Potions and Snitches
Snape and Harry Gen Fanfiction Archive

Author's Chapter Notes:
*looks at how long it's been since an update, and winces*

Here, have a chapter . . .
Chapter 16

The Egyptian Parlour looked as though it had come straight out of an authentic Egyptian temple. With a ceiling that was almost the height of Hogwarts’ Great Hall, the room was split into sections by tall, slender white columns. The walls were pale, neutral colours, and were decorated here and there with sections of hieroglyphics. Severus had studied them at one point, and knew that they were the names of various wizarding pharaohs, scattered amongst runes for protection. Expensive looking vases alternated with white marble plinths that held statues of various figurines, usually of those the ancient Egyptian muggles had worshipped as gods.

 

At the far end of the room, grouped around an open fireplace in the middle of the floor, was a set of wicker furniture. The plump figure of Bertie Evergreen was seated in one of these chairs. Resting on a wicker table beside him was a silver tray, holding a sterling silver tea set.

 

“Severus, my boy!” Bertie beamed, as Severus led Potter across the room towards him. He did not get up from his chair. A broom accident some years before had damaged his spine beyond any healer’s ability to repair. Although he could walk – barely – getting in and out of chairs was a slow, agonising process that he didn’t undertake unless necessary. Remembering how active and athletic Bertie had been when he’d first met the man, Severus thought it was a shame.

 

“Bertie,” he greeted, as warmly as he was able. Of course, to most people, his tone wouldn’t have seemed any more friendly than he usually was, but Bertie had seen him grow up, and had known him before most of his masks had been developed.

 

Bertie raised an eyebrow as he looked behind Severus to where Potter was gawking unabashedly at the room. “Don’t tell me Albus is making you look after the sprogs during the summer, too?” he asked.

 

Severus snorted. “As if I’d agree to that,” he said. “There were—” the words felt sour in his mouth “—special circumstances. Bertie, this is Potter.”

 

“Potter? As in Harry Potter?” Bertie’s other eyebrow rose to join its fellow. “Lily’s boy?”

 

“One and the same,” Severus agreed. “Potter, this is Bertie Evergreen.”

 

Potter took a step closer to the two men, his fingers twisting anxiously together. The boy was practically vibrating with intensity. Severus glared at him, hoping to forestall any outburst that might be imminent. Unfortunately, apparently he’d worn the glare out when it came to Potter, as the brat didn’t even seem to notice it.

 

“Hello, sir,” he said breathlessly to Bertie, and then, with barely even a pause for breath, he blurted, “Did you know my mum, too, sir?”

 

Oh, Merlin! Severus groaned internally to himself.

 

“Not as such, no,” Bertie told him, glancing sideways and up at Severus as Potter’s face fell. “Only through what little I heard from Severus here, and through the grapevine.”

 

“Potter, go explore the room,” Severus ordered. “Bertie and I have business to discuss. Just don’t touch anything!”

 

“Yessir,” Potter muttered, disconsolately, and slouched off towards the other end of the room. Bertie watched him go, then turned to Severus with raised eyebrows.

 

Severus seated himself in the chair beside Bertie, and cast a sharp glance over to make sure that Potter wasn’t listening – or causing trouble. “Every person he meets cannot seem to help themselves from commenting on just how much like James Potter his offspring looks – except for the fact that he has Lily’s eyes. It is not helped by the fact that he gained a spot on the Gryffindor Quidditch team after his very first flight on a broom.”

 

“Ah, so everyone plies him with tales of how just like his father he is,” Bertie said, nodding in realisation. “Conveniently forgetting the poor boy has two parents.”

 

Believe me, I never forget who his parents are, Severus thought, bitterly. He cleared his throat, and turned his gaze away from the living reminder who was currently examining a vase with a pearl-like sheen, his hands clasped behind his back as though helping him to resist the urge to touch. “So, your letter said you were thinking of selling one of your animated models?” he asked, hoping to steer the conversation to safer waters.

 

“Yes,” Bertie agreed, after a pause and a frank gaze that said he knew exactly what Severus was doing. “You know how I hate to lose even one, but there is a new spinal treatment being proposed in Vienna. It may not, no, it will not completely cure me, but it may at least mean I am not reduced to either spending all day in whatever chair I choose in the morning, or in crippling agony.”

 

He paused, and waved a finger at the tea service. He had become very proficient at small wandless magics like that, mostly because it meant he didn’t have to move very far.

 

“Unfortunately,” he continued, as a tea cup floated over to Severus, “as you may expect from what is still a fairly experimental treatment, it is very expensive. Thus, when faced with a choice of keeping hold of my friends, or being able to move with less pain, the choice was fairly obvious.”

 

“No doubt,” Severus said, taking the cup. He took a small sip, then lowered it to the arm of his chair. “Although I noticed the one you advertised as possibly for sale was one of the duplicates you have.”

 

Bertie suddenly gave a big, booming laugh, throwing his head back in delight. Out of the corner of his eye, Severus saw Potter swing round at the noise, then turn away again when he realised it wasn’t because of something he’d done.

 

“Ah, Severus, it really would have to be a miracle cure before I ever give a thought to giving up a non-duplicate,” Bertie chuckled.

 

The corner of Severus’ mouth quirked upwards in a smile. If it hadn’t been a duplicate figure for sale, he doubted he’d be sat here now, as he’d likely have keeled over from the shock of it.

 

“Essy!” Bertie snapped his fingers, and the house-elf that had let them into the house popped into the room. “Please fetch the viewing stand and Marble,” he instructed her.

 

“Yes, sir, Master Bertie,” the elf said, bobbing her head in a respectful bow and popping out of the room again. Almost immediately, a small round table materialised between Severus’ and Bertie’s chairs.

