InsaneJournal

“Waltzes, I think. Waltzes are easiest. I remembered having to learn for...” my wedding, Lily nearly said, but caught herself just in time. Or maybe it wasn’t just in time, because now there was only an awkward silence to colour in the absence at the end of her sentence, underscored by the soft intonations of Strauss, or maybe Tchaikovsky, floating out from the record player. There was a glass of wine in her hand now, and she had had a glass of wine prior to coming over to her husband’s school archrival's house.

She justified it as an aid to relax in the stressful aftermath of the start of this new war, and relaxing was more conducive to keeping rhythm, which made for easier movement and better teaching, surely. Surely. “You’ve never had to learn to dance? At all?” And what was unsaid: given the company you’ve kept. It was testament to aforementioned relaxation techniques that the implied did not bother her at the moment.

"There were events, of course, but if one is not courting, there are ways to avoid certain social obligations," Severus said, taking a sip of the red wine in his hand. He hadn't known if she'd show up. After the way they'd left things, well, they would need to be extremely light on their feet to avoid tripping over certain topics. And Severus did not want to be reminded of what he'd confessed to Lily. "It's much easier for a young man to slip out unnoticed from the festivities than a young woman. And much less scandal. Besides, the events I've been required to attend are more the sort where the men retire to the library after dinner. I'm not exactly an eligible bachelor in those circles so there is little need to press young women into my arms."

The thought caused her pause. She tried to imagine Severus at such events, disdain writ clear across his face. Or maybe he would be more subtle than that -- bland neutrality, pressed against the wall, every line and angle of his body forbidding anyone’s approach. All those years. She tried to imagine what she would have done at such occasions, but then, if she hadn’t married James Potter, she’d never have had the chance to brush elbows with that sort in the first place.

She didn’t ask why he hadn’t chosen to court anyone in all those years.

Setting her glass down, she stepped into the centre of the room. The furniture had been pushed all to the sides, created a modicum of space with which to practise. Her arms splayed wide; she gave him a softer smile. “Alright. The waltz.”

Severus set done his glass and followed her to the centre of the room. Gathering his courage, he wrapped one hand around Lily's waist while the other gently cradled her hand. He may have avoided dancing for years, but he had watched more than one ball. "You must promise not to laugh at me. And I shall do my best not to step on your toes." He gave her what he hoped was a light smile. At this proximity, he could smell her and wanted nothing more than to draw her into his arms.

“I doubt either would happen,” she said, meeting his gaze and then letting hers fall to somewhere about his shoulders. Perhaps, in retrospect, the wine had been a poor choice, for suddenly she felt hyper-aware of his hand around hers, the other a light but steady touch just above her hip, the curious intimacy of formal dance. She remembered reading how the waltz was a relatively new dance to England; its novel physical contact with just one partner deemed ever so scandalous. “At its most simple, it’s essentially a box step performed in triple time. I’ll lead.” She turned her face up, flashed him a fleeting smirk, found the steady, easy rhythm within the music itself and stepped out. The movements uncomplicated and simple, she had little doubt he’d pick it up quickly and easily. It was something that was probably beneath him in terms of a challenge, but she was hardly an expert herself.

There was a brief stumble before Severus fell into step, caused not by ineptitude, but by distraction from gazing at the way the light glinted off Lily's hair. Soon enough his gaze rested on hers, dark eyes meeting her green ones. "Were all your friends okay?"

The dance really was too simple. It allowed her to think about other things with too much ease. “No,” she said, then suddenly introduced a new twist to their routine set of movements by added an extra turn on the second count. “The Death Eaters?”

His hand tightened on her waist at the change in the dance, or the mention of the Death Eaters, as he followed her lead. "No. It will be some time before some of them are recovered." He wasn't sure what he expected from this, but certainly any extra time spent with Lily was good, regardless.

There was some small part of her that could not deny the vicious sense of satisfaction to hear it, not when Moody had spent a week unconscious, permanently maimed. It was an ugly thought, and still she hated herself for thinking it, and in her anger at herself, felt a spike of irritation towards him as well for even bringing the whole matter up when she had only just gotten her mind wrapped around the matter again, meted out in the clench of teeth, her gaze set to just over his shoulder at the slowly revolving room. “So we both retreat to lick our wounds.”

"And see what the election brings," Severus said, softening his hold on Lily just a smidge, relaxing into the position as they moved across the floor. "Have I told you that the owner intends on us having a booth for the carnival? What idiocy can a potions shoppe do at such an event?"

She was more grateful for the topic change than she could ever let on -- too eager to be amused at his transparent disgust. “Oh, but what fun potions will be handed out? Pepper up? Hmm, something which turns one’s hair pastel? I had been planning on attending,” she said, a grin growing across her lips. For all of their renewed friendship, she had yet to see him interact with, well, customers -- and had a hard time picturing it, honestly. “I’ll have to be sure to visit.”

Severus groaned. "We are not the Weasleys, nor would I consent to handing out something as droll as pepper up. And he claims that my black work robes are unsuitable and dour," Severus bemoaned, rolling his eyes emphatically. "I expect he wants carnival games or some rubbish. I have no idea why. Our business is perfectly successful."

Lily couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out, missing her next step altogether for it -- it seemed she would be laughing at him tonight after all. But she’d argue she could hardly be blamed for the almost disconcerting image of Severus Snape wearing cheerfully coloured robes amidst spring carnival festivities. “Sev -- it’s spring. It’s supposed to be cheerful. It’s a celebration of life and warmth and cheer after a long, cold winter. It’s a tradition as old as time.”

