InsaneJournal

1 September

Severus checked his reflection in the age-mottled mirrored panels backing the antique oak bar. Through the multiple rows containing an assortment of bottles and glassware, the image of an older man with curly salt and pepper hair and a matching neatly-trimmed beard was reflected back at him. Assured his glamour charm was in place, he reached for a bottle of dry vermouth.

As he added the green olive garnish to a Martini(1) and handed the mixed drink off to a waitress, Severus glanced around the busy London pub. The pub building itself dated back to the early 1800's, and although McCauley's Pub had had many owners and a shifting clientele through the years, it had managed to retain most of the original oak beams, flooring and wainscoting, as well as much of its antique brass fixtures.

McCauley's Pub currently catered to a revolving crowd of business men and women, and the muted television above the bar was set to a financial channel, the close-captioning crawl of stocks, bonds, and economic news of no interest to Severus at all.

"Steve," one of the wait staff called, to get Severus' attention. "I need a Manhattan(2), a Lemon Drop(3), a Pinot Noir and a pint of Guinness Dark for table four."

He nodded his head to indicate that he heard the order, and went about gathering the ingredients to make the two mixed drinks.

Steve. Steve Smith.

Responding to the moniker was now second nature to the wizard. It was, after all, what he had named his current disguise.

~*~*~*~*~
Harry stepped into McCauley's Pub, pausing for a moment so his eyes could adjust to the darkened room. He often stopped at the pub, located halfway between his residence and his office, for a drink on his way home after a long day.

He liked the relaxed atmosphere of the Muggle pub. No one here knew him as The Effing Chosen One, and any perceived knowledge they may have of magic came from the fantasy worlds of authors like J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis or stage magicians like Harry Houdini and John Maskelyne.

He nodded in greeting to some of the patrons he recognized and made his way to the bar, relieved that McCauley's Pub was not a meat market. That was not to say that no one ever met someone at the pub and decided to date, but it was a casual ambiance, not the frenzied not going home alone Saturday night kind of atmosphere. And at this point in his life, Harry had no desire or, frankly, the energy, to pursue a meaningless hook-up.

Harry noticed the unfamiliar older man behind the bar as he took a seat at a vacant barstool. It looked as if McCauley had hired a new bartender. The man deftly drew a pint of ale as Harry studied him. The relaxed way the man moved told him that the man was not a novice, but, Harry wondered, was the man a common bartender, or a true mixologist?

"Good evening, sir. What can I get you this evening?"

Harry debated ordering something complex, but decided to order a deceptively simple drink instead.

"I'd like a Snakebite(4). Thank you."

~*~*~*~*~
Snakebite.

Severus' eyebrow arched at the name of the beverage requested, and he fought against immediately checking his reflection to ascertain that the glamours concealing his scarred throat were firmly in place. He had been shocked to see a middle-aged Harry Potter walk into McCauley's Pub, his dark hair cropped close to his skull, wearing a well-tailored Muggle suit, and with an ease that suggested familiarity with the establishment and its patrons.

What were the chances that of the thousands of Muggle pubs in the boroughs of London, Harry Bloody Potter would walk into this one? Fate had a truly warped sense of humor at times, Severus thought and he pushed "Steve, the bartender" to the forefront.

While topping the half pint of cider with a half pint of light, crisp lager, Severus watched the green-eyed menace casually exchange pleasantries with the man sitting beside him. As a finishing touch, Severus added a few dashes of blackcurrant liqueur to the top of the classic British beertail.

After placing the chilled glass on a water-ringed Guinness Ale pressboard coaster in front of Harry, Severus moved to the other end of the bar to take another order.

To his relief, Harry gave no indication that he had recognized his former professor.

~*~*~*~*~
Harry sipped the citrusy blend, appreciating the added punch of the blackcurrant liqueur. That addition alone indicated Steve was a bit of an old-school-trained barkeep. Younger bartenders in did not usually include the blackcurrant liqueur in a Snakebite unless specifically requested to add it and a rare few even replaced the lager with a stout.

His glass nearly empty, Harry debated whether or not to order a second drink. He had dropped Teddy off at King's Cross Station earlier that day for the seventeen-year-old's final year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and Harry was in no real hurry to return to his empty house.

"Another Snakebite, sir?"

"No. I'm in the mood for something stronger. I'd like an Obituary Cocktail(5)."

Something about the way Steve's long fingers plucked the bottles of gin, dry vermouth, and absinthe off the shelves seemed vaguely familiar to Harry.

~*~*~*~*~
9 September

Severus winced as the tipsy bottle-blonde shrieked in laughter, the shrill sound drowning out the low drone of conversation around her. There was a manic edge to the woman's laugh that sent chills down his spine. Even though the professionally attired woman bore no actual resemblance to an escapee from an insane asylum, Severus was struck by how much she sounded like the mad witch Bellatrix Lestrange after her escape from Azkaban. He massaged his temples to fend off the headache that threatened to erupt.

A more sedate laughter drifted through the room from the impromptu after-work hen party one of the local brokerage firms was hosting for a bride-to-be. Since it was a mid-week event and no one wanted to face a workday morning with a hangover, the group was thankfully breaking up early. A co-worker took the arm of the inebriated blonde as they headed for the door, presumably to make certain she arrived safely home.

Harry held the door open for the last of the hen party and zigzagged around the waitresses clearing the tables. He briefly exchanged words with two men Severus knew to be bankers.

