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chamberofsnogsLysienne waited patiently at the bottom of the spiraling staircase, her trunk beside her and Rolan frisking around her, caught up in her suppressed excitement and anxiety. Syrien usually Apparated her to Wizarding London, but she couldn't help but giggle at his strange attire as he came down the stairs. It looked exactly like the pictures of vampires that Professor Lockhart had in his textbook in Third Year: long black cloak, frills, high collar and everything!
He raised an eyebrow at her and asked, “Suitable for venturing into Knockturn Alley, don’t you think?”
She stopped laughing. “Ho-how did you know?” she stammered, then silently cursed herself.
He grinned, looking for a moment like an older brother helping a little sister keep a secret from their parents. “Let’s just say--an educated guess?”
“But…but didn’t you say that you’re not supposed to meddle in Wizarding affairs?” Lysienne protested.
“And that is why I’m counting on you to defend us both if we get into trouble.” He ruffled her hair, then placed a hand on her shoulder and Apparated.
Knockturn Alley was much less scary this time with Syrien walking behind Lysienne almost like a bodyguard. Though there were still eyes following them from the shadows, she didn’t get the feeling that they were about to be ambushed at any moment.
The apothecary shop was where she remembered it, and they reached it in far less time now that Lysienne could rely on memory instead of just a few scribbled directions from an old Potions textbook. The shop always looked closed, but the door will open for the witch or wizard who taps on it three times with their wand with a pause between the second and third taps. Lysienne was reaching for her wand when the door suddenly swung open, and a tall man wearing a long cloak and hood walked out. He stopped when he saw the pair and looked at Lysienne as if he somehow recognized her beneath her own hood. His eyes seemed to meet Syrien's for a moment--then they bowed slightly to each other, and the man walked on. Lysienne looked up at Syrien curiously, but he nudged her towards the door silently.
The shop owner, an old wizard with a face full of wrinkles and a long ragged beard, looked suspiciously at Syrien, but said nothing until Lysienne handed him the little brass chip he had given her on her last visit. Then he hurried into the back room and brought out what looked like a steaming crystal cube.
“Careful with that, Miss,” he warned her, and Lysienne nodded and packed it carefully away into the box of ice she had brought in her bag. Then she paid him and left.
Syrien never entered the train station, so Lysienne said her goodbye to him outside. He looked at her for a long moment and said, “I’m proud of you, Lysienne. You’ve learned and grown so much these past few years. This last year will be the hardest, but I think you know now that you have friends who will be there for you if you need them. Just don’t forget that the Healer sometimes needs to be healed too, so don’t refuse help when it’s offered. Do what you need to. Your staff will be waiting when you’re ready to claim it.”
She hugged him hard and ran off with her luggage before he could see her begin to cry. She merged quickly into the crowd of people entering the station, but stopped abruptly in front of the Daily Prophet stand even as several Muggles skirted it without ever realizing that their feet had taken them around an invisible object. Severus Snape, long-standing Potions master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was today appointed headmaster in the most important of several staffing changes at the ancient school, she read, and her eyes widened.
He raised an eyebrow at her and asked, “Suitable for venturing into Knockturn Alley, don’t you think?”
She stopped laughing. “Ho-how did you know?” she stammered, then silently cursed herself.
He grinned, looking for a moment like an older brother helping a little sister keep a secret from their parents. “Let’s just say--an educated guess?”
“But…but didn’t you say that you’re not supposed to meddle in Wizarding affairs?” Lysienne protested.
“And that is why I’m counting on you to defend us both if we get into trouble.” He ruffled her hair, then placed a hand on her shoulder and Apparated.
Knockturn Alley was much less scary this time with Syrien walking behind Lysienne almost like a bodyguard. Though there were still eyes following them from the shadows, she didn’t get the feeling that they were about to be ambushed at any moment.
The apothecary shop was where she remembered it, and they reached it in far less time now that Lysienne could rely on memory instead of just a few scribbled directions from an old Potions textbook. The shop always looked closed, but the door will open for the witch or wizard who taps on it three times with their wand with a pause between the second and third taps. Lysienne was reaching for her wand when the door suddenly swung open, and a tall man wearing a long cloak and hood walked out. He stopped when he saw the pair and looked at Lysienne as if he somehow recognized her beneath her own hood. His eyes seemed to meet Syrien's for a moment--then they bowed slightly to each other, and the man walked on. Lysienne looked up at Syrien curiously, but he nudged her towards the door silently.
The shop owner, an old wizard with a face full of wrinkles and a long ragged beard, looked suspiciously at Syrien, but said nothing until Lysienne handed him the little brass chip he had given her on her last visit. Then he hurried into the back room and brought out what looked like a steaming crystal cube.
“Careful with that, Miss,” he warned her, and Lysienne nodded and packed it carefully away into the box of ice she had brought in her bag. Then she paid him and left.
Syrien never entered the train station, so Lysienne said her goodbye to him outside. He looked at her for a long moment and said, “I’m proud of you, Lysienne. You’ve learned and grown so much these past few years. This last year will be the hardest, but I think you know now that you have friends who will be there for you if you need them. Just don’t forget that the Healer sometimes needs to be healed too, so don’t refuse help when it’s offered. Do what you need to. Your staff will be waiting when you’re ready to claim it.”
She hugged him hard and ran off with her luggage before he could see her begin to cry. She merged quickly into the crowd of people entering the station, but stopped abruptly in front of the Daily Prophet stand even as several Muggles skirted it without ever realizing that their feet had taken them around an invisible object. Severus Snape, long-standing Potions master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was today appointed headmaster in the most important of several staffing changes at the ancient school, she read, and her eyes widened.
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