Five

Chapter Five

The drive to Peyia wasn't long, and soon they were entering the town proper. Martin drove up and down the busy main street trying to find a parking spot.

"We passed the car park three times," Snape said.

"I don't pay for parking – on principle," Martin grumbled. "The blood-sucking bureaucrats in charge of this island are always trying to find ways to get more money from the over-burdened citizenry!"

"I'll pay for the fucking parking, Martin," Snape said, "and you can continue your civic protest after I'm gone. I haven't got all bloody day, you know."

Thus mollified, Martin entered the Municipal car park. He found a space near the exit.

"This spot's for motorbikes only," Snape said as he pointed to the sign. "Besides, you'll never fit into it."

"Any Muggles around?" Martin asked as he slipped his wand from his sleeve.

Snape glanced around, but at the moment, the area they were in was empty of both vehicles and pedestrians.

"No."

"Good." Martin flicked his wand, and the little car slid sideways into the parking spot with less than an inch between his car and the ones he'd parked between. He wriggled out of the driver's seat and flicked his wand at the offending sign. "I'll lift the Invisibility Charm from it when we leave. I can't afford another ticket!"

They walked down the street and Martin led them into a small taverna.

A bronze bell over the door tinkled as they entered. A tall, stately looking woman in a flowing toga-like robe glided from her spot behind the wooden counter and approached them with her arms extended widely.

"Martin! It's been too long." She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him warmly. Then she kissed his cheeks soundly and finished with a smacking kiss on his lips.

"Arethusa, love, I was here two weeks ago," Martin said as he returned her enthusiastic greeting.

"Too long!" Arethusa insisted. "But I'll forgive you if you introduce me to your companion." She cast a speculative look at Snape, her eyes openly appraising him.

"Leave him alone, Arethusa," Martin said with a chuckle. "His name is Severus Snape. He's an old friend and a very distant cousin. And he's to be married this evening."

She sighed. "What a pity. But if you'll leave him with me for an hour or so, I might convince him to change his mind." She lifted her hand to Snape's shoulder and let it drift down his arm caressingly.

"Forgive her, Severus," Martin said. "She claims to be descended from the Sirens and fancies herself irresistible."

"It's a good thing I don't believe in myths, then, isn't it?" Snape said as he gently brushed her hand away.

Arethusa gave a soft trilling laugh. "If I can't seduce you, can I offer you lunch? The lamb stew is freshly-made."

"We need to go through," Martin said, "but we'll be back in a couple of hours. Save some of the stew for us, would you?"

"Of course I will," she said with a smile. "Follow me."

She led them down a short hallway toward the back of the taverna. There were three doors at the end of the hallway, two of them obviously the men's and women's toilets. The third had a sign that read, 'Employees only' in both Greek and English.

She used a key to open this door. She flicked on the light switch and then gestured them inside.

"Enjoy your visit, Severus."

"Thank you."

She closed the door, leaving Martin and Severus inside the small room. Snape heard the lock snick as the key turned.

Martin turned toward the back wall of the room, which appeared to be a janitor's cupboard. He waved his wand over the wall, and another small door appeared. He opened the door, and sunlight spilled into the cupboard.

He stepped through, and Snape followed him. The wall behind them reformed, although the outline of the door remained.

"Welcome to Calypso Court, Severus," Martin said. "It's not as grand as Diagon Alley, but it serves the needs of those witches and wizards who chose to live on Cyprus."

Snape looked around. Although not nearly as crowded as Diagon Alley, even on a quiet day, there were still a number of people about. Some carried string bags; others were looking into shop windows.

"I didn't realise there were so many magical folk living here."

"We've had a bit of a bump in the population in the last several years – many people left Britain when it became obvious that there would be the trouble with the Dark Lord again. We've also had a few join us over the last year or so – for reasons I'm sure you're aware of. Come on, I'll give you the fifty Knut tour."

As they walked down the narrow street, Martin nodded politely to a few people, but he didn't stop to introduce Snape to anyone.

"There's no regular owl post on the island, of course, as it would attract too much attention from the Muggles, but you can send and receive messages and smaller packages from Hermes Owl Service." Martin pointed to a shop on his right.

"There isn't really a wizarding community, as such; most of us live and work among the Muggles. We don't need robes too often, but Madam Malkin keeps a few on hand here." He pointed to the left this time.

"Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour ... so this is where he went," Snape said as they skirted a couple of small metal tables and matching chairs placed in front of a shop with an elaborately painted window.

"Right-o. The good guys thought the bad guys had got to him, and the bad guys kept looking for him thinking that if he'd run off, he must have something they were looking for. Turns out all he was protecting was the recipe for the best ice cream in the world. To hear him tell it, he was just about ready to retire anyway."

They walked in silence for a few moments.

"Gringotts has a branch here?" Snape asked with a note of surprise as he spotted another familiar sign.

"Of course they do. Only two goblins assigned here, and it must be shite-duty as most of them work only a few weeks, and then you never see them again, but you can access your account from here if you need to. The goblins can also arrange for emergency transportation – for a fee, of course."

"Illegal Portkeys?" Snape asked with interest.

Martin shrugged. "Goblins have their own magic; sometimes it's better not to know too much."

Snape nodded.

"But here's the place you're interested in," Martin said as they came to the last shop on the street. It was much larger than the others, the front windows crammed with bottles, jars, and boxes in a myriad of sizes, shapes, and colours.

"This is Hecate's. If you can't find what you're looking for here, it doesn't exist."

Martin pulled the door open, and they walked in.

A man was bent over, apparently scooping something out from the bottom of a wooden barrel. His head and shoulders were actually inside the barrel, and his round, fleshy bottom was pointed up into the air. The man mumbled something, but whatever he said was lost in the depths of the barrel.

A moment later, he straightened. As his head emerged from the barrel, he shook it, and a cloud of fine, white powder flew up around him.

"I see you're still talking out of your arse, Philip," Martin said as he waved his hand, fanning away the chalk-like dust.

"Bugger off," the man answered as he brushed at his clothing, dislodging more of the powder.

"Oh, and as quick as ever!"

"Not as quick as you, if Melinda Tomai is to be believed."

"You know she lies – didn't she tell you that you were a better lover than I?"

Martin started to laugh, and a moment later, the rotund little man joined in.

It was obvious that the two of them were friends of long standing.

"Philip, I'd like you to meet Severus Snape. He's the one I told you about; he's looking for some of your more esoteric items."

"Severus, this is Philip Murcuris, the finest purveyor of potions on all of Cyprus."

Philip sent a mocking glare Martin's way. "As usual, I'm completely under-whelmed by your praise as I'm the only purveyor of potions on Cyprus." He then turned to Snape. "I'm pleased to meet you, Mr. Snape."

"Severus, please," Snape said as he held out a hand.

Philip wiped his hand down the side of his robes before he took Snape's. "Philip. And while I'm pleased to meet you, I certainly hope you're not planning to set up shop on the island. There really isn't enough business to support two of us."

"The poor sod came to Cyprus to get married," Martin said before Snape could speak.

"You and your bride will be returning to England?" Philip asked in a hopeful tone.

"Tomorrow, actually," Snape replied.

Philip smiled. "How can I help you, Severus?"

Again, Martin spoke before Snape could. "I'm going to leave you two and tend to a few errands of my own. It stinks in here."

Philip took a deep sniff. "I don't smell anything." He turned to Snape. "Do you smell anything?"

Snape's nostrils flared a bit. "Nothing out of the ordinary."

Martin shook his head. "Potioneers," he muttered. Then louder he said, "I'll be back in an hour or so. Care to join us for lunch Philip? Arethusa has lamb stew today."

"I suppose I can close up for a little while; it's not too busy today."

Snape spent the next hour sniffing, testing, and occasionally tasting various ingredients. Philip was a shrewd business man. He knew the value of the ingredients and that they were difficult to obtain. He named a price that was just above what Snape had expected to pay. Snape also knew the value of the ingredients and was every bit as shrewd as Philip. He knew that there were few buyers for such rare ingredients and that the longer they sat unsold, the less they were worth. Snape made a counter-offer that was just below his target price. After a few volleys back and forth, they finally agreed on a price that was right in the middle. They shook hands to seal the bargain, each of them believing he had got the best end of the deal.

They'd just finished making arrangements for the items to be delivered to Spinner's End when Martin returned.

Philip flipped the sign on the door to "Closed", and the three of them walked down the street toward the door that led back to Arethusa's taverna and the lamb stew that awaited them there.

It was nearly three o'clock when Snape and Martin returned to Martin's house. Stefanos was already there; he was leaning against the rear fender of his taxi, smoking while he waited.

"I'll see you at the Marriage Office," Martin said as Snape climbed out of the car.

"The ceremony is at seven o'clock," Snape said, "but you might want to arrive a few minutes early to meet Hermione. I won't be able to introduce you, however, as I'm strictly forbidden to see her beforehand."

Martin laughed. "Don't worry, Severus. I'll introduce myself to your unsuspecting bride."

"Thank you again, Martin," Snape said sincerely.

Martin waved a hand airily. "It's nothing, old friend. I'll see you tonight."

Snape nodded and then strode over to Stefanos.

"Have you been waiting long?" Snape asked.

"Oh, no, sir, no sir," Stefanos said. He dropped his cigarette and crushed it under his shoe as he opened the door for Snape.

Once Snape was settled in the back seat, Stefanos hurried around the taxi and climbed behind the wheel.

"Did you enjoy your lunch, sir?" Stefanos asked as he started the taxi and shifted into gear.

"Yes, I did, thank you. And you?"

"Oh, yes, sir. I have family here in Coral Bay, so this was a good chance to visit. My cousin Melina gave me some baklava. He held up a large brown bag. "Would you like a piece?"

"No, thank you. I enjoyed a rather filling lamb stew for lunch." He patted his stomach.

"You went to Arethusa's place?" Stefanos asked.

Snape studied Stefanos's eyes in the mirror. He hadn't detected any hint of magical emanations from the young man.

"You know Arethusa?" Snape asked carefully. His fingers brushed against the sleeve of his jacket and then over the side of his neck.

"Everyone knows her," Stefanos said. "Her lamb stew is the best on the island. Her baklava is good, but my cousin makes the best baklava on Cyprus."

"I'm afraid I had no room for baklava," Snape said. His restless hand settled back on his lap.

"That's too bad. But maybe next time, yes?"

"I'll make sure of it."

A few minutes later, they were back in Coral Bay. Stefanos pulled up outside his cousin's store, and Snape hurried inside. He was back out in just a few minutes, a small package in his hands. He tucked it into his pocket as he got back into the taxi.

"I'm ready to go back to the hotel now," Snape said.

"Yes, sir," Stefanos said.

They pulled up in front of the hotel, and Snape was about to open the door and climb out when a thought occurred to him.

"Stefanos, I need another small favour."

"Yes, sir?"

"I need to get a note to my ... to Miss Granger, but she's a bit superstitious and doesn't want me to see her before the wedding. I could try to slip it under her door, but if she hasn't returned to her room yet, I may run into her in the hall or the lift."

"Women – sometimes they are crazy, yes?" Stefanos said with a smile. "You stay here, sir. I'll give the note to my cousin and ask him to deliver it – he's the desk clerk, you know."

"Are you related to everyone on Cyprus?" Snape asked with an arched brow as held out the sealed envelope.

Stefanos shrugged. "It's a small island."

He took the envelope and jumped out of the taxi.

Five minutes later, he was back. He leaned into the open window of the back seat where Snape sat.

"Your lady has just returned to her room, sir. Christos gave her the note you left and told her I would be here to pick her up at six-thirty. She said she would be ready. Christos also said that the things you bought in Coral Bay have been delivered to your room."

"Then I'd best go in and get ready myself," Snape said. "Please be back here at six o'clock to pick me up."

"Oh, yes, sir, I'll be here." He opened the back door of the taxi. Snape got out and walked into the hotel.

Although he'd been told that Hermione was already in her room, Snape made a point of hurrying out of the lift and past her door to enter his own room.

He shaved carefully and then brushed his teeth. The lamb stew had been delicious, but Arethusa had a heavy hand with the garlic. He showered and shampooed his hair twice to make sure it was as clean and oil-free as he could get it. After drying himself off, he combed his hair and tied it back with a narrow band. He'd tried wearing his hair shorter, but it was so fine, straight, and limp that tying it back was the only way to keep it presentable.

He pulled on clean pants and socks and then unzipped the plastic bag that held the new suit he'd bought. He had intended to wear the only Muggle suit he owned, an old-fashioned black wool thing that he'd had for more than a decade, but when Hermione had insisted on a new dress, he'd realised how shabby the old suit was.

The tailor in Coral Bay had done a fine job – on very short notice. The navy blue suit fit well, and the pale blue shirt was an interesting contrast. Snape couldn't remember ever owning a shirt this colour. He tied his shoes and then slipped the blue and green striped silk tie around his collar. He knotted it carefully, making sure his collar covered the scar on his neck, and then stepped back to see the overall look in the mirror on the bathroom door.

Well, he'd never win any beauty contests, he acknowledged to himself ruefully, but at least Hermione wouldn't be embarrassed to be seen with him.

Snape slid his watch on his wrist, noting that it was five-thirty. Stefanos would be here to pick him up in half an hour. And in just a little over ninety minutes, he would be a married man.

He finished packing his suitcase, making sure he got his shaving kit and toiletries from the bathroom. He paced the room a bit, opening drawers to make sure he hadn't left anything behind. He looked at his watch again. Five-forty-five. He dug his toothbrush out of his bag and brushed his teeth again. He was sure he could still taste the garlic from the lamb stew he'd eaten more than three hours earlier.

He paced some more and wondered if Hermione was as nervous as he was.

At two minutes before six, he looked around the room one last time. He patted his pockets to make sure he had his wallet, a handkerchief, and the small package he'd picked up that afternoon. He tucked the Special Licence into the inside pocket of his suit jacket, slid his wand into the special pocket he'd transfigured into the inside of his sleeve, and left the room for the last time.

Author's Note: This story was written for the Potter Place's Variety Challenge. This is the prompt I chose: Something Old – Revisit a once popular challenge. I chose to revisit the Marriage Law Challenge, but I've placed the story in a post-DH timeline.