Severus Snape (delicate_power) wrote in ridgewayresort, @ 2010-08-04 20:45:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, severus snape |
WHO: Severus and OPEN Lily
WHEN: Wednesday evening, after work
WHERE: The grocery store
WHAT: Browsing the book aisle (to start with)
RATING: Low
STATUS: Complete
Now he had all the ingredients he needed, Severus had set to brewing scads of Healing potions. Poison antidotes (though he also had a preponderance of bezoars, as well, thankfully), Calming Draughts, Blood-Replenishing Potion, bruise-healing paste, burn healing salve, cough potions, Draughts of Peace and Dreamless Sleep, Invigoration Draught, Murtlap Essence (though that wasn't so much 'brewing' as 'boiling'), and various strengths of sleeping draughts and pain potions.
He would need to consult some books in order to refresh his memory when it came to some of the more complex concoctions -- a Mandrake Restorative Draught sprang to mind -- and some things would take weeks or even months to brew, still, or mature at various steps of the process. For the most part, however, the medical center was currently everything that a well stocked infirmary ought to be. And it had only taken him two days. Madam Pomfrey would have been proud.
Only after accomplishing this small marathon of brewing did Severus notice his hunger, when suppertime rolled around. He had always had a bad habit of skipping meals when there was work to do -- mostly because he had always worked to take his mind off his hunger when he hadn't been able to afford food in the early days of running his apothecary. It rather became a habit, and he no longer noticed his grumbling stomach ... until he had run out of potions to make.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten, actually. Was it the previous afternoon, perhaps? One of those little orange fellows had presented him with a sandwich, during a break in his brewing and ... he didn't think he'd eaten anything since. Probably time he rectified that, he thought as he hung up his brewing apron and went to wash his hands.
Though he had been to his cabin, Severus had not yet met his roommate, because he had come home late and left early. Another habit left over from his apothecary days, as well as the years spent teaching. He apparently had a roommate, according to Mr. Petersen -- or possibly more than one, judging by the size of the cabin. But even if the person or persons happened to be especially kind (which, of course, made him think of Lily), he wouldn't expect to be fed, so that would necessitate a trip to the grocer's.
He had passed the establishment on his first day of work, on the way to the medical center, even if he had promptly forgotten all about food in the face of mountains of brewing to preoccupy him. He found his way back there quickly, therefore, and retrieved a small basket, once he was inside. First stop was the delicatessen area of the store, to pick up something hot for that evening, and that was followed by some prepared tinned and frozen meals that he could warm with his wand.
Rather than do anything so gauche as to write his name of his food, he would simply ward the packages so that none but he could open them. It wasn't that he didn't trust his roommate or roommates not to touch his things, exactly, but rather ... all right, it was that he didn't trust them. He didn't know these people at all. There was no telling what they might try to do to his food, and he made a mental note to get some bezoars to carry around on his person at all times, just in case.
As he made his way to the front of the grocer's to pay for his items, Severus noticed a small aisle devoted to books. He really shouldn't, considering he had just started his new job and had no idea of his budget, but ... it wouldn't hurt to have a look. He would need something to occupy his evenings, after all. Because it wasn't as if he and Lily would be spending time together. And books had always succeeded in distracting him before.
After setting down his basket, Severus began to browse the shelves idly, not looking for anything in particular. On the other hand, even if he wasn't looking for anything in particular, something in particular did quickly draw his attention. A green paperback with a gold lettering on the spine. But it wasn't merely the green cover or the gold lettering alone that drew his attention. After all, there was another green spine with gold lettering just a few spaces away that didn't raise his eyebrows nearly as much. It was the title.
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.
That was, quite literally, the last phrase he had ever expected to see on the spine of a book. Or at least not one of his own books. Severus stared for what had to be a full ten seconds before he worked up the nerve to pluck the book off the shelf. The front cover, however, was no less disturbing. Because there, "and the Half-Blood Prince" was written in his own hand, above a picture of Dumbledore and Potter staring into a basin that gave off a greenish glow.
Severus knew the potion within the basin instantly. He ought to. He had invented the thing for the Dark Lord, after all. And if that was what Dumbledore had drunk that night ... well, no wonder he'd begged for Severus to kill him once he appeared atop the Astronomy Tower. The Headmaster would have had a long and excruciating evening ahead of him, otherwise.
The book appeared to be the sixth one in a series of historical novels, possibly corresponding to Potter's years at school? He had been a sixth year, then, if memory served. That would mean ... the seventh book -- Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, it was called -- should cover the outcome of the war. All right -- perhaps he could see his way clear to buying one book.
He might even come back for the others, after he had a better idea of his finances. After all, they weren't written by Rita Skeeter. They might even give him an even-handed treatment, in spite of his many mistakes and flaws. Smiling at the very thought, Severus bent to retrieve his basket and tucked the book inside, before once again heading toward the front of the store.