riddlelog | louder than sirens, louder than bells {OPEN}

Entry tags:

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Dean was extremely thankful to Harry's mum for offering him a job. Though now that he's working for her, he should probably start thinking of her as Lily, not "Harry's mum." In any event, he's not the best at potions, but he's tall and can thus reach the high shelves better than anyone else can, and he's got good penmanship for labeling potion vials.

His customer service attitude could probably be better, but then he can't help but be shocked at some of Lily's pureblood clients. He does his best not to say anything, though. He just keeps his head down and lets Lily handle the customers who were Death Eaters in his own timeline.

That's what Dean thinks, but Lily is in the back when Lucius steps inside. He looks different from in Dean's time - younger, of course, and hair a warmer blond and far shorter that the long hair he's been told he sports in the future. Some things, of course, are eternal, and Lucius Malfoy has resting snob face that he just...amplifies at the sight of someone who isn't Lily Evans behind the counter.

Who seems more occupied with scribbling down a label than customer service.

"Ahem."

"Sorry!" Dean looks up from his work and is about to ask the customer what he can do for him, when he recognizes who it is. Lucius Malfoy. His hair is shorter, and his face much younger, but that's definitely Draco's dad.

A knot tightens inside Dean's chest, anger roiling when faced with the man who tortured his friends. He glances around, looking for Lily, but the shop owner is nowhere to be found. Taking a deep breath, he returns his attention to Malfoy.

"Can I help you?"

The eyebrow rises higher at the sudden if brief look of simmering anger on the new shop boy's face. He'd wonder what exactly it is he does in the future except it's not likely to be all that different from what he does in the present. Just, perhaps, less in secret.

He smiles mildly at Dean. "Apologies for taking you away from your labeling work," he says in a dry as dust tone that means he's not sorry at all. "I need a few ingredients, if you please." He slides a neatly written list onto the counter. "For the honeywater, Miss Evans knows what I like, but since you're new - it ought be the one brewed from fireweed."

Dean never thought he'd hear Lucius Malfoy say "if you please," least of all to him. He takes the list and looks it over carefully. Alright. He knows what... ninety percent of these things are.

"Yes, of course. Right away. ...Sir." He adds the honorific belatedly, as though he has to forcibly remind himself Lucius is a customer and thus has to be treated with something resembling respect. He comes out from behind the counter and starts gathering the ingredients on the list.

It's the cost of working in a high position in the Ministry. He still has his views, he still considers himself superior to nearly every other witch or wizard, but he has to play along. Which isn't to say that he doesn't look like he smells a bad smell.

"You're new," he says. It's like conversation.

Dean's hand hesitates for half a second, midst-reach for a vial on a high shelf. He can feel Lucius' eyes on him through the back of his head, and it's unsettling, to say the least. He recovers quickly, however, plucking the vial off the shelf and moving to collect the next thing on the list.

"I am. Just displaced." He turns his head to offer Lucius the most benign smile he can muster. "Registered last week."

He doesn't know why his gaze should be unsettling; while he has no liking for, well, anyone who doesn't fit a particular subset of characteristics, really, he puts on a good show. He likes to think he puts on a good show.

"Ah, from the future," he says. There's a slight half-smile; it's probably even more distressing. "The past has a certain identifiable style. Most of you seem to come from the future, anyway." Except Dumbledore.

And half of the Founders.

The problem is that Dean knows what he's capable of. He proved that much when he let the Death Eaters use his house as a private dungeon and torture chamber.

"That's me." Man from the future. A future without Death Eaters. A future he longed to get back to.

Dean's so distracted by trying not to give Lucius any reason to suspect him of any wrongdoing, he forgets which honeywater he'd said he wanted, and grabs the wrong bottle.

He could guess as much; as much from the reaction he garners as from what Scorpius has reluctantly told him. Still, it's not any skin off Lucius' nose, and he shrugs a bit.

At least until Dean sets the potions and ingredients in front of him and he picks up the honeywater. "This is wrong," he says, and it's one of those deceptively mild tones that tends to send a shiver down most people's tones. "Fireweed honeywater. This is..." He wrinkles his nose. "Orange blossom. It won't work."

Dean flinches. "Yes, of course. You've said. Sorry, sir." He plucks the orange blossom honeywater bottle back, and rushes to collect the right bottle instead.

"Here you are, fireweed. Sorry about that, sir. I'll just... package that all up for you."