As Severus waited for Harry to place his order, he noted that the younger man was dressed in a chambray blue button-down shirt and gently worn jeans, a much more casual look than was usual for McCauley's Pub. The lightly scarred hands and callused fingers were working man's hands, not the soft, manicured digits of an office worker.

"It's been a long day, Steve," Harry sounded tired. He looked up at the bartender. "I'd like a Redheaded Slut(6)."

"Don't we all, mate," laughed the drunken businessman on the stool beside him. "Don't we all."

What the hell was a Redheaded Slut, Severus wondered.

"I'm sorry, sir. I have never heard of that drink before." Severus hated to appear unprofessional, even with something as simple as a cocktail recipe. "Can you tell me what's in it?"

"Sure, but, depending where you are from, you may know of it as a Ginger Bitch(6)."

"That I have heard of," Severus replied. "Let me see if I have any cranberry juice."

~*~*~*~*~
As Steve mixed the Jägermeister, peach-flavored schnapps, and cranberry juice, Harry looked up at the silent television screen, reading the business news of the day from the closed captions. In his peripheral vision he noticed a figure with a prominent nose peeking through a curtain of long black hair behind the bar. Turning his head, Harry blinked. Steve was the only one behind the bar.

He must be more tired than he thought, Harry mused.

~*~*~*~*~
23 September

The next time Harry visited McCauley's Pub, he was not alone. Severus recognized the distinctive Weasley red hair from across the room, but was surprised by the identity of the man who was wearing it. While Severus might have expected Ron or George, he didn't expect to see Percy, especially a Percy Weasley dressed in a black polo shirt and khakis.

"...and double check the punchlist for the Vertical Project with Lavender. I'd like to give the tenants a go-ahead to move in by month's end." Harry took a seat at the end of the bar and Percy, scribbling frantically into a small notebook, sat to his left.

"Good evening, Steve." Harry gave the bartender a brief smile. "I would like a Cobra's Fang(7) and my associate would like to Hop, Skip, and Go Naked(8)."

"Harry!" Percy spluttered. His blush crept all the way up to his ears.

"Relax, Perce. It's just the name of a punch. You'll like it." Harry flashed Percy a wicked grin. "I can order you a Pink Squirrel(9) if you'd prefer."

"A pink...what? No...no...the naked thing's fine." He fiddled nervously with his notebook.

Severus didn't even try to mask his smirk. A Pink Squirrel - honestly. The adult Percy Weasley didn't appear to have mellowed much with age, Severus thought. He still seemed to be the same fusspot he had always been.

Severus listened to the pair as he mixed both of the drinks, but much of it didn't make much sense to him. From the seriousness of Harry's tone, they were deep in a business meeting.

"Do we have the latest numbers for Grimmauld? And what are we going to do about the Planning Commission's directive on the windows? What they want is not practical..."

"They want to retain the historical..."

"Fuck that!" Harry took a sip of his potent cocktail. "Eighty percent of those windows are already rotted, warped, or broken and the few survivors need so many repairs it would be more economical, not to mention more energy efficient, to replace them all.

"Hell, there's not one stock size window on the whole block, so it's all a custom build anyway. Have Lav follow-up with the vendors on this new Commission wrinkle and see what they suggest. They've dealt with the arseholes longer than we have."

Harry knocked back the rest of the Cobra's Fang and signaled for a refill. Percy was so busy making notations in his notebook that he had only taken a few sips of his punch.

"At least they were satisfied with the ironwork designs. If we hadn't located a complete set of the original railings in one of the back gardens, Merlin knows what hoops we'd be jumping through. Tell me again why we just can't just use a Confundus on them and be done with it."

"Harry..." Percy looked over the top of his spectacles. "We really don't need the Ministry on our arses. They barely put up with us as it is."

"I know, Perce. I'm just tired." Harry rubbed his eyes. "We've barely started with Grimmauld and the Planning Commission is already driving me spare. Thank Merlin we didn't have to go through them for Vertical..."

~*~*~*~*~
Harry sipped his drink as he watched Percy make precise notations in his ever-present notebook. Harry knew he would be lost without the other man keeping a firm hold on all the miniscule details required to keep their business afloat, but he wished that Percy was able to periodically set work aside and just relax a little.

And so, Harry made it a point to wind up Percy on a daily basis, but he was careful to never be cruel. The other wizard was just so easy to fluster. Even Steve, the bartender, thought so, judging by his smirk.

But why, Harry wondered, did that smirk seem so familiar?

~*~*~*~*~
Punchlist.

Grimmauld.

Vertical.

What did that mean? And more importantly, why did it even matter to him what it meant?

Severus acknowledged that his unrelenting curiosity was his greatest personal asset, but, was equally aware that it was also often his greatest liability. Once he began to puzzle over something, he tended to pick at it until it was solved to his satisfaction, no matter whom he ruffled in the process. He really needed to ignore the questions ricocheting around in his brain, and embrace the quiet, dull life of Steve Smith, bartender.

~*~*~*~*~
24 September

Hoping to satisfy his curiosity once and for all, Severus sat in the small, neglected residential garden located in the center of the square of tall Gothic Revival terraced houses. Numbers 1 through 24 faced the right side of the park and 25 through 48 faced the left.

He had not visited Grimmauld Place in nearly eighteen years.

He remembered that the terraced houses on the square had once had a look of being neglected, and many did not presently look much better. Those brick buildings were stained with decades of grime, many of the windows were broken or boarded up and paint was peeling on the window trim and doors. Many of the decorative ironwork railings were twisted, rusted or missing altogether.

