Travels with Severus

Travels With Severus

Book One Chapter One

Severus Does New Orleans

Severus Snape loved music. His appreciation of music, among other arts, was one of the few things he could thank his father for, albeit reluctantly. It had been the only thing that the muggle world had produced that his father had been able to appreciate. Muggle music and art, had led Severus to begin to explore the non-magical world. He had loved to walk the streets of London at night, and would apperate to that city every chance he got. His father had eventually found out though, thanks to Potter and his friends. The only thing that saved him from his fathers beating, was the mark that he bore on his arm. The only thing that saved him from Voldimort's wrath was that he had managed to persuade him that his knowledge of the muggle world would be of vast assistance in his rise to power and eventual rule. It was, and it had also been of vast assistance in his defeat.

He had nearly stopped listening to music once he took the mark, for he often found himself angrily forcing bittersweet memories back into the depths of his sub conscience whenever he heard the familiar strains of any Mozart composition. He had stopped listening to opera all together, for try as he might, he was unable to stop the tears that would always come with the sweet strains of the music and the beautiful voices singing their deaths. Ah, to love so much that death was the only answer to having to face the world without the object of that love. Tears were not suited to Death Eaters, even a reformed one. Tears were weakness, and Severus Snape was, at least on the surface, not a weakling.

Thus he turned away from most classical composers and cultivated tastes for other genres of music. Jazz was a particular favorite of his. He loved the smoky voice of Diana Krall and the soulful sensuality of Nina Simone. He loved Louis Armstrong, and the ragtime of Harlem and the roaring twenties. His latest favorite was Genevieve De laVerne, whose voice filled his dreams with her song. He had not heard a voice like hers in his entire life, so erotic and sultry. Soulful and inviting. He wondered what she looked like, for her likeness was never seen on her albums. All that anyone knew about her had been gleaned from the mini-series of stories that were written in the liner notes. Pieces of fiction designed to accompany the music she sang. She fascinated him, this faceless woman, who seduced with her voice. That she was a witch, he was almost sure of, but then Garbo hadn't been and she had managed to hold muggle men enthralled for decades with her mystery. She was, he learned, to appear in New Orleans in two weeks time at the Red Cat Jazz Club.

The decision to first travel to New Orleans was a natural one for him to make. 'Besides' he thought 'where else could one hear such a wide variety of this music? Served up in smoke filled bars and lounges that never closed.' New Orleans held other attractions for him as well. The native women were reputed to be some of the most beautiful in the world. The society there, both wizard and muggle was said to be polite and hospitable. Anyone was welcome in that city, from hedonists to the straight and narrow. It was a place to go if you wanted to watch, be watched or disappear. Wine, women and song all in one beautiful city.

His father had hated jazz. Yes, New Orleans was the first place he would visit.

So it was that with a slight smile, Severus stepped through the doors of his comfortably air-conditioned hotel, and into the sultry July evening. His first in New Orleans. The city had a soft; lazy ambiance mixed with a Caribbean feel. The Spanish and French architecture was like art in its self. Severus ambled through Jackson Square, following the delicious scent of the Café Au Lait, which wafted though the heavy night air. The concierge at the hotel said that he should stop at the Café DuMonde on his way to the show and try the coffee at this famous café. His highly sensitive sense of smell detected the blend of the coffee, chicory and the sweet smell of steamed milk, and he quickened his pace in anticipation.

"Good evening, sir, table for one?" a young, black man dressed in waiters' garb asked.

"Yes," he replied as he glanced around him, uncomfortable at the curious glances he felt from the other patrons. Especially the female ones. He met the waiters' eyes and cocked his brow.

"Right this way, please," he said leading him towards the middle of the table filled patio.

"I'd prefer something closer to the railing." Snape said quietly, earning him a bewildered glance from the boy. Sensing his customers discomfort, he smiled and changed direction, leading him to a table alongside the railing.

" You aren't from around here are you?" the young man asked, "I can tell by your accent. Great Britain? Perhaps Scotland?"

"Yes," Snape replied with a frown. What was this? An inquisition?

"Well, if you've come for coffee you're in the wrong place. But if you have come for a cup of heaven, well you are in for a treat."

"Really," Snape drawled, still under observation by the rest of the room albeit subtle. "Is the staring part of the experience?"

This earned a laugh from the young man in the white apron. "Well, I wouldn't call it staring. No, staring is rude, and our mothers would be shocked at such rude behavior, sir. No no, we people watch here. No offence meant at all, but we New Orleanians love to people watch. Most of the people you see here are natives. The café is a tradition for us on Friday evenings."

"I see."

"Yes, well nothing like a good Café AuLait to start off the weekend."