"Most appreciated." There's a faintly annoyed note in his voice, overlaid with the politeness who has been raised to use manners as a weapon. At the same time, his gray eyes glint with something like sadistic amusement. The ones from the future seem to eye him - probably Bella as well - with a trepidation he's not entirely accustomed to. Don't mistake him, there are ministry officials in Riddle's inner circle who engender the same thing from natives of his time. He's just not one of them.

He pulls out a small pouch of galleons from the depths of his robes and taps it lightly on the counter as Dean wraps his items.

This customer isn't a Death Eater. This customer is a friendly face, if one a little bruised and pale. This customer is one Luna Lovegood, rake thin and tired but entirely pleased to be walking into Autugry to find someone she knows. It had made not being overwhelmed easier, knowing she was heading out to meet someone so close to her time.

So she's smiling softly when she enters the Apothecary, tugging down her sleeves instinctively as she approaches the other displaced.

"Hullo, Dean."

Dean looks up when the birds chime the arrival of a new customer, and a massive grin breaks out across his face when he sees who that customer is.

"Luna!" He drops whatever it was he was working on and rushes around the counter to greet her. He knows when it is she came in from, and he's sad to say he recognizes that 'I just survived being tortured by Death Eaters' look on her face. He's glad to see she's still smiling, though. That's something he admires about her.

"It's good to see you. I think I've got that dreamless sleep potion around here somewhere..."

She can't help but smile just hint more broadly at Dean's grin. It's still no large thing, but it's a strengthened smile, and it's nice enough for her to feel on her own lips.

"It's wonderful to see you, as well," she replies, approaching all the closer as he rounds the corner, "And I'm so glad you're working here. I really was hoping I'd be able to find a way to get some proper sleep. Nightmares are awful things-- I imagine you must understand. I'd really rather find a stone with some Luzplick bug essence on it, but I imagine a potion'll do in a pinch."

He does understand, so he walks over to the shelves where the pre-brewed potions are kept, and searches for a moment before picking up the one he was looking for. "Here it is."

He brings it back to the counter and starts packaging it up for her.

"Dunno how it'll compare to your... bug essence... but it should help you sleep."

After making her way to McKinnon's, Hermione heads straight to Auturgy. Harry has told her all about his Mum being there, of course. And she can't wait to meet her. And also pick up quite a few ingredients for a brand new batch of Polyjuice... she's fairly sure they're going to need it. Especially without the invisibility cloak around.

She's a bit nervous about meeting Harry's mum, if she's honest. She's always heard wonderful things about her from everyone. And of course she wants to make sure she's making a good impression.

With a deep breath, she pushes the door to the shop open and glances up at the sound of the birds, smiling softly at that. But a moment later she turns her attention to the woman behind the counter and recognizes her immediately. She seems focused on her potion making so Hermione approaches quietly.

"Hm, hello."

Part of Lily's reasoning for taking Harry on for a job is self-serving - she knows that he's not going to register (partially at her behest) and she'd like to be able to keep an eye on him in the meantime. Just in case. She'd rather not this alternate-timeline son that she hasn't had slip through her fingers somehow and especially not because he's gotten arrested and tossed into Azkaban.

Anyway it means that Harry's contemporaries have been popping in and once that gets clarified it will make a whole lot of sense but for now the tinkle of birdsong doesn't elude her - it never does, however her one moment must have been too quiet to be noticed because the polite hello is enough to startle her and once Lily gets to the point where she can pause she turns toward the counter, smiling and resting her elbows on the surface.

"Hello! Sorry about that, it's a finicky potion that can't just be paused any old time. How can I help you?"

"Oh, it's alright," Hermione assures her instantly, smiling still as she approaches the counter. She glances toward the cauldron then focuses on Lily once again.

"I'm just looking for a bit of Knotgrass," she explains. Which just happens to be the most common ingredient in the potion but she doesn't want to spook Lily or give herself away too quickly. Just to be safe.

"Are you Lily Evans?" She knows the answer of course, but it's polite to ask.

"Thank you for being understanding," Lily says anyway, nodding to the request. "Knotgrass then, if you'd please!"

This isn't directed at Hermione - it's directed toward the rows of drawers to Hermione's left and Lily's right. Heeding her command, one of the drawers pops out of place and makes its way through the air until it can land on the counter and skid to a stop against Lily's hand that she's put up to make sure it didn't keep going. "Knotgrass drawer barely behaves," she explains, "how much did you need?"

The inquiry gives her pause though and the redhead's eyebrows loft slightly before she nods. "That's me. Were you looking for me specifically?"

"Two bundles, please." Hermione watches as the drawer lands safely then blushes a little at her following questions.

