The Death Debt

Chapter 11

Lady Black was a whirlwind of colours and fabric. The fur-lined edge of her green wool robes dusted the snow that covered the streets of Diagon Alley. "Come, come!" She called gaily and Severus, tall as he was, still had to scurry after her. He was a little in awe of this woman; she seemed to breeze through the world, the other pedestrians quickly moving out of her way with a nod and a tip of their hats, and Lady Black accepted this as an immutable fact. It all belonged to her. And, for some unknowable reason, instead of turning her nose up at Severus as almost everyone else had in his miserable life, she accepted him, took him in, was kind to him.

Very few people were kind to him. He didn't know how to respond. Even with Lily... he thought guiltily of the unfinished letter left lying on his desk. He didn't know what she was feeling right now, what she was thinking. He was a bad friend. He should tell her, but then he was scared he would have to explain-

If she thinks I'm dead, I'll never disappoint her again, he thought, which was stupid. The holidays would be over and they would be back at Hogwarts and it will be so much worse when she sees him sitting in the Great Hall as if nothing had happened.

Tomorrow. He'll finish the letter and send it tomorrow.

"We'll visit the tailor first," Lady Black said decisively. "And then the hairdresser. You have such lovely hair."

He felt his cheeks heat up and he self-consciously pulled at the ends of one limp, greasy lock. "I don't, really. It's greasy and-"

"It's greasy because you don't take care of it." Her tone offered no room for argument. "You must respect yourself first. How can you expect anyone else to respect you if you don't respect yourself?"

Is that why everyone thought they could walk all over him, from his father to the Marauders and on down? He had a feeling Lily would disagree with Lady Black's assessment, but maybe... maybe she was right. It couldn't hurt to try. Lucius was always harping on about his 'slovenly' appearance, but Severus had brushed it off because Lucius Malfoy was as vain as the peacocks he bred. Vainer, even. But hearing it from Lady Black struck a chord with him.

Lady Black took him to her tailor where he was made to stand on a little stool while a witch took his measurements. Severus edged away from her, her hands ghosting too close to his body for comfort.

"I need you to stand up straight," the witch said, irritation colouring her voice.

Lady Black appeared to take offense at the way this witch spoke to her ward, because she sneered at the poor, unsuspecting creature, "Perhaps if you used a Self-Measuring Tape instead of crawling around on the floor like a Muggle, he would be more relaxed."

"But this way is more accurate-" The witch tried to explain.

"I apologize, I thought with ears like yours you would be able to hear what I'm saying-" The witch blushed to the roots of her hair and one hand self-consciously rose toward her ear, where it stuck out from beneath her hair. "Or maybe it's not your hearing that is the problem, perhaps you're just too stupid to understand the words I am saying: he doesn't want your filthy hands touching him, now go get the Self-Measuring Tape."

The witch scrambled to her feet and with a mumbled, "Yes, ma'am," and a discreet wipe underneath her eye she hurried out of the room. Severus had to bite back a small smile; he felt pleased that Lady Black had so viciously defended him.

Lady Black shook her head as she watched her go. "These Muggleborns," she sighed. "More and more seem to be popping up everyday. This country is going to the dogs, I swear."

Severus floated into Grimmauld Place behind Walburga as the house-elf - Kreacher, Regulus introduced - carried their packages. He couldn't stop himself from running his fingers through his hair and glancing at his reflection in the windows they passed; Merlin, he was acting just like Potter. Someone save him if he started tossing a stupid snitch around.