"Speaking of which?" Snape replied with a cocked eyebrow.

"Of course, how silly of me," the young man said, taking the hint "I'll be right back."

Severus sat back and sighed. The evening was warm, no hot really, and he was glad that he had left his heavy woolen robes back home. Since he was traveling as a Muggle, he had opted for a wardrobe of plain black trousers and linen shirts. He still hadn't gotten used to the light feel of the material, the freedom of movement it gave him. He still felt naked without the weight of his robes. In fact he felt as if he were standing naked in the middle of the patio by the way he was being 'people watched' by the entire room. He decided to 'people watch' back, but in his own way.

Adopting his much-practiced scowl, he swept his eyes around the room. Smiling at the discomfort of the people around him as he looked at each of them just long enough to cross the boundary between polite and rude. One by one, they turned their eyes away, some clearing their throats, others suddenly finding their coffee interesting. Except for one person. She returned his gaze and slowly curled her lips into a smile.

"Here ya go. One Café AuLait and an order of begnets to start the weekend with." The young waiter stepped in between his gaze and the woman who was so blatantly returning it. "Enjoy. Nice meeting you. I hope you enjoy your stay."

"Thank you," he glanced at the boy's name tag, "Etienne." The young man smiled and hurried to an awaiting customer. Severus looked over the top of his cup, wanting to continue with the contest he had started, but the woman had disappeared. With a frown and a shrug, he picked up his cup and sniffed the brew. He sipped. Ah! He would have to tip the concierge extra for this.

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The Red Cat Jazz Club was in full swing when Severus walked through the doors of the establishment. Harry Connick, JR was blasting from the speakers, and entwined couples on the dance floor swayed in time to his tune. Severus followed the hostess to his table as he took in the atmosphere around him, pleased with the modern art deco architecture and the abundance of polished and brushed chrome. The booths were the tall kind, reminiscent of the speakeasy, and covered in bright silks and damasks.

Taking his seat near the edge of the dance floor, and at the front of the stage, he ordered a whiskey neat, then sat back and contemplated the empty stage. The show was to start in five minutes time, the show he had come all the way from England for, and he felt as giddy as a child did at Christmas.

A shiver ran up his spine as he realized that he was being watched, again. 'Oh no. More people watching natives.' he thought with a sigh 'Pastime or not, it's bloody rude.' He plastered his best sneer on his face, and swept his eyes around his immediate vicinity. He had discomfited three people, when, as he swept his eyes to their next target and made contact he was startled to realize that it was the same woman he had seen at the Café DuMonde. She met his eyes again and smiled. He smirked back and cocked his brow. 'Am I flirting?' he thought, astonished. ' No, wait! She's flirting back!' Her smile widened and she had cocked her brow in response to his. She wasn't at all unattractive he thought as he assessed her from beneath squinted eyes. Nice chestnut brown hair, ordinary nose maybe a bit pert, but nice. Uncanny hazel eyes and her lips, well, were quite luscious. 'Oh, Merlin help me. She's walking over here! Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck! No woman should look that good in red. Where do those legs end?' Those never ending legs were carrying the creature toward his table, where she took a seat and smiled.

"Hi. Here for the show?" she asked, brow cocked in punctuation to her question. She tucked her chin onto her hand. Her teeth gleamed in the dim light of the room.

'Gods, her voice is silky.' Severus cleared his throat and allowed his lips to curl into a small smile. "Yes. And you?" Feeling the sudden need to moisten his very dry mouth, he sipped his whiskey.

"Humm, why yes, as a matter of fact," came her reply. She toyed a napkin with her fingers. "You aren't from around here, are you?"

"No."

"I guessed as much back at the café. You seemed uncomfortable with the crowd."

"I'm not accustomed to what the waiter referred to as 'People Watching'," he replied, sipping his drink again as her perfume pleasantly assailed his senses.

She laughed. "Yes, well. You must have come a long way, judging from your accent. Scotland?"

"Yes. I arrived today." he answered as the band began to take the stage before him.

"All that way, to see this show? I'm impressed." she sipped from the glass that a waitress placed in front of her. "What's your name?"

"Severus Snape. And yours?"

She opened her mouth to answer, but was stopped by a disembodied voice. " Ladies and gentlemen. The Red Cat Jazz Club is proud to present to you the sultry siren of jazz, Genevieve De laVerne!"

His mouth fell open, as with a wicked smile, the woman across from him rose and sauntered her way to the stage.

A/N This chapter is dedicated to Shem. Thanks for your encouragement, I hope you enjoy!

As for the rest of y'all, I promise to make the upcoming chapters more action packed. And I don't just mean action as in smut, although there will be some of that too. Surprises in store!!!