The baker and the potion master

Chapter one: the custard set

With utmost care, Severus Snape set the last jar onto the shelf, his finger sliding down its smooth surface in deep thought. He glanced around the shop — his shop — satisfied. It had taken him the last six months to get Prince's Bewitchin' Brews off the ground, but here it was: a reality. Dark wooden shelves lined the shop, stocked with ingredients and finished potions alike. The glass jars had distinctive shapes. Some were globes while others stood tall and fluted.

There were red ones, blue ones, green ones and black ones. Severus had arranged them according to color. Those that needed the opaqueness of black or blue would be put in the furthermost corner from the window to protect the potion contained inside. The labels on each one had elegant lettering in a swooping script. Severus' handwriting may be cramped but his magical lettering need not be. It reflected the precision and grace he wanted to convey to all of his customers. It would be a signature of his shop.

The crisp smell of cedar permeated the shop as incense wafted through the air. Severus wanted to avoid the malodorous stench that had hung over the dungeons at Hogwarts from shrouding his shop. Underlying that, there was the newness and freshness of this new start. Severus could taste its pureness as he took a deep breath. A tranquil silence filled the shop. It gave it a hushed atmosphere, as if any loud sound would disrupt its delicate balance. This calm and peacefulness would become a hallmark of Prince's Bewitchin' Brews. There would be no exploding cauldrons or shouting in his shop if Severus could help it.

Every detail of this shop reflected Severus somehow, from the green and silver provided accents throughout to the elegantly painted shop name that decorated the front window. Severus had painted them personally — without magic.

This had been his dream once, before. Before everything went wrong. Before life happened to him instead of for him. Before he sacrificed his own dream to follow another's. Now he had a second (or hundredth) chance to finally do this. And he'd be damned if he took it for granted.

Severus took a deep breath, relishing in the satisfaction of seeing his Potions shop come to fruition. He hoped that it would exceed all expectations — and silence his critics.

The war had been over for three and a half years and each breath was still a gift. He had never expected to survive, and in those last moments of that final battle, he had stared into Lily's eyes — no, Potter's — with the utmost certainty they would be the last thing he would ever see.

When he'd woken in St. Mungo's, still recovering from Nagini's bite, that emerald gaze was burned into his mind. Now that emerald gaze haunted Severus's dreams.

Severus's recovery had been difficult and long, six months in St. Mungo's. He had been appointed his own private nurse and hospital suite, a fact that still confused him. No one would tell Severus who his strange benefactor was—even when he pulled out his best intimidating scowl.

He had also been spared a sentence in Azkaban — courtesy of the Boy Who Lived's impassioned testimony on his behalf. Disconcertingly, Severus found himself the object of tragic hero worship.

His face was plastered on the pages of the newspapers, with ridiculous articles like "The Spy Who Lived". The Quibbler was the worst. Xenophilius was overcompensating for the lies printed during the war with front-page stories about The Boy Who Lived Twice and humiliating exposés like "Snape: The Lonely Headmaster". It had been so bad for a time that Severus could hardly enter Diagon Alley without being bombarded by crying mothers, grabbing onto his cloak, crying their thanks. Thankfully, the media circus had only lasted six months.

Severus wasn't sure if he wanted to repay Potter for saving him from Azkaban or shake him for throwing him into the very public spotlight.

Severus blinked, dispelling the thoughts. He now had a prestigious shop located in Diagon Alley — and the coveted Hogwarts contract. A pleased smile twisted his lips thinking about the new Potions Professor who would have to endure teaching the dunderheads.