When Severus had addressed her that morning in the journals, Marietta had been puzzled and naturally curious as to what he could possibly need her help with. It did not occur to her that it might be in her professional role, partly because nobody ever really thought Professor Snape cared about any of that, and partly because usually people just turned up when they needed something done. There wasn't this secrecy or embarrassment about it. Unable to figure it out, Marietta had shrugged her shoulders and carried on with her day. With no appointments that morning, she had worked on de-cluttering an already uncluttered space, and then settled down with a magazine full of pictures of models with different hair-styles and make-up. As she flicked through it, she tried to imagine the styles on different people in the village, just in case anybody came in and just asked for a make-over. It got boring quite quickly, however, and Marietta was on the verge of giving up the pretence of work and just going to the back room to fetch her book when the bell rang at the front of the salon. She looked up and saw Snape standing there awkwardly, and stood up to meet him, closing the magazine and putting it to one side.
"Professor," she addressed him. She knew he wasn't a professor here, but it was a matter of habit. Just having people around at all the wrong ages was strange enough, but having to think of them outside the roles she knew them in was even more to have to remember. "How can I help you today? Please, sit down. Would you like some tea?"