see, I was in your shop that day because I was looking for a potion to help me start a family. My marriage, while only a few years old, has grown strained, and I thought that having a child would somehow fix things. But when you said what you did, it hit me like a ton of bricks. I realised that it wasn't right to try and bring a child into the world to try and salvage an already failing marriage. So, I'm here to tell you that I'm a free witch now, and I've decided to pursue the apprenticeship I've always wanted. I leave for France tomorrow."
Severus, as stunned as he was by hearing what was coming out of the witch's lips, couldn't help but admire the woman's newfound determination and self-awareness. He nodded in acknowledgment of her words, his eyes conveying a mixture of understanding and approval, and the witch smiled, her gratitude shining in her eyes. She turned to leave but paused for a moment to add, "Thank you, Master Snape. Your words and way of doing things may be a little unconventional, but it helped me find my path."
With the departure of the young witch, Severus Snape was left to contemplate the unusual and unexpected ways in which the Nokia phone had impacted the lives of those it had encountered. As he pulled the mobile out of his pocket, he couldn't help but stare at it. It had become a catalyst for self-discovery and change, a role Severus had never anticipated, and he couldn't help but wonder what other surpri-
"Tom?!"
But before he could dwell further on these musings, the door of his apothecary was suddenly thrown open, and a wildly bushy-haired witch rushed inside. Her eyes were wide with a sense of urgency as she scanned the store.
"Tom?!" she shouted once more, much to the Potions Master's irritation, as the phone in his hand suddenly exclaimed, 'Shit! Bustard,' and whisky-brown eyes turned to him.
Severus' irritation could only deepened at the sudden and unexpected attention, recognising the witch for someone he had not seen in over twenty years, and he scowled at the device, wondering what the bloody hell it had meant by being 'busted'.
The bushy-haired brunette rushed to the counter; her eyes locked onto the mobile with a scowl. "There you are, Tom!" she growled, drawing her wand and aiming it at the phone. "Do you know how long I've spent looking for you, you ancient piece of Muggle trash?"