But the square appeared to be in the midst of a massive renovation. All 48 of the now vacant terraced houses were behind a series of wire mesh fencing and piles of construction debris filled overflowing skips. Based on signs attached to the fencing, two different companies seemed to be working on renovating the enormous square.

A company named Black and Son were working on Numbers 25 through 48, and those homes looked to be in the worst shape. A fire had gutted at least six or seven of the center houses, leaving only the soot-damaged shells behind. Severus wondered, idly, if it were possible to repair those units, or if they would need to be taken down to the foundation. The intense heat from the fire would have certainly compromised the internal structure of the brick itself.

Across the square, Phoenix Construction was further along in their restoration project. Scaffolding ran up the sides of the four-storey structure and extended halfway down the block. Numbers 1 through 7 had already had the centuries of grime sandblasted from them, and a crew was repairing the crumbling masonry joints and replacing damaged bricks. Numbers 8 through 14 were draped in heavy plastic sheeting. Severus could hear the sound of pressurized air blasting the stained brick and rotting mortar from beneath the sheeting. The brick facades of the remaining 10 homes were currently untouched.

He wondered if 12 Grimmauld Place was still hidden behind wards, and if all this reconstruction would affect the ancient house at all. Without a silencing charm, the noise alone would be maddening.

And would the Muggles finally fix what they considered to be an amusing numbering mistake or keep Number 11 sitting beside Number 13?

The older man contemplated what he had discovered. Harry was obviously in the construction business, Severus thought, but which company was his? Both Phoenix Construction and Black and Son were equally possible. Or did the Muggles only think there were two companies and did Harry actually own both?

And the larger question - why was Harry Potter, heir to both the Potter and Black fortunes, even working in Muggle construction at all?

~*~*~*~*~
Acting on a hunch, Severus paused at the intersection of Diagon Alley and Vertical Alley. He adjusted the hood of his slate grey robe to shield his face. Due to the drizzle that was currently falling, no one would think twice seeing a hooded wizard wandering the alleyways.

Vertical Alley was cleaner and quieter than the main shopping district of Diagon Alley. It was the home to many smaller specialty shops, as well as the offices of solicitors, accountants, and private healers. He passed Twickingham's Timepieces, the window displaying everything from antique long case clocks to pocket watches. Next was S. Todd's Barber Shoppe, Occulus Reparo! - Opticians, and then there was a narrow passageway between buildings leading to a staircase to the upper floors.

The next four storefronts were empty and that was unheard of for magical London. Since most shops and businesses were passed down through family, there was rarely even one open storefront, let alone four.

Severus looked more closely at the foursome. Although carefully constructed to blend in with its centuries-old neighbors, this building was brand new. The first floor and basement were for shops, the second floor for professional offices and the third and fourth were designated living spaces. Through the windows, Severus admired the straight walls and level floors of the shops, a definite benefit of new construction.

Tucked into the corner of the large display windows were small, hand written signs. Three signs announced a particular business would be opening soon and the final sign read Phoenix Construction.

So that answered one of his questions. As Severus walked back toward Diagon Alley, Percy's comment about Ministry interference needled him.

The buildings were beautifully constructed and looked to be on their way to full occupancy, so why would the Ministry of Magic, as Percy had stated, barely put up with them?

And how would he find an answer to that question without revealing knowledge of the wizarding world?

Sometimes Severus really hated being more curious than a cat.

~*~*~*~*~
18 October

It was late afternoon, just at the start of Severus' shift, when Harry wandered into McCauley's Pub. There was heavy stubble on his cheeks and he didn't look as if he had slept well for days. Holding his spectacles in one hand, he rubbed the bridge of his nose with the other.

"I'd like a Corpse Reviver(10), please," he said, looking at Steve with tired green eyes.

" One or Two?" Severus inquired. Not everyone knew that there were two drastically different versions of the cocktail that shared a name.

"Oh. Number One, definitely." Harry stifled a yawn. "I'm feeling more cognac than gin."

"Oi, Jones," one of the bankers called from a table across the room. "Haven't seen you in weeks. Were you on holiday?"

"I wish," Harry called back. "Been in the West Country. One of my main projects there went wheels up."

Jones? Wheels up?

Before Severus could ask Harry for clarification, he was hit with a barrage of bar orders. When he finally had time to look around, Harry was no longer there.

~*~*~*~*~
29 October

Severus officially hated working on the nights leading up to the Muggle Halloween. He measured melon liqueur, blood orange vodka, pineapple juice and cream into an ice filled shaker. After shaking the concoction well, he poured the drink into four ice filled glasses. The cocktail glowed an eerie green. To finish off the Vampire's Kiss (11), he drizzled grenadine on top to create a bleeding effect.

The usually quiet atmosphere of the pub was missing that night. There was an unexpected influx of non-regulars. Severus assumed there must be a trade convention in the area, because McCauley's didn't usually draw such a challenging crowd. He was keeping an eye on a particular group of men. The friendly banter that they had once shared was growing sharper as each round of drinks was consumed, and their raised voices were unsettling the other patrons.

When words turned into shoves and shouts, Severus set down his cocktail shaker and stormed across the bar floor to separate the drunken idiots.

