The Master Potioneer

Harry circled slowly above the Leaky Cauldron, waiting for the intoxicated couple to walk by the pub they couldn't see and round the corner out of sight. After confirming the street was empty, Harry landed as fast as she dared, dropped her trunk and threw open the lid. In went her wand, glasses, broom and cloak.

The wand was useless with the trace it almost certainly had. Sure, it was dangerous to go without, especially at times like these. But all she needed was to walk in and rent a room. Just a few minutes tops and than she'd be free to spend the rest of the night enjoying some much desired alone time.

Besides, what were the chances Voldemort of all people would be in the pub, in the middle of the night no less? And for what? To enjoy a pint? He was probably to busy punishing his followers for being incompetent inbreeds while diabolically sipping up all of the Malfoys most expensive wine.

The broom and cloak were also useless, but more for the reason that they were too identifiable as belonging to Harry Potter. Even if those that saw them couldn't make the connection on who they belonged to, there weren't a lot of top of the line Firebolt racing brooms or perfectly invisible Invisibility Cloaks going around, alone or together. Those people who did see them but didn't make the connection would talk and, sooner or later, those people who could make the connection would be listening.

And finally, unfortunately, her glasses were much the same. After having his mug plastered so many times in the Daily Prophet, sporting the distinctive rounded lenses on the end of her nose now felt like tempting fate into having someone pay closer attention to her. It wasn't like she was so blind without them that she couldn't walk across a pub.

Taking a firm hold of the handle, Harry pushed open the door and stepped into the cauldron, dragging her trunk in behind.

"You know, Severus. If you just talked to me about what's gotten you all moody tonight, I might be able to save you from that lovely morning hangover you're earning." Mary remarked to the unlit booth in the corner, not looking up from the notes she was taking while comparing The Brothers Grimm and An Analytical Guide of Magical Europe's Folklore.

There was a controlled yet exasperated sigh from the booth. "Not tonight, Ms. Greenwood. I'm likely getting worked up for nothing anyways. Another drink though, if you would."

Mary Ann Greenwood rolled her eyes and left her hobby work on the bar counter to fix up another gin and tonic for her former professor.

Graceful fingers went to work with practiced ease, near paper white as the rest of her skin was. Working as a night maid in magical Britain had a funny way of doing that, not that Mary complained. With long ebony hair and onyx eyes, charcoal heels nearly hidden by a sable dress, that being protected by an obsidian apron, it wasn't hard to envision how Mary might be that special kind of odd duck that actually enjoyed working nights.

Yet while her looks made her seem only moderately strange by the wacky wizarding worlds standards, it was her love of the darker aspects of life, history and lore, both muggle and magical, that tended to push people over the edge and scare them away.

Cowards!

Mary hummed across The Leaky Cauldrons floor with an over the top sashay to the only customer in the entire inn. Swapping the pouting potioneers empty glass for the full, she plopped down across from him.

"So is it something going on at the castle?" She prodded, plucking an ice cube from the empty glass and sticking it in her mouth to suck on. "All the non-noble, non-pureblood families finally wise up, pull their kids out of school and jump ship for the states till this all blows over?"

"Were it so simple. The Ministry would become serious about dealing with our situation for the simple fact of all the tax money it would stand to lose." There was a disgusted curl to the corner of Snapes mouth at his own words before he was rid of it by taking a draw of his drink. He cast his dark eyes warily around the tavern over the rim of the cup. "I have a hunch that we may see the situation return to one of... Normality."

"Oh? Normal's good." The dark lady quirked a dark eyebrow. "While I enjoy all the study time I'm getting in, kinda hard to pay the bills without any tips."

The young woman rested her head in her hands and hit Snape with the old puppy dog eyes, batting her eyelashes at him in an over the top manner. To his credit, Severous only reacted with a slightly annoyed eye roll, though he did lay a few sickles on the table.

"Thank you Professor Snape!" The goth said in a girly, sing song tone, drawing out his name like she had back in her early school days as she collected the coins.

"You're lucky you were such a good potions student." He grumbled.

"The only Hufflepuff you ever detentioned your snakes for going after." She replied proudly.

Snape would have given the woman an annoyed grunt for that but the opening of the front door cut him off. Despite the several drinks already in his system, his wand was in hand and aimed at the entryway before it was even half open. Mary wasn't nearly as quick, her hand down her aprons front pocket and fingers finding the handle of her own wand only after the unknown had taken a step into the tavern.

Harry grunted, dragging his trunk loudly through the entryway with one hand while holding the door open with the other. She could swear the thing had gotten heavier on the flight over here.

Get it inside, she let the door close before beginning the task of lugging the chest over to the bar counter when a feminine voice from the side made her jump - and most definitely did not make her squeak - in surprise.

"Hold a second there, miss. I'll help you with that. Can't have you waking up all zero of our guests."

Looking towards where the voice originated from, a figure that most certainly did not belong to Old Tom approached out of the darkness and made Harry gawk when she came into focus. It was like someone had taken the front cover of a muggle Goth magazine he'd seen in the petrol station once and combined it with the front cover of Witch Weekly before giving it human form.

So unexpected was her appearance that it took Harry a moment to realize that while her dress and apron covered her near completely, they did the opposite of hide her eye ensnaring form, actually accentuating it with how impossibly well they fit her physique.

"I love magic." Harry couldn't help thinking despite the odd mixing sparks of desire and envy going off within.

"Uh... Sorry?" She remarked lamely, forcing her eyes up.

"I'm only pulling your leg, miss. Like I said, not anyone staying here tonight. You here to change that or just passing through to the alley?" The witch, who Harry figured to be around college aged, levitated the trunk half a foot off the ground with a swish and a word.

"I am. Here for a room, I mean."

"Brilliant. That'll put a smile on Tom's face in the morning. We haven't had someone rent a room in weeks. Follow me over to the counter and I'll get you set up."

Harry did, oblivious to her potions professor watching her with a more curious then cautious eye from the corner.

"Alright." The woman who Harry reasoned to be the night maid said as she pulled out the registry. "Name?"

Harry blinked. Uh-oh.