The baker and the potion master

Chapter twenty three: the deal is drewed

Right at 10 AM, the door chimed, and in walked Weasley. He gave Severus another two-fingered salute as a greeting. "Morning, sir."

"Amazing," Severus drawled. He glanced up at the clock. "It was Potter making you late every time. I'm pleased that it hasn't infected you, Weasley, this disregard for appointments and timetables."

Weasley chuckled and shrugged. "Yeah, not all of us are scatterbrained the way Harry is." The young man withdrew his wand. "We'll put in the next layer of anti-theft wards. This one won't let things leave the shop without paying. Won't take but a minute to set, sir. Unfortunately, means I can't do anything more for at least three days. If I add more, well, it's going to be hard to sell anything when no one can pick anything up, yeah?"

Severus waved a hand at him, turning towards today's demonstration cauldron. "Do what you need to do, Weasley."

Weasley walked the perimeter of the shop and made his way through to the back, touching his wand to various corners. The magic crackled after each spell was cast, the building absorbing the magic and the protective web Weasley had started strengthened. Severus could feel it brush against his own magic as it recognized him as the master of the shop. There was a permanence to it, as it wormed its way into his core.

Weasley thumped a hand against one of the door frames. "There. Solid now, sir. It's going to really sink in for the next three days. Then it'll be ready for other protections."

"Excellent, Weasley."

Weasley nodded. "Well, see you same time, same place, three days from now. Let me know right away if there's any issues, though."

"I shall."

Weasley exited and Severus began the delicate process of brewing Draught of Peace for the day's demonstration. Brewing always settled him, calming his mind. It was still quiet this early in the morning. He had only been open around forty minutes when the door opened again.

"Good morning, Master Snape," the grandfather greeted. "I hope you have had more time to look over the contract."

Another figure, covered in a hooded silver robe, entered after him. It must be the mysterious healer. They stood, head bowed and hands concealed by the voluminous sleeves.

Severus nodded. "I have. I find most of it more than generous."

"Good. I hoped you would say that. It's vital that your talent be properly compensated and respected." The grandfather tilted his head, peering over the rim of his glasses. The gesture unsettled Severus, reminding him far too much of Dumbledore. "I suspect a but, there."

"But it also seems too good to be true."

"Always suspicious," a feminine voice drawled. "You wouldn't be you if you weren't, my darling Severus."

Pale and elegant hands pulled down the hood to reveal white-gold hair. Thin pink lips quirked into a smile, reaching icy blue eyes, thawing them. Narcissa Malfoy stood before him, a pleased expression crossing her delicate features. A musical chuckle filled the air with tinkling amusement.

"Narcissa?" Severus stared at her, eyes narrowed. He crossed his arms, hiding his hands in his wide sleeves.

The last time she had come to him in secret, she had begged him to make an Unbreakable Vow, all to save her precious son no matter the cost to Severus' soul. It hadn't mattered that it had largely been unnecessary. Dumbledore had forced him to be the great wizard's executioner before the distressed mother had come to beg for Draco Malfoy to be spared the impossible task of assassinating the powerful Headmaster.

"Don't act so surprised, Severus." Narcissa glanced around the shop, scrutinizing it. She ran a long finger over a counter. "After all, who healed most who faced the worst of the Dark Lord's wrath? Who else has had a chance to study the long-term effects of Cruciatius up close? I have been building an elite clientele since after the War."