~*~*~*~*~
Harry watched Steve stalk across the room and proceed to flay the combatants with his unexpectedly caustic tongue. Gone was the mild bartender the regulars knew, replaced by a man who never actually raised his voice, but whose words drew blood. It was difficult to make out what exactly Steve was saying to the men from Harry's vantage point across the room, but the words imbecile, dunderhead, and idiot drifted over the hum of the crowd. Humiliated, the other men in the out-of-town group swiftly paid their tabs and dragged their quarrelsome companions out of McCauley's Pub, to the cheers and clapping of the normal crowd. Steve acknowledged the applause with a smirk and glided back to his spot behind the bar.

"Doesn't the bartender remind you of someone?" Harry idly asked his companions, thinking back to disastrous Potions classes with Professor Snape. Maybe it was the term "dunderhead" that reminded him so much of the missing Potions master, or the way the bartender seemed to float as he walked. He could easily imagine a black cloak billowing around the man.

"Oh, yes," Percy said, thinking of his childhood at the Burrow. "Mum. Definitely Mum."

"My grandmother." Neville shuddered, happy to have finally convinced the old harridan that he was not a near-Squib.

"Oh, I was thinking Severus Snape," Harry replied as he led them to an open spot at the bar.

"Yeah, I can see that," Neville replied as he joined the other two. He'd been called an imbecile in nearly every Potions class he had ever attended with the man.

~*~*~*~*~
"A bit of a rough night," Harry commented as the three former Gryffindors settled at the bar.

"Indeed," Severus replied, flatly. He was trying hard not to be flummoxed by Neville Longbottom's sudden appearance in McCauley's Pub. A brief glance at the Guinness Beer clock above the bar told him he still had hours before his shift ended. Who next, he wondered, Gilderoy Lockhart?

"What can I get you this evening?"

"We'll have three Anus Burners(12) to start."

After placing their order, Harry turned to Neville. "This is the shot I was telling you about. I really think Hannah should serve it at the Leaky."

Severus dropped a slice of jalapeno pepper into each shot glass, filled it with tequila and topped it with Tabasco sauce. He placed one in front of each man. Muggle patrons usually ordered the Anus Burner only on a dare, but wizards were raised on the warmth of Firewhiskey and Pepperup Potions, so he was curious to see the trio's reaction to the blistering drink.

They clinked their glasses together and knocked back the shot. Neither Harry nor Neville showed much reaction to the heat, but Percy coughed, blinked back tears in his eyes, and then laughed.

"Woo! That'll wake you up."

So, not a total ponce, Severus thought.

Neville plucked the jalapeno pepper slice from the bottom of the glass and chewed it thoughtfully.

"This has a nice bite. Hot, but not too hot. Harry, do you know what kind of pepper this is? I'd like to try growing some."

"I'm pretty sure it's a jalapeno pepper. Ask Steve when he comes around again. You must be able to source them locally if he's using them in a pub drink."

~*~*~*~*~
When Harry returned from a visit to the loo, he noticed that Percy had ordered a pint of lager and Neville was sipping on two fingers of scotch. Steve was a little ways down the bar, mixing another batch of the Vampire's Kiss. From his seat, Harry could see Steve's reflection in the bar mirror, but if he turned his head just so, the bartender took on the appearance of another man altogether. How very interesting, he thought. Perhaps he wasn't the only wizard hiding with one foot in the Muggle world.

"What can I get for you?" Steve asked.

"I see you've a run on Vampire Kisses this evening, but I haven't seen you make one Wolf Bite(13)."

"It's no problem to make you one." Steve reached for the bottle of melon liqueur.

"No, I don't think so. I rather like the taste of absinthe, but am not much of a fan of melon liqueur." Harry gave Steve an impish grin. "But as you seem to have a theme going tonight, I'd like a Witch Hunt(14) if you have any Strega liqueur on hand."

As Steve plucked a small bottle of the herbal liqueur from his back bar, Harry addressed Neville.

"How's Teddy doing in your class so far? He's so worried about taking the N.E.W.T.s this year, he's already talking about staying at school over the Yule Holidays."

~*~*~*~*~
Severus half listened to Neville, Percy and Harry discuss the goings on at Hogwarts, couched in vague Muggle terms, of course. He still wasn't sure why Longbottom was even in Muggle London right now, because, based upon the overheard conversation, the man was teaching Herbology at Hogwarts, so why wasn't he in Scotland now?

Neville noted the time on Guinness Beer clock behind the bar, finished his scotch, and climbed off the bar stool.

"I should have been back half an hour ago. If you can get someone to make a precise drawing of the park, I should be able to give you preliminary designs during Yule break. Let me know what the Planning Commission wants done with the back gardens. The single families will keep their postage-stamp sized private gardens, but the multi-family units on the end rows would be better served by a shared green space."

"I'll get the measurements to you by week end. And I'll contact some of the more reasonable Commission members on the idea of the shared garden. I think that's a wonderful solution." Harry gave Neville a manly hug, and the other man made his way to the exit.

Percy toyed with his nearly empty pint glass. There was obviously something on his mind.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Has Teddy said anything about the new History of Ma...History professor?"

"He stopped taking History after Fifth year, but I will admit, I was a bit surprised when he told me Draco Malfoy replaced Professor Winkleman. From what I've heard, he's doing an excellent job. Why?"

"I think Lucy has a crush on him. She keeps telling Audrey and me how handsome he is in her letters home. Miss Molly just tells us he's dreamy." Percy grimaced. "Dreamy? Draco Malfoy? I just keep seeing that pointy little loud-mouthed ponce, and don't know what to think."