Her misstep caused his leg to collide with hers and he scowled. "And we're a potions shoppe, not a parfumery or a milliner or a sweet shoppe. What are we supposed to do - hold a beetle grinding contest? It's ludicrous, Lily."

“It’s promotion, Sev.” She paused in order to straighten herself out. “Which, I hear is necessary to stay competitive. Though I don’t see why they can’t get that,” she briefly considered, and then smiled, “cute shop boy of yours to carry out the particulars. I’m sure he’ll set all the ladies’ hearts a flutter. Never before has potions making been so fascinating.”

Severus rolled her eyes and gave Lily a look. "The potions speak for themselves. There is no need for any silly promotions or gimmicks. Ethan? Sweet Merlin, he's a shop boy, not some public entertainer, Lily. The boy's only a few year's out of school. He's like a scared mouse half the time. You've seen him."

His reaction sparked a wider smile. “That may be all very well and true for those who understand the true value of the art, but you try telling, nevermind selling, the public that.” Finally, she gave up all pretense to maintaining the waltz -- he had it well in hand by now anyway. “I’m surprised you’ve still tolerated working for another this long.”

He stopped moving but his hand remained on Lily's waist, a featherlight touch. "I haven't the capital to open my own shoppe and there are places where having the right blood and the right surname still matters. You are, unfortunately, correct. Few understand what it takes even to make a small vial."

She gazed up at him quietly, and after a long moment, said, “When I was at Hogwarts, I was always told by everyone I would go on to do great things. That’s all I heard, left and right. Great things. No one could tell me specifically what. I knew I was talented enough, smart enough. But I’m muggleborn, and my family were barely above working class, and that would always keep many doors closed to me that no amount of skill or mind could overcome.” And then she married a wealthy pure blooded man, and while she still didn’t feel like her ambitions had been fully realised (the war had seen to that), she had certainly climbed out of a deep hole with the aid of plenty of rope. “Sometimes I feel like I cheated.”

"That's because you're a Gryffindor," Severus said fondly, resisting the urge to tuck her hair behind her ear. "A Slytherin wouldn't see it that way. It's just getting ahead however you can." Severus pulled back at that, knowing what he had done to get where he was and went to refill wineglasses, dancing forgotten. "I could have a shoppe of my own by next week if I was willing to be indebted to certain people for the rest of my life. But I'm not. My position is precarious enough as is, I've no desire to become the puppet of some moneyed pureblood simply to have my own shoppe."

“What if…” Lily paused, watching his precise flow of movements, from tipping the glasses to the slow, expert pour. It was risky -- she knew Severus didn’t enjoy being indebted to anyone if he could help it. “What if I were to front you the starting capital?”

Severus wasn't sure if he had heard her right and he nearly dropped the bottle of wine. As it were, his body stiffened and it took effort to finish the pour and set the bottle on the table. He passed her a glass. "I couldn't. You couldn't. Po- I doubt your husband would approve."

She accepted the glass and shrugged. “I’ve been in control of Potter money for almost two decades. As far as James is concerned, it’s mine to do with as I want. What better way to spend it than to invest in what is certain to be a profitable business venture?” The more she defended the idea, the more it began to appeal to her -- finally, something useful and valuable to funnel all that pureblood wealth into besides politics and the never-ending battle of trying to cut back the hedgegrows. “Besides, you’re the one who’s been encouraging me to get back into Potions.”

"I've half a mind to ask you if you've had too much to drink." The other half of him, however, was intrigued by the possibility. His own shoppe. Certainly he had dreamt of it, but he also wanted more time to pursue his research and not just brew Pepper Up for dittering old ladies. The wine in his hand was forgotten as he turned the idea over in his mind, considering it seriously.

As if sensing his softening stance, Lily took a drink of her wine before setting her own glass down. “Just think -- you could set your own hours, determine what you make and sell, no longer beholden to the whims of customers. You could either pay me back in full when you’ve recovered your costs and profited -- or we could be business partners, you and I. What better way to get back into an old passion?”

Perhaps that was why Severus was hesitating. It was one thing to rekindle his friendship with Evans, to see her every so often on his terms. It was another to enter into a business partnership with her, potentially seeing her daily. "If we go forward on this, it is as partners. I won't accept charity, even in the form of a loan, and I have no intent to be beholden to anyone."

“Yes, yes.” She stopped herself in time from rolling her eyes -- sometimes Severus really was just that predictable, but a smile started to creep in anyway. “You are a strong, proud, independent male, etcetera. I’ll have you know, I fully expect a good return on my investment.”

Severus snorted and rolled his eyes and the comment. "Did you have a location in mind?"

“Well. I suppose I’ll have to start researching real estate. Diagon rates have really skyrocketed in the last few years, and if we intend on catering to a...more selective clientele, we don’t necessarily need to worry about being in a high traffic area. Maybe Hogsmeade. I think Godric’s Hollow is still reasonable.” Lily bit her lip and leaned back against the wall behind her. Here she was again, gallivanting off on some new adventure without having the first clue as to what she was doing. She did, however, have the patience to research.

"There's always the possibility of buying out my current employer and bringing it under new management," Severus suggested. He raised an eyebrow at her suggestion of selective clientele. She would have excelled in Slytherin. "Either of those would work. Off a main road, regardless of location. It's certainly worth looking into. Provided you'd be willing to handle the front of the shop."

“You can attract more flies with honey, Severus. Yes, I should think I better had.” Lily smiled, pleased at the imagined near future. Finally, she raised her hand to him, palm open. “What do you say, partner? Have we a tentative deal?”

There was more to say, details to work out, how to detail with her husband's inevitable protests, and what this meant about their extra curricular activities. Despite all that, his hand found Lily's and he shook it firmly. What was he getting himself into? "We do."