 

“Essy will have to physically bring Marble in,” Bertie explained to Severus. “Marble’s fussy that way – doesn’t like being transported by magic.”

 

Severus raised his eyebrows. Perhaps being a duplicate wasn’t the only reason that this particular figure was being sold off.

 

“Um, sir?” Potter’s voice piped up from the other end of the room. “What does this do?”

 

Looking up, both men saw he was standing in front of an open display cabinet. The little wooden cuckoo bird inside was bobbing its head as it looked at him, tilting its head to peer up at the boy imperiously with first one eye, and then the other. Something inside the bird was glowing, and it was flashing regularly, little pulses that were almost invisible in the daylight.

 

“It’s an early warning system from an ancient tomb,” Bertie told the boy. “The bird was placed somewhere near the entrance, and if anybody stumbled upon the tomb – or actively went looking for it – then the bird would see them, and watch to see what they did. If it deemed them a threat, then it was linked to curses inside the tomb, which it could set off as and when necessary, leaving the tomb undisturbed.”

 

“And now it’s rigged into your security system?” asked Severus, knowingly.

 

Bertie laughed at him. “Indeed it is, my boy, indeed it is!” he chuckled.

 

“It looks alive,” Potter said, wonderingly, bending closer to look harder at the bird.

 

Severus rolled his eyes as Bertie laughed again. “That was the whole idea,” said Bertie. “Not much good having a secret alarm system, if your sentry gave the game away!”

 

Potter flushed, but before anything else could be said, the door to the Egyptian Parlour opened, and Essy walked through it very carefully. At first glance, it looked as though the elf was pretending to carry a box; it was only when she got closer that Severus realised she must be carrying an actual box that had been charmed invisible. Apparently floating a couple of inches above the elf’s hands was a figure of an Aethonian.

 

Reaching the table, the house-elf gingerly lowered the box to rest on it. The corners of the box were edged in metal, allowing the dimensions of the box to be seen, and also indicating where it was so that people could actually find it to lift it.

 

Potter shuffled his way over to them as Bertie leant forward and tapped a finger on the top of the box. “Come along, Marble,” he said, in a jovial tone. “You have company.”

 

Blinking slowly, the Aethonian seemed to come awake. It ruffled its wing feathers, and then unfolded its wings as far as they would go, flapping once, twice, before bringing the appendages back into its body. Stretching its neck out, it appeared to sniff the air, its muzzle wrinkling, before it drew back, shaking its head. Its mane flopped over its neck.

 

“Ohhh,” Potter breathed, sounding awe-struck. “It’s gorgeous!”

 

Severus had to admit that it was a very handsome figure. It had been named well, either by accident or design, as its acorn-brown body was streaked with paler browns and whites, making it look as though it were made out of actual marble.

 

The stallion was also apparently very susceptible to flattery, as at Potter’s words, it stuck its head out again, curving its neck and lifting its wings from its back, striking a pose so that all could admire it.

 

“Vain bugger,” Bertie said with a laugh. “He thinks he’s choosing new owners.”

 

“Oh?” Severus shot his friend a curious look. “He knows he’s leaving, then?”

 

The older wizard sighed. “He hasn’t given me much choice,” he murmured. “He may be a duplicate, but his temperament is not like the others’. He picked fights with two of the others, plus one with an Abraxan, too. He’s also taken a great dislike to one of the other Aethonians, and pushed it off their display shelf. If Essy hadn’t been there, then the poor thing would have been smashed to pieces.”

 

“So you think the best thing is to move him elsewhere?” Severus asked.

 

“It’s either that, or remove the charms from him,” Bertie pointed out, frowning at Severus. “He’s not a real stallion, my boy; I can’t have him gelded to calm his temper.”

 

“Couldn’t you just put him in another room?” Potter suddenly piped up, and both men turned abruptly towards him, having almost forgotten the young wizard was still in the room beside them.

 

“Good thinking, my boy,” said Bertie, beaming at him. “Unfortunately, most of my display rooms are full, and Marble doesn’t react very well to being left completely alone.”

 

“Am I going to have to fork out for another animated one to keep him company?” Severus asked, frowning. He’d barely be able to afford this one, and it was only by virtue of Bertie being his friend and willing to offer him a substantial discount.

 

Bertie shook his head. “No, no. He’s been quite alright so far with the non-animated Abraxans, likely because they’re too heavy for him to push around even when they don’t move, but he, ah, suffers separation anxiety if there’s no other figure in the room with him.”

 

“Separation anxiety?” asked Potter. He peered closely at the Aethonian figure as though expecting some flaw or disease to be visible.

 

“It means he panics when he thinks he’s completely alone,” Severus informed him. “In animals – even animated figurines – it can lead to very destructive behaviour.” He tapped a forefinger against his chin, mentally cataloguing his own collection and the space available in his house. “Mmm, I may have to clear some space from one of the bookcases downstairs,” he mused. “Probably best to keep him in eyesight for the immediate future.”

 

“Probably wise,” Bertie agreed. He looked down at the winged horse, who was looking back intently at Potter. “Well, Marble?” he prodded, tapping a finger on the glass box to draw attention to himself. “Are you happy to leave with Severus?”

 

The Aethonian flicked its tail, contemplatively, as it looked from Potter to Severus. Then it ruffled its wing feathers, mantled its wings for a brief moment, and then tossed its head in a nod as it tucked its wings back in close to its body.

 

“Good,” Severus said, giving a brisk nod of his own. He glanced at Potter. “Looks like you have your wish, Potter. We’ll be travelling back home via the Knight Bus.” He smirked, as Potter’s expression showed delight at not having to Apparate yet again, but then fell into lines of consternation as he remembered that first, wild trip.

 

Bertie clapped his hands. “So then!” he exclaimed, as Severus turned back to him. “Let’s talk money!”

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