"Well, I'm sure he's grown into his looks by now, and since he's not slicking back his hair any longer, he shouldn't be looking quite so pointy."

Severus started to smile, but barely caught himself. He was Steve. He was Steve. He was Steve Smith and Steve didn't know a damn thing about Draco Malfoy, pointy or not.

"Harrrrrry!"

"Oh, give me a break, Perce," Harry laughed. "Exactly how attractive were you when you were twelve? I know damn well I was a specky little git."

He just couldn't contain it any longer. A snort escaped from Severus and he swiftly moved down the bar. Hopefully, the other two wizards didn't notice.

~*~*~*~*~
Harry watched Steve's practiced demeanor momentarily crack. He caught another glimpse of the dark haired man sharing the same space as Steve. The straight, graying black hair was familiar, but the nose was wrong.

Interesting.

~*~*~*~*~
30 October

When Harry entered the pub, McCauley was behind the bar. He'd been so used to Steve always being there, he was thrown a little.

"Hello, Mac. I'll have a pint of Guinness Dark, tonight." Harry settled onto his bar stool. "No Steve?"

"Have to give Steve a night off every once in awhile." McCauley drew the pint from the tap. "You think he's working out alright?"

"Steve? Yeah. You didn't just hire a bartender this time, you hired a mixologist. Man hasn't blinked an eye at anything I've ordered and hasn't had to reference your bar book once."

"You do order some pretty obscure things." The old man smiled.

"Do you have any idea what Steve used to do before bartending?"

"Never really asked him. Why? Is there a problem?"

"No. Just curious. Wondered if he was once a teacher."

"A teacher? Why would you think that?" McCauley was puzzled.

"He broke up an altercation last night. Steve handled it in a manner that made me think that he had way too much experience dealing with little boys with too much testosterone."

~*~*~*~*~
10 November

A frustrated Harry walked into McCauley's Pub, wearing one of his designer suits. From his appearance, Severus assumed that he had just left another Planning Commission meeting.

"Evening, Steve. Please make me a Death in the Afternoon(15)"

"A closet fan of Ernest Hemingway?"

"I don't know about being in a closet with Hemingway, but I am a fan of his cocktail."

Severus measured a jigger of absinthe into the bottom of a flute glass and then filled it with iced Champagne.

~*~*~*~*~
22 November

It was quiet in the pub that evening. The weather had turned into an icy drizzle, and many of Severus' regulars had decided not to stop on their way home, in case the weather worsened. Harry placed his leather jacket over an adjoining bar stool, letting it drip onto the floor. He did not remove his black knitted hat. With the exception of a trio at a four-top, he was the only other customer.

"What's the strangest drink you've ever had?" Harry asked. He was dressed in casual jeans and a jumper that evening.

"A Pickleback Shot(16)," Severus replied after a few moments' thought. "It's a two-shot combo I had when I holidayed in New York. You down a shot of whiskey and chase it with a shot of pickle brine."

"I don't know if I think that sounds good or disgusting."

"It was surprisingly flavorful." Severus smiled his Steve smile. "But I don't have any pickles, so you are out of luck."

"That's alright. I'd rather a Leg Spreader(17)."

"That bad a day?" Severus asked as he measured equal parts tequila, vodka, gin and rum into a glass.

"Yes and no." Harry rolled the glass in the palms of his hands. "I had to pull my outside crew off because of the ice, but we built a cushion into the timeline, so we're still on schedule. But that meant I had to tackle paperwork today instead, and I'm really more of a hands on guy."

"So, how long have you worked in construction?" Severus placed his elbows on the bar top and assumed the air of casual interest. "Or is it a family business?"

"Not a family business. I built it up myself." Harry took a sip from his glass. "I started laying brick when I was nearly twelve."

"That seems awfully young."

"I lost my parents when I was a baby and was raised by my maternal aunt and her family. Let's just say, they weren't particularly...nurturing. And because they ranted on and on about my supposed...deviations, I had the undeserved neighborhood reputation of being a delinquent. An older man on the block knew that for the bollocks it was and took me under his wing.

"Mr. Simon was a bricklayer, by trade, and he started to casually apprentice me the summer I turned twelve. I didn't go to actual constructions sites - because can you imagine the liability? - but he'd take me along on little side jobs he did off the books. I learned how to lay foundations, set bricks in straight and level rows, cut bricks, and mix and lay mortar. He promised that when I was older, he officially apprentice me, but he died of prostate cancer the summer I turned sixteen. His wife gave me some of his tools.

"After I turned seventeen and left school, I ended up working on the reconstruction of a historic building that had been damaged by a terrorist. I spent a few years under the tutelage of Stonecrusher, and discovered that I liked the challenge of reconstruction work.

"That's where the name of my company comes from, actually. I named it Phoenix Construction because the mythological phoenix rises from its ashes, and that's what refurbishing a building can feel like."

~*~*~*~*~
23 November

With only the poor light of the ancient gaslights, Severus walked down Vertical Alley in the fog. He stopped to study Harry's new building and saw that most of the tenants had already moved in. Fairy lights and garlands decorated the new establishments in anticipation of the Yule shoppers to come.

