"You resign?" Flitwick gaped, although truthfully he was somewhat relieved. Don't get him wrong, he considered the man a friend... but he really was a terrible teacher.
Severus smirked, in the subtle way he reserved for his friends. "Saves you the trouble of firing me." Flitwick blushed, though Snape continued without malice. "I have no patience for children, and am completely inept at teaching. The only reason I'm here is because I swore an oath of service to Albus. Now that he's dead, I'm free of it."
Albus thought he would win the duel easily, and so had given Snape no orders to complete after his death. Which meant the young potions master had no more magical chains to the man's will... He could, at last, live his own life...
"Even if you don't teach," Flitwick enticed. "We could still keep you on staff as a Potions Master."
Snape smiled, enjoying the idea of devoting himself purely to his passion... but not here. "There are too many sour memories for me here. I'm considering washing my hands of Magical Britain all together... maybe move my house to New London. They are far more accepting of half bloods there. And it might be nice to see muggle movies again. Haven't seen one since I was 10." He looked dreamily out the window. At the miles of wizarding shops and manors. Which now surrounded the Hogwarts grounds.
"Once I'm settled, I'll owl you. You can send me a list of potions you need brewing, and I'll give you the bulk friends discount."
Flitwick sighed with relief. "Thank you Severus. You might be a rubbish professor, but a finer potions master, there has never been."
That was the truth of it. Severus had completed his Mastery at 17. Something that takes most wizards a hundred years. He was a genius, who knew how high he would have arose, without Dumbledore holding him back... nor the Dark Lord before him.
Severus had been a confused and angry child, when he fell prey to the Dark Lord's silver tongue... and a desperate man, looking for an out, when he went to Dumbledore. Both men had shackled him, as little more then their slave.
He had always been quick to anger. And the last 12 years had done nothing to calm that. He had little patience... and Potter... that little boy had acted so much like Lily... while wearing James face... it hurt to be around him.
"I think I'll take you up on that offer." Snape looked down at his arm, and pulled up his sleeve. Eying the magical brand that shackled him, the Dark Mark.
Flitwick smiled, happy his friend was ready to leave all scars of his old life behind. The Half Goblin never understood what Albus had on his friend... but he knew enough that Sev wasn't here willingly.
"I'll get in touch with my contacts," By that he meant the Goblins he grew up with. Goblins were a tight net culture. Literally everyone knew everyone.
Flitwick's own Mother had been a Goblin Ally, a witch respected and awed by their society. So naturally, her child, although a half breed, was treated with a certain amount of respect. The Goblins often relied on him, to act as the go between with the Wizards... and took pains to get him in Hogwarts, some 500 years ago.
Flitwick didn't have a Goblins longevity, but he was incredibly old by Wizard standards.
Noticing Severus was still staring, at the shame of his youth ill spent.
Flitwick sighed, stepping next to his friend. "Soon you'll be rid of it, and will finally be able to move on."
The procedure to remove the curse mark was not painless... and normally not even done.
Goblins believed Death Eaters should suffer for their sins. However, as a favor to Flitwick, they removed the wretched thing... Although didn't bother to do anything for the pain the Wizard must endure, to see it done.
They also charged him 300 galleons, that's easily three years worth of pay... but were disappointed, when Flitwick paid half of it.
Next Snape had his home moved to New London.
They hadn't established borders yet, so magicals frequently crossed into the other nations. With land being on a "Finders Keepers" basis.
They had to obey the unique laws, while in each city state, but there was no form of "Citizenship papers". Anyone could live anywhere, for most magicals anyway. Although most prefered to live on the deck, devoted to their specific species. The environment was crafted to their needs and comforts, after all.
This estate was heavily populated, by a frighteningly large number of unwed Half-Bloods, but it also had many smaller families, with little to no extended members. Mostly due to their magical parent being burnt off the family tree, for daring to marry a muggle or muggle-born.
Then again, in the muggle world, Familial ties didn't seem as important. Outside the immediate members, that is. The extended family included grandparents, and potentially nieces and nephews... but distant cousins weren't normally spoken to, as they were in the Wizarding World.
Regardless, Snape did not move his house into the Half-Bloods' Estate. He chose, instead, to settle at the edge of the City. Not in any Estate, but just plopped on a lonely peace of land, far away from everyone.
The City actually set up a Floo Hub, near his house, just so it be easier for him to get into town... which, after his potions company took off, the beings from other levels took full advantage of the nearby floo hub.
The Council of New London, gave Spinners End, Severus humble home... 5 Acres of land. As well as granting him their promised Lordship, and 100,000 galleons. Which was nearly 6 million pounds... that Snape decided to devote purely into his trade.
He went to the Dryad and bought his own private Potions Farm. Similar to the ones the cities had. Growing every potions ingredient imaginable. Then went to the magical creatures breeders. Buying a, bigger on the inside, barn filled with beast necessary for potions... or, at least, the non-violent ones.
He turned his land into a large farm, dedicated to potions.
From there, he approached the other members of the council, and requested buying an estate. Not for himself, but for freed House Elves. That way they could have somewhere to live, while they were waiting to be accepted by a new family.
