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riddlelog2017-09-13 10:43 am
fishpetals) wrote in riddlelog2017-09-13 10:43 am
louder than sirens, louder than bells {OPEN}
Who: Lily and you.
What: Apothecary nonsense.
Where: Auturgy.
When: Throughout September.
Warnings: None so far.
From the outside, Auturgy looks like any other apothecary. Anyone who's anyone knows that the brilliant witch inside is one of the best in the business though, and certainly the best in Diagon. The most brilliant witch of her generation, Albus Dumbledore had called her when she was still in Hogwarts, and that shines through now. In any case, the shop's hours are tailor-made for the curfew of a muggle-born witch or wizard but even some of the snobbiest purebloods shop there, having to admit that if they want quality, they have to come here. The inside of the shop is homey, smelling of spice instead of fumes, and the pet bed by the door has in turns a large black dog, a squish-faced orange cat, or both.
There are potions along one wall, ingredients along another, a squat shelf of potions books, and two displays with potion-making tools for sale just in case. Lily brews behind the counter, chirping glass birds sound when you open the door, and while until now she's always worked alone, there are a few new employees that may be tinkering around assisting her and in turn assisting any customers. There are special order forms that can be filled out and the proprietress will get back to you with prices and a time frame as soon as possible.
What: Apothecary nonsense.
Where: Auturgy.
When: Throughout September.
Warnings: None so far.
From the outside, Auturgy looks like any other apothecary. Anyone who's anyone knows that the brilliant witch inside is one of the best in the business though, and certainly the best in Diagon. The most brilliant witch of her generation, Albus Dumbledore had called her when she was still in Hogwarts, and that shines through now. In any case, the shop's hours are tailor-made for the curfew of a muggle-born witch or wizard but even some of the snobbiest purebloods shop there, having to admit that if they want quality, they have to come here. The inside of the shop is homey, smelling of spice instead of fumes, and the pet bed by the door has in turns a large black dog, a squish-faced orange cat, or both.
There are potions along one wall, ingredients along another, a squat shelf of potions books, and two displays with potion-making tools for sale just in case. Lily brews behind the counter, chirping glass birds sound when you open the door, and while until now she's always worked alone, there are a few new employees that may be tinkering around assisting her and in turn assisting any customers. There are special order forms that can be filled out and the proprietress will get back to you with prices and a time frame as soon as possible.
ota + a special bit for snape
But Harry has gotten rather good at keeping his cool and resisting the urge to just stare for minutes on end, still in disbelief that this is real and not a dream. He's even stopped pinching himself every now and then. It'd been a process, but one he can say he'd successfully dealt with.
As it is, Harry can be found wandering the small shop from time to time, straightening bottles, dusting off the counters, tidying up lists. In between those times he'll be helping his mother out at the back of the shop, learning how to brew a certain elixir, or identifying one specific root from another, or he'll be standing by the cash with a readied: ]
Hello. How can I help you?
[ He doesn't notice when, later in the afternoon, a rather familiar figure steps through the door until it's a little too late. And then Harry's blood goes cold, though his heart starts to beat quicker, surged with a sudden rush of adrenaline - or maybe it's just irritation and annoyance. It's his old professor, only he ... doesn't look old at all. ]
no subject
The shop door closes behind him with a soft sound and he says nothing, pausing inside and taking slow stock of the place, in case there are more figures lurking from where he couldn't see from outside. It isn't James, he knows at once. And is that better, or worse? Features muddied, clothes too practical, eyes Albus is always harping on about like it makes a bloody bit of difference, and the most telling-- something about the set of his shoulders. His posture, the sharp look of his attention on Severus. This is not some spoiled pig; either the boy (who lived) has seen hardship with Petunia, as Severus knew he would, or he's another pawn in Dumbledore's war games.
Or both.
Not that it makes any bit of difference. He's still James Potter's son.
A vicious thread of satisfaction coils in him knowing that in this world, the world where Lily misses him and clutches his hand and says I believe you is one where Harry Potter doesn't exist. ]
I don't believe you can, [ on the subject of help.
Severus is far younger than Harry will have last known him, but his features - ehhem - are simply too distinct to ever mistake him for someone else. His voice is still low and smooth, haughty, and black eyes observe Harry with evident, if strangely impersonal, distaste. In this world there was no war, no prophecy, and thus no Harry for Severus Snape to develop a grudge against. He is merely an unfortunate byproduct of some other, irrelevant timeline, washing up on the shores of their sensible one like so much debris. ]
Unless you happen to know the exact moment the proprietress will be back from upstairs.
no subject
I - uh. I can check for you if you'd like.
[ The words taste a little bitter on his tongue. The very last thing he wants is for his mum and Snape to converse. He knows a little bit about the history between them, that Harry's mum knew Snape in her childhood, and that they were actually quite close.