He mulled over Harry's obviously edited version of his business history. Severus hadn't paid much attention to the goings on in the magical world since he walked away from it shortly after the war, but he did know that Harry had demolished a section of Gringotts Wizarding Bank during a hunt for a horcrux and escaped on a dragon from deep within the bowels of the institution, so he was actually the 'terrorist' mentioned. The goblins had nearly gone to war with wizard kind over it. His 'years under the tutelage of Stonecrusher' could likely be a euphemism for the hard labor the goblins would have demanded of him as restitution. That Harry could have taken that harsh penalty and turned it into a successful business spoke volumes about him.

But Severus still couldn't shake Percy's worry about Ministry interference. Could it be something as simple as Phoenix Construction having a presence in the Muggle world?

~*~*~*~*~
5 December

Harry made himself at home at the bar. He toyed with a stray fiberboard drink coaster as he waited for Steve to finish with a drink order. He really should not have stopped in tonight, but he needed a quick pick-me-up. There was a pile of quotes and invoices waiting at home for him to approve prior to an early morning meeting and he knew that the probability that Percy would Floo-call him later with additional issues was extremely high.

"What can I get for you this evening?" Steve asked. The blinking fairy lights outlining the back bar cast multi-colored hues on the man's face, doing nothing for his already pale complexion.

"Please make me a Wake the Dead(18)?"

"Good luck going to sleep tonight," Steve commented. Wake the Dead was aptly named, as it contained both coffee liqueur and espresso coffee. "Do you want it as a shooter, or on the rocks?"

~*~*~*~*~
11 December

Severus lined up three glasses and coated the rim of each with crushed peppermint candy canes. He added crushed ice and a small candy cane to each glass before filling them with a pale pink liquid.

"What is that? Did I just see you add pink lemonade to rum and candy canes?" Harry's incredulous voice asked. "Do those flavors even go together?"

"That is a Drunken Elf(19)," Severus replied, handing off the festive cocktails to a waiting waitress. "I have to mix them. No one said I have to drink them."

"I'd like a Lion's Tail(20) this evening." Harry settled into what Severus was beginning to think of as his stool at the end of the bar. Tonight the younger man was dressed in a red jumper and black dress trousers. A red and gold Gryffindor tie rested against his throat.

A lion's tail, indeed, Severus thought.

~*~*~*~*~
19 December

It was thirty minutes to closing time when Harry entered McCauley's Pub. Severus was alone in the bar, having sent home the rest of the staff for the night.

"Am I too late for a drink, Steve?"

"I can make you one, but it's last call."

"I had this drink the other night. I wonder if you could make one for me." Harry settled at the bar. "It's called a Goblet of Fire(21)."

There was something in the playful tone of Harry's voice that sent a shiver through Severus. Be calm, he thought, you are Steve. Harry doesn't suspect anything. Given his past history with the Tri-Wizard Tournament, he must think the name of the cocktail is amusing. You are Steve. You are Steve Smith and it is only the name of a drink.

"I am sorry, but I can't make it for you. McCauley has strict rules against flaming cocktails. These old ceilings are low...against fire code and all that."

"Yeah, I can see his point. Let's try another one. I'm not certain what it is called, but perhaps you have heard of it." Harry gave the older man an appraising look. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?(A)"

Damn it.

"The Draught of the Living Death(A), Mr. Potter," Severus replied softly. At that point, there was no reason feign ignorance.

"Henry Jones."

"Excuse me?" Severus' eyebrow arched.

"Henry Jones. You are not the only one hiding in the Muggle world, Steve."

~*~*~*~*~
22 December - Yule

One of these days his curiosity was going to get him killed, Severus thought as he walked into the quiet square known as Grimmauld Place.

The terraced houses were still behind the protective wire fencing, but he could see that the Black and Son job site had made a great deal of progress since his last visit. The fire-gutted shells had been torn down, and even their foundations had been removed. There was scaffolding up on the remaining facades, and it appeared some of them were in the process of being sandblasted clean. For the most part, the windows and doors were still covered in plywood, and someone had attempted a bit of holiday cheer by hanging a few shabby wreaths on the boarded up doors.

Building materials and heavy equipment was now being stored behind security fencing in what was once the residential garden in the center of the square. Only a few sad trees remained in the churned up remains of the commons.

Longbottom certainly would have his hands full repairing that mess.

Severus turned his attention to the terraced houses across the square. Phoenix Construction had completed the repairs to the building facades and many brand new windows and frames had been installed. The new windows were obviously reproductions, but they looked almost identical to the tattered originals he had seen weeks before. That kind of detail had to have cost a fortune.

Walking along the protective fence, Severus began to count the terraced houses as he made his way toward the center of the block. At first he thought that the wonky numbering had been corrected when Number 11 no longer sat beside Number 13, but then he continued to count the terraced houses until he reached Number 24 and realized that 12 Grimmauld was no longer hidden behind any wards.

How exactly did the neighbors react when an additional house suddenly appeared out of the blue, he wondered.

He opened an unlocked gate in front of 9 Grimmauld and carefully made his way through the construction maze to stand in front of 12 Grimmauld. The facade looked no different from its neighbors. It gave the appearance of a building under construction.

Severus rapped sharply on the heavy front door with a tarnished ouroboros-shaped door knocker. Strangely, he could no longer feel the oppressive wards that had once enclosed The Ancient and Noble House of Black.

~*~*~*~*~
Severus handed Harry a green and white snowflake-patterned gift bag. The younger man laughed when he noted the contents. Nestled in red tissue paper were a bottle of whiskey, a bottle of spicy, garlic pickles floating in brine, and four shot glasses.

"I am looking forward to trying this."