Although he had the ulterior motive, of having those willing, work his farm. The Council still gave their approval, when he said he was going to pay the ones willing to work it.
He specifically approached elves that would work for money, instead of being bound. As those elves were less likely to be adopted... and were looked down on by other elves.
While the other elves lived in a safe area, all of the city state knew about, awaiting families to come and adopt them... Which many of the muggle-borns took advantage of. Once word got around, Freed Elves, from all over the moon, moved into this Estate.
Snape even went so far, as to pay for any elf, willing to work for him, to have access to Goblin Tomes. Gaining Newt level knowledge in: herbology, Care of magical Creatures, and of course potions.
Within a Month, Snape's potion Empire was known by all magical beings. While the Pure-bloods may have stuck up their noses, at the idea of actually paying elves, the other beings were intrigued by a staff of all freed elves. And they bought their potions.
He found he needed those elves tending the farm, well brewing the thousands of potions...
Soon there after, Snape wrote up a will. Leaving everything to the elves. After all, he had no family to speak of. And the muggleborns weren't against the future lord of his house... being an elf.
He chose the elf he already had, as both Head Elf, and future Lord.
Mynnie had been a gift to his mother, after his father died. Snape had bought the elf to care for the stubborn old witch, who refused to admit she needed help. The elf had been the isolated woman's only friend. And Snape inherited her after his mother died.
Mynnie was a great friend, and deserved something after Snape died. Although Mynnie didn't like the idea of not having a master, and kept insisting snape have a child, or at least adopt a ward... so Sev, snarkily, did something, technically against the law in Magical Britain. But that he got permission for in New London.
He allowed the elves to brew their elve children, themselves, taking elf reproduction outside the hands of Wizards.
Soon after, a law was passed, within New London, that all Elves within the city, were allowed to brew other Elves, and had legal rights over the children, as their own offspring.
It also became illegal, for masters to order their elves against brewing children... Unfortunately... this resulted in many singular elves, brewing a dozen elf kids at once. Another law was passed that an elf could only have 1 child, at a time. But elf couples were allowed to brew an additional third.
All that happened within a week, as things had gotten out of hand quickly. Given how excitable house elves are, they wanted as many kids as possible... many of those elves were disowned, as most Wizards didn't have the necessary magical reserves to feed all those elves.
Snape decided to employ all the families that would accept... every single one... Which got him knighted.
It wasn't like Snape intended to do anything outwardly noble. In all honesty, he was just trying to clean up his own mess. Given it was his fault the elves could reproduce so quickly.
And giving them a paycheck of 10 galleons a month, was just enough to live on, while occasionally treating themselves. It's what most wizards made.
It wasn't like he couldn't afford it. And the additional elves brewing, made it so he was producing even more potions... which made him insanely rich...
Unfortunately, he didn't have all the ingredients he needed. Not for the more complex brews. He needed to reach out to the hunters.
Snape did his best not to sneer, as he sat in the dining room / kitchen, of Malcolm Reynolds' ship. It was roughly a week after the elves Fiasco. And he quickly realized he needed more then the apothecary could give him.
He needed to contact the hunters directly... and the guardian to the Potter spawn was the best.
Mal looked thoughtful... yes, he had problems with what Harry said this man put him through... but he was a business man. If he had issue working with scum bags, he wouldn't have done so much business with Badger. So long as this man made good on his word, Mal would oblige.
"Ya sure ya can get my crew more tags?" Mal asked.
Snape scoffed, "Potion companies have priority when it comes to tags. If you can handle the workload, I can easily get you 10 times the average tag allowance. On the condition you sell the carcasses to me."
Mal tapped his finger, on the table. "I'll sell half of it to you. The Apothecary's still needs their own goods."
"80%" Snape negotiated.
"60%" Mal allowed.
Snape thought on it. He could easily go 70, but could see were they would end up. "65% with you rounding up to the nearest, whole, body."
Mal thought a moment, "Deal, on the condition you pay the standard fair for each creature I bring. No negotiating me down, after I deliver them."
Snape allowed himself to sneer, "Like I'd cheat you."
Mal didn't backdown, "You have a reputation."
Snape rolled his eyes, thinking what this man must have heard from the Potter Spawn. "Ask around the Apothecaries and Hunter Guilds. I might not like children, but I'm always fair with my partners." He pulled out his wand, and aimed it at the ceiling. Mal was ready to shoot him if the wand so much tilted in his direction. "I agree to your terms, so long as you agree to mine. So Mote it be." Wizard oaths, at least the simple ones, were more based on intent, then the words.
There was a pulse of magic, and Mal recognized a magically binding oath, from his half a year living on this rock.
"Warlocks can't do that," Mal grunted.
Snape rolled his eyes, as if he already knew that, "I'm aware. I'll just have to trust you at your word."
Mal gave a hesitant nod, Before holding out his hand, "A gentlemen's agreement."
Snape did his best not to sigh, at the muggle way of "Sealing the deal", but all the same, he shook the appendage.