He isn't sure how that could have been possible, only that it was. He attributes this more to Lily Evans' credit than Severus Snape's. ]
no subject
[ The implication being that if he decides Lily's taking long enough for there to be a problem, he'll just go upstairs himself.
Severus makes his way across the shop, gaze idling over the shelves; he wonders if there is a familiar order, something like he does. But the finer details escape him for the moment - his mind too preoccupied keeping all else in order, and keeping clear of more self-indulgent, darker thoughts. (Why does Lily employ her doppelganger's child? Is she so attached to Potter, still? Severus hates the thought of that sentimentality, that potential for yearning. He doesn't wish to see himself in some other, more intimate role-- he knows what he is, what he did-- but Merlin, why Potter.)
He is an inky shadow, offensive angles of his face no better-looking at this young age than in his thirties, drawing closer to the counter and Harry behind it. His clothes are finer in this world than the last, something Severus rolled his eyes at when he opened the wardrobe, but such is this new life. An elevated pure-blood, Minister Riddle's agent. ]
How old are you? [ he asks, hand alighting on the edge of the counter like a spider creeping into the light. ] Not too young to trip an age line and send you to me, I hope. I would hate for Miss Evans to lose an employee.
[ As ever, it is difficult to pinpoint what emotion Professor Snape is presenting. Backhanded friendliness? Subtle threat? Something deliberately enticing and thus deliberately revolting because of it?
There is always a sort of menace. As present as the oil in his hair, or the stains on his nails. ]
no subject
anyway she takes the last couple of steps more slowly than the rest and turns the corner to enter the main area of the shop with an apologetic smile and that ruffled look. ] Severus. I'm sorry, Mordred was being insufferable.
[ in the way of cats that want to be independent until they realize you're leaving and then they want your constant attention, lily's familiar has been demanding her recognition all afternoon.
there's something off about the aura in the room but lily just scrutinizes them both a moment before smiling again and shaking her head. ] Harry, I'm going to need you to watch the shop for the rest of the day and close up for me. I've already spoken with Dean and Neville about the rest of the weekend. I'm going to be working at Hogwarts, but I'll be back Sunday evening. I should have said something earlier, but I was in such a rush today getting ready.
no subject
[ Harry is, indeed, about to respond to Snape's comments, but before he has a chance to get more than a starting sound out, his mum comes down the stairs looking a bit rushed. She starts to explain something to him, something about minding the shop and closing up - which he can do no problem, he's done it before and watched his mum do it several times before that - but it isn't really any of that that bothers him.
No, it's the fact that she's clearly leaving her shop with Snape. She's going to Hogwarts with Snape, one of his least favourite people in the entire world. ]
Yes, sure, of course. No problem. It's just - are you - you're going with -
[ He doesn't want to say him??? but the implication is p r e t t y clear. ]
no subject
oh so helpfully. And then Severus makes a noncommittal noise, absolving her kneejerk apology in a kind of normal human being way that is at once completely uninteresting and absolutely baffling. There is perhaps no one else on earth who he wouldn't glower at for making him wait fifteen seconds - at least no one that Harry's seen him interact with. Ever.
A n y w a y. Besides that, he remains aloof. They are not supposed to be friends, they are not supposed to be conspiring. Severus is here in a professional capacity, because it's his projects that require her temporary presence, because a non-faculty muggle-born needs an escort through the Floo Network, because it's only sensible to be the one to take care of it.
The look he gives her is opaque. Formal. The hesitation before he speaks is so minuscule it would take someone who actually knows him to notice-- ]
If all's in order, let's be on our way.
[ The Leakey Cauldron is still an inexplicable hub of the universe, even in this world, and it's the only non-government building in London that's hooked up to the headmaster's fireplace. Much better than having to go through the Ministry. ]
no subject
anyway. severus plays himself so well that it makes something twist in lily's gut and she swallows once but smiles at harry before nodding. ] Yes. I'll be going with Professor Snape to Hogwarts. I need an escort and he's kindly [ which is hilarious sounding if one considers the idea that he's meant to be the severus that coldly shut out lily evans after hogwarts. ] volunteered for the job.
[ she sighs, rocking on the balls of her feet. ] I won't be gone long, just take special order requests for anything not in stock. I'll make any of it when I get back. If it's an emergency they can go elsewhere. If not, they can wait.
[ a breath and she smiles again, shifting her bag— ] Mordred is set for the weekend, so don't worry about him. Just mind the shop. I'll see you Monday, Harry. [ when she turns toward severus, something curious happens - her hand brushes along his elbow briefly, squeezing before dropping again. it's a split-second but it's there, and to anyone looking that doesn't know her well, it would look like lily's just getting his attention after rambling on to harry. ] Let's go.