Witch Hunt

10

Spinner's End was a small, mostly abandoned village by the textile industry in Cokeworth. Home to low-income families and less than savoury types, it had a bad reputation. Luckily for the wizarding folk of the area, it was exactly the sort of place one could hide in for years without suspicion.

Kate had had to live as much as a non-magical life as possible in the time she was in hiding so as not to alert authorities. In Tuscany, it had been easier to use magic, no one knew her there. Back in the UK, it was far trickier not to get caught for even the simplest of spells. She had taken to learning how to cook and clean without the help from magic, how to put things away and carry several bags at once from the market.

There was a farmer's market a short walk away from the house that she had taken a liking to. A quaint little setup with agriculture vendors that came by every week to sell their goods throughout the year. It had become a calming ritual; walking down to the market, choosing her vegetables, speaking with the farmers, picking up some milk and the cheese of the month, conversing with the butcher about his three sons and how his wife was doing. She very rarely stepped out of the house, only when absolutely necessary. She had bought seeds from the market in order to grow her own fresh herbs, flowers and small fruits.

She supposed the gardening kept her busy. In the winter, she took in the plants and grew what she could within the four walls of the basement laboratory. When Snape came home on the weekends, he would help her keep them alive with his magic. If only to see her happy with the progress she had made with the plants.

The witch was at the market that day, chatting with the woman who made poultices from herbs. Her deep crimson cloak was starkly out of place against the dull colours of the town square, her hair pulled up and pinned back from her face, her canvas bag in hand as it overflowed with produce and fresh bread, still warm from the oven.

The man chuckled, spotting her from afar. How people never questioned her attire, he could not understand. Though, he suspected he looked just as out of place with his long Victorian style coat. He approached the witch slowly, reaching out to place a hand on the small of her back, just to alert her of his presence.

She looked up at him quickly, startled from her conversation. The panic cleared from her eyes and she sighed, a hand on her chest. "Galloping gargoyles, Severus," she chastised. "You frightened me. Don't sneak up on me like that, you know what it does to my nerves."

Taking pleasure in her shock, he smirked, rubbing circles into her back. "Easy does it, Katie. You should be just fine."

The vendor manning the stall smiled at them, gesturing to the man. "This must be your husband. I've seen him around some, not as often as you, mind you."

Kate grimaced and shook her head quickly. "Oh heavens, no. We aren't married. I mean, he isn't my- We aren't... Oh, sod it. He's my friend."

Snape's smirk grew as the witch by his side grew more and more uncomfortable from the interaction. "Eloquent as ever, Potter." he muttered, nudging her lightly.

She turned to him, brown eyes fiery. "Oh, you! How did you find me anyway? How did you know I wouldn't be home?"

He let out a short breath and practically rolled his eyes. "It is Thursday afternoon, where else would you be?"

She swallowed thickly. "Am I that predictable?"

The other woman snorted. "Well, if your husband won't tell you, I will. You're here every Thursday. I'll eat my hat before I bet on your absence."

The witch let out a strained laugh. "He really isn't my husband."

The man offered her his arm, which she immediately took, some deeply ingrained and automatic movement that came from her subconscious. "Come now, Katie. Time to go," he thanked the stand owner and leaned in to add: "It's her memory, she keeps forgetting how many years have gone by. That we aren't schoolchildren anymore."