~*~*~*~*~
Severus examined the interior of 12 Grimmauld and was shocked at the appearance. Gone was the gothic decor that had made the old house feel oppressive and cold. He noticed, immediately, that the wall that had once housed the portrait of Walburga Black was missing. In fact, most of the walls on the main floor were missing. The clean lines of the open concept design and simple, modern furniture made the place welcoming.

"Bit of an improvement, wouldn't you say?"

"This is beautiful," Severus said, looking around the room. "Is this what you've planned for the rest of the terrace?"

"The floor plan will be something similar, but there will be a few differences. The kitchen is still in the basement here, but Lavender Brown, my interior designer, tells me people don't want dark and dreary kitchens, so in the single family homes they'll be moved to the main floor and overlook the back gardens. She's also pushing for additional bathrooms. I'm still undecided if I'll use the existing basements as laundry and storage or if I'll make them separate basement flats."

"Will they all be single family homes? If I remember correctly, most of the terrace on Grimmauld had been subdivided into a hodge-podge of flats."

"Actually, there will be both. On this side of the square, the eight end houses, as well as the corner units, will be made into one and two bedroom flats or studios. The remaining fourteen will be reconverted back to single family status. Black had originally intended to subdivide his entire block of houses into flats, but he's getting pushback from the Planning Commission on that."

"Black? As in Black and Son?"

"Thomas and Terrance Black. And absolutely no relation whatsoever to the Ancient and Noble House of Black."

~*~*~*~*~
Harry led him to a seating area in front of a fireplace. A large decorated log had been placed into the fireplace, awaiting the Yule celebration. Although wood burning fireplaces were actually highly regulated in the boroughs of London, the inherent magic of the house concealed the smoke from authorities. Without a fire, he would have been unable to have a working Floo.

"I noticed that the house is no longer under Fidelius. How did you explain the house suddenly appearing?"

"Number 12 was still unplottable until a few months ago. While this section of the block was being sandblasted, I removed the magical redirection and Muggle repelling wards and Number 12 quietly reappeared between Number 11 and Number 13 while they were concealed beneath the plastic tarps. No one has noticed an additional house, not even my crew."

~*~*~*~*~
Severus picked up a moving photograph of a tiny, turquoise-haired baby nestled in a much younger Harry Potter's arms. Beside it on the shelf was a more recent photograph of an older Harry and a magenta-haired young man towering over him. As he watched, the boy's hair shifted to turquoise in the photograph.

"That's Teddy, my godson. Remus and Dora's son."

"I don't see golden eyes. Or can he change the color of them?"

"He's not a werewolf, if that's what you're asking, but he does get cranky on the full moon. He's a Metamorphmagus like his mum, so yes, he can change the color of them."

"Is he staying at Hogwarts? It's his N.E.W.T. year, right?"

"Yes, it's his N.E.W.T. year, but he decided to come home for the holidays so his old man wouldn't be alone. He's visiting his girlfriend and her family, but plans to be home in time to light the Yule Log."

"So you never married? Everyone thought you and the Weasley girl..."

"No. It's just been me and Teddy. I took full custody of him when I was still seventeen and, at sixteen years of age, Ginny Weasley wasn't mature enough to accept that. She demanded I chose between Teddy and her. Surprisingly, it wasn't that difficult a choice."

"I thought Andromeda was raising him after his parents died..."

"She was. Two months after I killed Voldie, Andy was murdered in cold blood as she shopped in Diagon Alley. The wizard who killed her mistook her for her sister, Bellatrix. When he was told he had murdered an innocent witch, he showed absolutely no remorse. He said that the only good Black was a dead Black."

"And that's when you decided to leave the Wizarding world?"

"That's when I began making plans to do so. I made Plans A, B, C and D and told no one. But there were things I needed to accomplish before I disappeared, and I was also not foolish enough to risk losing access to my fortune, so I needed to make restitution to Gringotts first."

~*~*~*~*~
"Can I ask you why you left?"

"That should be rather obvious. Even though Kingsley Shacklebolt, as acting Minister of Magic, managed to absolve me of the crimes I committed while acting as a Death Eater spy, no one was ever going to forgive me for the murder of Albus Dumbledore, especially me. I needed a fresh start."

"Have you been Steve Smith for all these years?"

"No. Steve is one of many of the aliases I've created over the years. He is one of my favorites."

"Because mixology is close to brewing potions? Or because you can call drunks idiots, imbeciles, and dunderheads to your heart's content?"

"The first one, I think," Severus laughed. "Is that how you worked out who I was? Calling someone an imbecile?"

"Not entirely. If I looked at you from just the right angle, I would see a double image. Steve and another man. A man who almost looked like a former professor of mine, but the nose was wrong."

Severus dropped his Steve Smith glamour.

"Your nose is different. It's straighter."

"It's also slightly smaller. While I was still unconscious in St. Mungo's, Healer Smethwyck became alarmed by my breathing. Apparently I would stop breathing and then start up again. He decided that my airways were being hindered by my broken nose, so he rebuilt it."

~*~*~*~*~
"When you tend bar, you often overhear conversations. Sometimes you hear something that puzzles you, but you can't ask, because then you'd have to admit you were eavesdropping. There was something you and Percy Weasley were discussing that has left me curious."

"Okay, just a guess. It's not that Percy's daughters have crushes on Draco Malfoy."