"I'm Hermione Granger," she introduces. If Lily were someone else, she would omit her last name but she trust one of her best friend's mum. "I'm a friend of Harry's."

"Two bundles," Lily confirms softly, removing two from the drawer and setting them on the counter before turning her attention to more important things at hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Hermione." A half-blood or muggle-born like her too, at that. At least judging by her name - that doesn't matter to Lily though, who just smiles. "I'm happy to see any friend of Harry's." Her expression dips a little more sly after that, arms crossing over her chest.

"Dare I ask then if there's another reason you need to see me?" It's almost teasing.

"What?" Hermione laughs quietly and shakes her head. "No. No, I just-- he was so excited that you're here and we've all heard so much about you from the Professors at Hogwarts. I just felt like I should introduce myself," she explains.

"Professor Slughorn said you were a brilliant potions maker," she adds, glancing at the cauldron again.

Remus enters the little shop, the familiar chirping of the birds drawing up a smile. He pauses in the doorway to give a demanding Mordred a good chin-scratch, then looks around the little shop, for once not looking for Lily herself, not that he'd mind seeing her of course. He's been curious about the apparent flock of young boys she's hired, and one in particular that she'd excitedly told him about not two days before.

Lily and James' son. That's someone he has to meet.

[ Well, Remus, it's your lucky day.

Because Harry just so happens to be working a shift in the shop right now, not that he actually doesn't show up for work every day since he'd been hired, but - you know. He's here. Working.

At this moment in time, he's reading through a list of ingredients he'd been asked to sort and lay out in alphabetical order. It's a new shipment of strange things, roots and tubers and leaves and essential oils, many of which he'd actually never even heard of before.

The sound of the chirping birds gets him to look up and he offers the newcomer a smile -- right up until Harry's pleasant expression veers into recognition and surprise. ]

Professor Lupin. [ Beat. ] Er - I mean, Remus. Hello.

[Lily was right- he is instantly recognizable. Just like James, and as he gets closer, he sees he's inherited Lily's eyes.

Apparently he's been recognized as well, and Remus is still absolutely thrown by that title.] Harry, I assume? Lily told me about you.

[James and Sirius, presumably, are just forgetful in that way.] So I was your teacher as well? Seems nearly every Displaced person I speak to calls me that.

Edited (copypasting went wrong lmao) 2017-10-01 18:43 (UTC)

[ Harry is one of those new employees helping to tinker and assist where necessary. He's never been the best at potions by any means, and Professor Snape can attest to that (with glee, he's sure) but if it means getting an opportunity to watch (over) his mum and generally revolve around her presence in a way that isn't contrived and out-of-place, then this is the way to do it. He'd known something of how skilled and smart his mum had been back at Hogwarts but seeing it in person gives him a whole new perspective on it. He admires his mother so much more than he'd ever thought possible.

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. ]

[ He thinks it's James at first, of course. Severus is too on guard to let himself react outwardly, but the internal twitch of anger upon thinking so is powerful. He's of half a mind to keep walking, but he told Lily when he'd arrive, and wandering around Diagon Alley like a jackass will look a dozen times more suspicious than Professor Snape visiting an apothecary. Pale fingers curl around the handle. Fine.

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.

[ That swirling pit of irritation and annoyance simmers hot in the pit of his stomach, a low but very much felt burn that he can't quite dispel, not with the hard swallow of his saliva and not with the deep breath he takes when he straightens his spine and offers the younger-than-he-remembers man a small, slightly forced smile of politeness. ]

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. ]

That won't be necessary.

[ 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. ]

[ there's a gap long enough for harry to reply but it isn't much longer before lily comes down the stairs. it will become patently clear to harry that this isn't just a shopping trip or a social visit - lily is leaving the shop, judging by the fact that she has a satchel with her. (enlarged on the inside of course, she's not going to cart a giant bag to hogwarts just to make sure she can change her clothes over the weekend.) she looks a little harried as though she finished up getting ready in a rush, her hair in a messy bun held in place with her wand and some hopeful wishing (and magic).

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.

I -

[ 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. ]

Professor Snape, [ is provided

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. ]

[ lily can't even apologize for apologizing; she makes a face at herself internally—this timeline's severus had let her apologize whenever anything went off in their correspondence and so it's taking some getting used to for her to not say i'm sorry whenever appropriate.

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

louder than sirens, louder than bells {OPEN}

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

September 5

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

September 5

no subject

no subject

ota + a special bit for snape

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject