Snape In Love: Chasing Darkness Away

Chapter 13

Exhilaration

Ella hardly knew how she and her husband had come to be returned to their rooms. Her physical reactions first to Severus' heart-warming interactions with their daughter and then his subsequent reminiscences about their lovemaking had left her breathless and craving a more intimate touch than he would give outside the sanctum that was their suite of rooms. Consequently, when the family had encountered Professor McGonagall in the Entrance Hall Ella had accepted her offer to "...Show little Persephone the pretty new Orrery in Professor Sinistra's classroom" with an alacrity that had earned a raised eyebrow from her husband, followed by dawning comprehension and a smug smile. It was soon agreed that Professor McGonagall would look after her small charge until dinner that evening, and so Ella and Severus had the luxury of over two hours alone.

By the time the dungeon door had swung shut behind them Ella had lifted her thin summer dress over her head and tossed it on to a chair, and now she turned to her husband and wrapped her arms around his neck impatiently.

"Make love to me!" she urged before pulling his head down to claim his lips. To her intense irritation, he spluttered with laughter and placed his hands on her waist, pushing her from him a little so that he could look down at her.

"My, my, we are in a hurry, aren't we?" he teased.

"I've been listening to your own particular brand of verbal foreplay for more than an hour, I hardly think you can accuse me of being in a hurry now!" she complained.

"Verbal foreplay? Hmm!"

"You know what your voice does to me! And to hear you use it to describe - to describe - "

"To describe...the way your breast feels as it rubs against my chest? The noises of frustration you make when I don't... quite...touch you in the right place?"

She moaned as he slipped his hand around her waist until his long fingers could trail down and brush the nest of curls at the juncture of her thighs.

"The way you make me thirst to taste you?"

His voice had dropped to a low, husky whisper and she sank forward into his arms as his fingers delved between her legs.

"Severus....!"

He began to stroke her gently, in and out, murmuring over her soft cries as he continued,

"And let's not forget the way you feel when I'm deep inside you..."

Ella made an incoherent gurgling noise and he grinned ferally, slipping his fingers from her and picking her up, reaching their bed in a few easy strides. He tossed her on to the bed unceremoniously while muttering a hasty

"Divestio!" and joined her there before she had the chance to complain.

It just kept on getting better, he reflected as he moved rhythmically above her, gazing down into her eyes and then leaning down to nuzzle behind her ear in the way he knew made the small of her back tingle. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, and he could not suppress a satisfied

"Hmph!" as she breathed his name into his ear, the heat of her breath sending similar signals down to the base of his own spine. He felt the familiar tingling in his lower abdomen and began a circular motion that made his wife sob out his name and thrust her hips up to meet his. He had expected such a reaction, and as her climax built until he knew her release was imminent, he took his weight on his elbows, freeing his hands so that they could stroke her damp hair from her face and cup her cheeks, fixing his gaze on her as she came, letting himself go, on and on as their eyes locked, her sobbing his name over and over, he groaning

"Ella! Oh, my Ella! Gods, Ella!"

Only when it was all over did he kiss her lips and roll from her, pulling her along with him so that she lay curled into him and he around her.

************************************************************

Snape had been amazed, over subsequent weeks, at how happy and hopeful one man could be. Ella had tried to assert herself that first evening after his discharge from the Infirmary, and much to his perturbation, he had almost allowed it. They had arrived late for dinner and the Great Hall had been full. Albus had insisted on making an announcement about how happy everybody must be to see their Potions master restored to health, and he had noticed Poppy Pomfrey's arch expression, glaring at her irritably and suspecting that she would be keeping a close eye on his recovery. He had not expected Ella to be party to any conspiracy to force him to rest, when he would admit to no-one but himself that he needed it , but as the Hall was emptying at the end of dinner she had the gall to turn to him and say,

"You look tired. You need to rest. Madam Pomfrey doesn't look pleased with you at all."

Severus nodded in agreement. He was tired, it was true, and he greatly looked forward to a good night's sleep in his own bed, with Ella's loving warmth wrapped all around him.

"Get a good night's sleep, and I'll see you in the morning."

"What?" What on earth could she be thinking? "Wait a minute, where are you going?" he asked, indignant.

"Well, back to my rooms, of course," she shrugged, as if she was being perfectly reasonable and he was a somewhat dull-witted child.

"Of course?" he repeated, outraged, gripping her arm. "Listen to me. The only place you're going is back to my rooms with me. Understand? I don't intend to spend the night alone, and I'm surprised you find the prospect so appealing!"

"Severus, you're hurting me, and you can stop talking to me as if I'm one of your students. Go to bed, I'll still be here when you wake up tomorrow, Now, goodnight." She reached up to kiss him briefly then turned on her heel and actually walked away from him. He watched, speechless with surprise, as she left the Great Hall without a backward glance. He was dimly aware of two of the banes of his life sniggering behind him, but he was far too annoyed to waste his breath on Lupin and Black. He left by the doorway to the dungeons, muttering darkly that he would not allow her to get the upper hand.

His resolve lasted for approximately half an hour, during which time he had variously paced his room, gone to the corridor, removed his robe, donned it again, made to go out again, and cursed a good deal. At last, he locked and warded the door and set off along the corridor. She might be prepared to spend the night without him, but there was no way he intended to spend it without her.

His anger faded as he ascended through the castle until he reached the hospital wing, and by the time he reached her door it had been replaced with a gnawing need for her company, despite her apparent indifference to his feelings. He scoffed at himself. She had reduced him to this, and he had allowed it, and as he entered her room and saw her silently sleeping, he admitted ruefully that he would probably allow it again. He undressed without making a sound, slipping into bed beside her and sighing as he buried his face in the hair that lay across her pillow. She snuggled back into him and he embraced her, letting his hand cover her breast. Thus comforted, he slept.

His bad temper reasserted itself with a vengeance when he woke the following morning to find himself alone in a strange bed, with her side of it cold. The note she had left him on the pillow did nothing to improve his disposition. It was brief, saying simply,

"Gone to breakfast, didn't want to disturb you. See you there, love E xxx"

She assumed too much. She expected that he would simply follow her blindly, fall in with her plans, do as she instructed. He would not be treated in so cavalier a manner. He stalked into the Great Hall in a flurry of swishing robes and scraped back his chair angrily.

"Is this how it's going to be?" he spat at her. "My chasing you all over the school like a lovesick fool, never knowing whether or not you'll be there when I wake up?"

Ella did not even look abashed.

"I don't know, Severus, how would you like it to be?"

"I want you to come with me to the dungeons. Now! Unless you think I need more sleep!"

"You look very well rested to me, love."

"Then will you come?"

Oh, he was undone. With a delicately raised eyebrow and a curve of her lip, she leaned over until her mouth brushed against his hair, and her siren song made him as hard as granite within seconds as she whispered,

"As often as you want to make me...just as soon as I've finished my breakfast."

And she did come as often as he wanted to make her, which was frequently. Over the next few weeks they were apart only during lessons, which he delivered with his usual professionalism but which found him in a foul temper, for when he was teaching he was not with her and ached to be. He still suffered from nightmares, but learned that her arms were always there, warm and welcoming, and the terrors were tempered when he lay in her embrace. He even felt a swell of pride at Black's jibes and Lupin's gentle teasing, for he had Ella's love and wanted to shout it from the top of the Astronomy Tower.

One day in early December he had woken before she, and lay spooned around her back with one hand cupping a soft, warm breast. He shifted against her, enjoying the way his early morning erection pressed into her thigh but in no particular hurry to do anything about it, and let his mind wander contentedly where it would. He looked forward to many more mornings like these, and once they were married his happiness would be guaranteed. His eyes snapped open at the thought. It was, of course, the next logical step. He was simply surprised to find himself secure enough - contented enough - to make such an assumption. He was not a young man. He had spent years alone, and not simply because he had chosen to. He still scarcely believed that he had found someone seemingly willing to overlook all his faults and many misdemeanours, and to simply love him for who, and what, he was.

He frowned. She did not truly know all that he was, or all that he had done. If he told her, what then? Would she still want him? Could she still love him? His erection wilted rapidly as he realised that he did not want to run the risk of finding out. He had opened himself up to her, body and soul, in a way that he had never done with anyone before, but dark corners remained and he was not ready to offer all of it up to her scrutiny. Better just to love her, and be loved in return, and thank the Fates for bringing her to him.

A sudden greying of the sky drew his eye to the window. Heavy clouds had covered the sun, and he caught a glimpse of snow as the first flakes tapped gently on the diamond leaded panes. It would be Christmas soon, he realised. He would be spending this one with Ella. He would be happy. He realised with sudden alarm that he would need to buy her a gift.

It would have to be something deeply personal and symbolic, he understood that. He had witnessed far too many Christmas Day tantrums from remaining female students or members of staff, whose partners had been complacent enough to offer a less appropriate gift than the object of their affection felt she merited. He did not relish the prospect of incurring Ella's displeasure, worse still any disguised disappointment. He frowned thoughtfully.

She woke soon after, stretching her legs languorously and arching back into him, reaching her arm round behind her head to fumble for his cheek. He caught her hand and kissed her palm, then nuzzled her hair, murmuring,

"Good morning."

"Mmph. Morning."

Conversation was never at its most sparkling when they first woke up, but fortunately actions could often speak louder than words, and she wriggled until she was facing him, with her legs wrapped around his. She looked up into his eyes with a sleepy smile, and he kissed each eyelid in turn. The room had darkened as the snow fell more thickly, and so the green of her eyes this morning was the grey-green of a stormy sea. He gazed into their depths for a while, stroking her cheek with his thumb as his hand rested in her hair. There was always something new to see in her eyes, he mused. Always some new combination of colours to note, and to file away in his memory. A sunny day would find them golden and dancing, while passion would darken them. Even a dull and stormy day would exhibit its violent beauty to pleasing effect, when reflected in her eyes.

Emeralds, he thought suddenly. He would buy her emeralds.

***

Trying to dissuade her from accompanying him to Diagon Alley a few days later was a challenging test of his powers of persuasion. He had been circumspect in his reason for the excursion, unwilling to give her the slightest inkling of the true reason for his trip, but she appeared to be undeterred, telling him that she would have a wonderful time completing her Christmas shopping. Even when he hinted that a necessary visit to the Ministry of Magic, to deliver by hand a letter from Dumbledore to Kingsley Shacklebolt, might take up a good part of his day, she simply said,

"That's okay. I keep telling you, I can keep myself busy!

In the end, he had only one card still hidden up his sleeve, and he played it with a vehemence that cowed her.

"Ella, it wouldn't be prudent! The Dark Lord has spies everywhere and he must know by now of my miraculous escape from the jaws of death! He doesn't like to be thwarted. He will seek vengeance. And I have - business to attend to."

She was silent for a few moments as his words sank in, and he began to breathe more easily, but then she said,

"Business, yes, you said. At the Ministry."

"Yes, with Kingsley Shacklebolt."

"From the Order?"

"Yes, Order business. Not that the Ministry knows that, of course."

"So, it's safe there! I'll be fine, I can wait for you in the foyer, it couldn't be safer! Then we can go to Diagon Alley together!"

"Yes, but, I could be there for hours! We're going round in circles, Ella, you can't come and that's all there is to it!"

Ella remained unconvinced and Snape found himself floundering, unable to sustain a cogent argument and dissemble at the same time. It was most trying, the way she had of rendering his finely honed skills completely useless.

"Well I still think you're being very secretive!"

He glanced up at her but her expression was teasing and curious, not suspicious or judgemental. It was clear that she had no idea of his intent. Eventually, after more argument, it was agreed more or less to their mutual satisfaction that they would set off for the main gates together, and then Apparate to the Ministry of Magic, where Snape would arrange for one of the Order, an Auror called Tonks, to accompany Ella to Diagon Alley. She and Snape would each conduct their business and would meet in the snug of the Leaky Cauldron at a prearranged time. It was not an ideal arrangement, from his point of view at any rate, but she had left him little choice, short of telling her the truth, and he had no intention of doing that.

He selected a heavy black travelling cloak from his cavernous wardrobe. The weather had become noticeably cooler over the previous few days and although he knew that London would no doubt be enjoying temperatures several degrees warmer than the Scottish Highlands, still he wanted to be prepared for any inclement conditions, and he strongly urged Ella to do the same. She had smiled to herself and he had the notion that she was agreeing simply to humour him. He frowned. It was bad enough that she should insist on complicating what should have been a simple excursion to the finest dwarfish jewellers in Diagon Alley, turning it into an expedition requiring an almost military precision, and now here she was again, obviously determined to do exactly as she pleased despite his better judgement. He opened his mouth to complain about her blithe attitude, but closed it again abruptly as he realised a truth he had been trying to escape.

She had unmanned him. He was in her thrall. To all intents and purposes, emasculated. And he had allowed it, encouraged it, welcomed it. The question was, what did he intend to do about it? She turned to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, squeezing tight. Surprised, he stroked her hair and they held each other close. Her voice was muffled as she spoke into the folds of his cloak.

"What? What did you say?"

She lifted her head, her eyes shining.

"I said, you make me feel so safe! I feel so- so cared for, so cherished!"

"Well, you are!"

"I love you, Severus."

"Yes, I know. And I love you, too."

"My winter cloak's still in my room. We'll get it on the way."

He bent over her to kiss her tenderly. Perhaps he did not need to do anything, except to love her.

Nevertheless, he appreciated that there was much about him that she appeared to accept on blind faith alone, and while he could not comprehend why, he knew that he did not want her to delve too deeply into his past activities lest she decide his soul was too black and too damaged. Inconvenient though it was, perhaps his long term interests would be better served by allowing her this victory. The battle could still be won, if he acted wisely.

Previously, he had been used to making the long walk down to the front gates of Hogwarts with only his thoughts or apprehensions for company. Now, Ella was by his side and he was about to lavish more money on a gift for her than he earned in months. There was exuberance in his step and he had to force himself to slow his pace to fall in with hers. Once they reached the gates they were able to apparate to Diagon Alley and Ella wrapped her arms firmly around his waist once more, disliking the disembodied sensation of apparition, and he enfolded her in his travelling cloak with a surge of protectiveness and affection.

An instant later they were standing in a windswept London street with scraps of paper and litter whirling and eddying around their feet and an unremarkable old fashioned red telephone box only a few feet away. Keeping his arm around her shoulders the couple walked to the telephone box and went inside, and Ella giggled as the lack of space forced her back into his arms as he lifted the battered old receiver. Identifying themselves to the receptionist, they descended slowly into the Ministry of Magic, sharing a private kiss that Snape vaguely thought would have to last him the whole day, until he saw her again.

A slightly built figure dressed in baggy Muggle clothing, sporting a shock of spiky pink hair, leapt from her seat in the large marble foyer as she saw them approach. She began to wave, and strode forward purposefully, but then tripped over the laces of her fashionable Muggle trainers and fell flat on her face.

"Er...is that Tonks?" Ella asked dubiously, having been apprised of the young Auror's near legendary clumsiness.

"However did you guess?" he answered dryly as Tonks got to her feet and stood precariously on one leg as she tried to fasten her lace.

"Hello Snape!" she said, hopping towards them and causing Snape to back away a few steps, shielding Ella with an outstretched arm.

"Tonks. This is Ella Redemte, my...er..."

"Girlfriend? Lover? Madwoman?" Tonks grinned, standing up straight at last and extending a hand towards Ella, whose hesitant smile widened as she shook it.

Snape flicked his gaze between the two women and sighed. He had not wanted to frighten Ella by allowing her to witness his conversation with Tonks the previous evening, and the vehemence with which he had impressed upon Tonks the importance of her keeping her few wits about her while Ella was in her charge. He wished he could remind Tonks of his exacting standards now, but a nervous glance from Tonks' violet eyes told him that he probably did not need to. Snape turned to Ella and gazed at her intently, touching her arm tenderly and murmuring a soft goodbye before turning abruptly and heading off down the room towards the lifts. As he waited for the lift attendant to open the inner doors he turned his head and looked back to see Ella lift her arm in a small wave, and he wished that he had kissed her goodbye.

His appointment with Shacklebolt was brief, and he declined the older man's offer of luncheon in the Ministry's canteen, admitting with a self-deprecating gesture that he had some purchases to make in readiness for the coming Yuletide celebrations. Shacklebolt laughed heartily and clapped him on the back, but the contact was brief and Snape managed not to flinch.

Upon his arrival at Diagon Alley he had made directly for Gringotts. Months had passed since he had last needed to withdraw money from his vault, and his unexpected appearance in the spacious marbled foyer sent several clerks scurrying to an office room behind the long counters, in search of the chief cashier, Griphook. By the time Snape had reached the counter at the far end of the bank, Griphook was sitting behind it at his station, with a stare that, by goblin standards, passed for respectful and welcoming.

"Professor Snape."

"Griphook."

"How may Gringotts be of service today?"

"I wish to visit my vault, to make a withdrawal."

The goblin inclined his head respectfully and snapped his fingers. A junior associate appeared at his side instantly, and gestured for Snape to follow him down a short corridor to a small track on which stood a number of wooden carriages with the letter G embossed on the side of each one. Snape folded himself into the front carriage and the goblin climbed in at his side. A short, mercifully swift journey along dimly lit passageways with heavy metal covered doors at regularly spaced intervals led them to the Snape family vault. The carriage rattled to a halt, and Snape stood awkwardly, stooping under the low roof of the ancient tunnel. The goblin kept a respectful distance as Snape withdrew his wand and muttered the incantation that would release the elaborate locking mechanism of the vault.

The door was embellished with a knot of silver vipers, with gemstone eyes of green aventurine, and they blinked at Snape slowly as they began to unravel. Once unlocked, the pattern on the door showed a large letter S, and the door swung open. Snape stepped inside and, ignoring the large pile of small grey drawstring bags that made up his monthly salary for the last several years, chose instead a large green velvet bag tied with a golden cord. Peering inside he found it full of galleons, as he had expected, and he concealed it carefully within his travelling cloak before taking a look around to make sure that everything else was in order. Satisfied, he stepped back into the tunnel and the door swung shut behind him, and the busy vipers entangled themselves once more.

He stood in the doorway of the bank for a few moments before venturing down the worn stone steps, looking up and down the Alley for any sign of Ella and Tonks. He did not doubt that they would, by now, be busily occupied in one or other of the many shops catering for the serious Yule shopper, but it was best to ensure that he was not seen. They were nowhere in sight, and so he hastened down the steps and was soon swallowed up in the crowds. Moments later, he stood at the door of the most famous goldsmiths in the land. Dwarfish, of course; there were no human jewellers their equal and Gemthewer was the finest representative of his trade that Snape had ever come across. Not that he made a point of buying jewellery, except for the odd small piece for his mother in the years prior to her death; but Folin Gemthewer's reputation alone would have ensured Snape's custom.

He rapped sharply three times on the reinforced door, and a small window opened up in it, at waist height. Exasperated at this seemingly extreme demonstration of security, Snape bent low and peered through the window at the dwarf.

"Yes?" it growled.

"I am Professor Severus Snape. I have an appointment to see Mister Gemthewer about the possible purchase of some items of jewellery."

The dwarf squinted at him suspiciously. Snape sighed.

"If you would be so very kind as to let me in?"

The small window was slammed shut and bolted. Snape straightened, and waited. After a few moments, he heard the sound of other, heavier bolts being scraped back, and the barrels of several locks clicking loudly. The door swung open, and with a quick glance around him to make sure he was not seen, Snape went inside. The concierge secured the door behind them and then, in a gruff baritone, said,

"Come this way, please."

He followed the dwarf from the main sales area of the shop through a stone archway into the spacious room beyond. The dwarf had long greying hair, and sported a short beard plaited into two thick braids and secured with strips of leather. Snape could also see a staff identity badge pinned on to the dwarf's light mail tunic. It was fashioned from a thin slice of striated Welsh slate and picked out in precious stones was the dwarf's given name, Clongwen Stoutheart. Snape raised an eyebrow. He knew that all dwarfs wore beards irrespective of their sex, but he was surprised that this female felt the need to wear armour. It seemed a little excessive when added to the tight security he had seen thus far.

"Wait here."

Snape wandered around the perimeter of the room, examining the contents of the glass- fronted cabinets that lined its walls and held examples of every gemstone that Snape had ever heard of, and several that he had not. After several minutes he heard the familiar growl of Gemthewer and he turned his attention to the archway into the main shop. He heard the scratching of long nails on the stone floor followed by the door being unlocked, and a cheery

"Goodbye Mister Clawfoot, and thank you once again for your valued custom!"

He raised an eyebrow in mild surprise. The furniture trade must be more lucrative than he had imagined, if a cockatrice as famously parsimonious as Clawfoot could be persuaded to part with his galleons without blood being spilled.

He stood expectantly with his hands clasped in front of him, and soon Gemthewer had bustled in with a

"Professor Snape! On the dot as ever, it's been a while but I remember you as a punctual man, that I do!"

"Mister Gemthewer, thank you, yes," Snape replied smoothly.

"What can I do for you today, Professor? I have some very fine stones just come in from the Africas. Sapphires, rubies, diamonds...and some Indonesian jade, beautifully worked..."

"Emeralds. I require emeralds."

"Ah, of course, of course. Naturally. Now then, let me see...Ah, here they are, over here..." He waddled across to one of the smaller cabinets on the far wall.

"No, not those. I've seen those, and they're too small. And far too dull. I would like to see your...other stock."

The dwarf turned to look at him shrewdly.

"Would you, indeed?"

Snape gave a thin smile, and took from within his cloak the velvet bag. He weighed it in his hand and tossed it up gently. The galleons inside jingled unmistakeably and the dwarf's shrewdly appraising expression broke into an avaricious grin. If there was one thing Snape knew that dwarves liked better than jewels, it was gold.

"Come into my office, Professor Snape!"

Snape inclined his head by way of assent, and followed.

Gemthewer's office comprised of a series of narrow interconnecting rooms, low ceilinged and claustrophobic. Stooping a little and wondering how on earth Mr Clawfoot had managed, Snape took a proffered chair next to a large table hewn from an enormous slab of granite. The dwarf missed his home in the underbelly of the Atlas Mountains, that much was evident.

"Emeralds, then, is it?" Gemthewer muttered, half to himself. Snape nodded and the dwarf removed a chenille tablecloth from a nearby corner table to reveal it as a large metal safe. Couching before it and taking a large brass key from his tunic pocket, Gemthewer opened the safe. Moments later, a bag of the most exquisite emeralds Snape had ever seen had been emptied onto the table in front of him. They were flawless. There was one large stone, as large as a robin's egg and of similar shape, and several smaller gems of various size. Maintaining his mask of impassivity, even though his heart was pounding as he imagined the gift that could be wrought from such a stone, he picked up the largest emerald and examined it carefully, gazing deeply into its many facets, closing his fist around it and imagining Ella's smaller hand do the same. He swallowed carefully, and began in a measured voice,

"I require the setting to be of platinum, a trio of serpents holding the stone firmly in their embrace. The chain will be thick and appropriate for the pendant's weight, and it will be twenty two inches long. As for these smaller stones...you will make me a pair of - of- of wedding bands. Platinum, two ouroboros with the gems for eyes. As for this stone..." He picked up a flawless stone the size of his little finger nail, a twin in miniature to the larger one destined to be a necklace, "A ring, in a similar setting to the necklace. I leave the fine detail of the design to you."

He lifted his gaze and looked the dwarf in the eye.

"You are a very generous man, Professor Snape. These stones are of some considerable value..."

"How much?" Snape asked, seemingly bored now.

Gemthewer produced a scrap of paper from his pocket and a stubby pencil from the depths of his beard, and wrote down a figure, folded the paper over and passed it across to Snape. He took it, looked at the cost, and raised an eyebrow before giving his response.

"For that, I also expect a fine pair of earrings to be made from the remaining stones, and for the pendant's setting to be wrought now, in my presence. I would prefer to have it today."

The dwarf held out his hand.

"A pleasure doing business with you, Professor Snape!"

Snape smiled thinly and shook Gemthewer's hand to seal their agreement, then took out the green velvet bag, counting out on to the table nearly all the coins from it. Gemthewer scooped them up and turned back to his safe to deposit the gold.

"My workshop's just this way, Professor, mind your head now."

The windowless foundry was hot and cramped, and Snape soon found that he needed to remove his cloak and his frock coat. The dwarf was in his natural element, of course, and set to his task with a delight that gradually infected Snape and encouraged him to drop his mask of impassivity and involve himself fully in the creative process. He had already decided that he wanted to use deep magic to charm the pendant, so he began with some preliminary incantations while the platinum was still in its liquid state, imbuing the metal with powerful charms. He would work on the stone in private, at Hogwarts. He knew exactly what he wanted to do, and he needed Ella to be close by so that he could feel her presence as he worked. The thought of her and her probable reaction to his gift filled him with a deep, secret joy, and he watched avidly as the serpent setting for the pendant took shape.

It was late afternoon by the time Snape left Gemthewer's, but the time there had been well spent since the dwarf had not only completed the emerald necklace but had also shown Snape a selection of lacquered trinket boxes inlaid with the finest mother-of-pearl. Snape had chosen one appropriate for the pendant and had sketched a suitable design for the box's lid, parting with the remaining galleons from the green velvet bag on the strict understanding that the box, along with all the other items he had commissioned, would be delivered to Hogwarts within the week. The velvet bag now contained just one item, more valuable to Snape than all the coins that had filled it just a few hours before.

Flickering gas lamps illuminated the length of Diagon Alley now, and Snape was warmed by their glow as he walked in the dusk's winter chill. Throngs of people still wandered the streets, attracted by colourfully festive window displays and jovial shopkeepers' promises of seasonal goodwill for all, if only they invested in their wares. Snape was immune to their enticements as he quickened his pace. All that he needed to make a perfect Christmas was in his pocket, and its recipient would be waiting for him in the Leaky Cauldron.