"No. And it wasn't anything about the general unattractiveness of twelve-year-olds." Severus gave him a brief smile. "You were talking about Confunding the Planning Commission and Weasley got upset. Why would the Ministry be on your arses? I saw the high quality of your work in Vertical Alley, so why would they barely put up with you? Is it because Phoenix Construction builds in both the magical and the Muggle worlds and they are worried about a threat to the Statute of Secrecy?"

"No matter how many wars we fight, nothing in the Magical British Isles will ever really change. The Ministry of Magic and the Wizengamot remain entrenched in the pureblood status quo." Harry exhaled sharply. "Who is the owner of Phoenix Construction?"

"You are. Harry Potter owns Phoenix Construction."

"No. Henry Jones owns Phoenix Construction, and there is no record of a Henry Jones in the magical world."

"And?" Severus knew he was missing something.

"And since no one has ever heard of Henry Jones in the magical world and Phoenix Construction builds in both the magical and the mundane worlds, Henry Jones therefore must be a Squib."

"And that threatens them? Why?" Even though he asked the question, Severus was fairly certain he knew the answer.

"When I began building my company, I deliberately hired the disenfranchised and the misfits. I hired based on skill, not status. Henry Jones is perceived as a threat because he is thought to be a successful Squib, and he hires only Squibs, Mudbloods, Halfbloods and Blood Traitors for his work crews. Rumor has it Henry Jones has even hired werewolves and house-elves."

"And has he?"

"Of course he has. All of my ironmongers are werewolves."

"And house-elves?"

"Actually, only one. When Teddy is in school, I don't have enough work around my house to keep my personal house-elf busy. So, I let Aster do the final clean up of my construction projects before I turn over the keys to the new owners. It keeps her busy."

"And a busy house-elf is a happy house-elf."

Severus wondered if the Ministry of Magic would feel even more threatened if they knew Henry Jones was actually the elusive Chosen One, Harry Potter.

~*~*~*~*~

Harry lined up the four shot glasses and opened the jar of pickles. Severus twisted off the cap on the whiskey bottle. They each filled two shot glasses.

"Happy Yule, Mr. Smith," Harry said as he and Severus clinked the rims of their whiskey-filled shot glasses together and then knocked back the shots.

"Happy Yule, Mr. Jones," Severus replied, as they chased the first shot with a second shot of pickle brine.

It was surprisingly flavorful.

-The End-

~*~*~*~*~

Author's Notes:

Severus Snape goes by the name Steve Smith in the Muggle world. Harry Potter goes by Henry Jones.

Percy Weasley is said to have married a woman named Audrey and they had two daughters, Molly and Lucy.

(A) Direct quote from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone


Here is a list of the mixed drinks and their ingredients:

(1) Martini - gin and vermouth, with a garnish of a green olive or a lemon twist.

(2) Manhattan - sweet vermouth, whiskey, and a dash of bitters.

(3) Lemon Drop - frozen vodka, freshly squeezed lemon juice, sugar, ice, with a thinly sliced lemon garnish.

(4) Snakebite - equal parts light, crisp lager and apple cider. To add an extra kick of flavor, some bartenders add a few dashes of blackcurrant liqueur to top the drink. (In the U.S., the drink is usually made with a dark beer or stout.)

(5) Obituary Cocktail - gin, dry vermouth and absinthe.

(6) Redheaded Slut - Jägermeister, peach-flavored schnapps, and cranberry juice. It is also known, by some, as a Ginger Bitch.

(7) Cobra's Fang - rum, 151-proof rum, absinthe, tropical syrups, bitters, and a mix of fruit juices, served with an orange and pineapple garnish.

(8) Hop, Skip, and Go Naked - a punch made of lemon vodka, grapefruit juice, simple syrup, and beer.

(9) Pink Squirrel - crème de noyaux, white crème de cacao and cream garnished with skewered maraschino cherries. This bright pink cocktail can also be made with ice cream. You could substitute amaretto for the crème de noyaux, but the color of the drink would be different.

(10) Corpse Reviver #1 - cognac, French apple brandy and sweet vermouth. A hangover-curing cocktail. #2 is a citrusy cocktail made with gin, triple sec, white wine, lemon juice and absinthe.

(11) Vampire's Kiss - melon liqueur, blood orange vodka, pineapple juice and cream with a drizzle of grenadine on top to create a bleeding effect.

(12) Anus Burner - tequila, slice of jalapeno pepper, dash Tabasco sauce.

(13) Wolf Bite - melon liqueur, absinthe, pineapple juice, and lemon-lime soda with a drizzle of grenadine on top to create a bleeding effect.

(14) Witch Hunt - Scotch whisky, dry vermouth, Strega (Italian for witch) herbal liqueur and lemonade.

(15) Death in the Afternoon - absinthe and iced Champagne. Ernest Hemingway's signature cocktail.

(16) Pickleback Shot - two shot glasses - one with whiskey, the second one with a spicy, garlicky pickle brine.

(17) Leg Spreader - equal parts tequila, vodka, gin and rum.

(18) Wake the Dead - coffee liqueur, tequila, and chilled espresso. Can be served as a shooter or on the rocks.

(19) Drunken Elf - golden rum and pink lemonade with a candy cane garnish. The lip of the glass is rimmed with crushed candy cane.

(20) Lion's Tail - whiskey, allspice dram, bitters, simple syrup and lime juice with a lime twist.

(21) Goblet of Fire - coffee liqueur, citrus liqueur, sake, cream, 151 rum and grated cinnamon. The rum is floated atop the cream and set on fire.