kittyperry - Comet Chaser

Avarice

"Poverty wants much; but avarice, everything."

~ Publilius Syrus (Roman author, 1st century B.C.)

Severus was tired of the constant reminders of his previous mistakes. As he stormed out of the room and made his way out of the building with celerity, Potter hot on his heels, he fumed inwardly. That Granger had had the audacity to bring up Lily, his beloved Lily, was the last straw. Did the woman not understand childhood friendship? Of course he had loved her, but when she had proved herself so false a friend as to refuse to forgive a teenage insult, he had over the years come to realise her shallowness and pettiness. If she could love Potter, superficial, golden boy Potter, then she was obviously not the right woman for him. Was she not the sister of Petunia, pedestrian, small-minded Petunia? However beautiful and angelic she may have appeared after her martyrdom, she was still of the same ilk as her sister. Blood will out, as his mother would have said. Giving those memories to Potter had been a calculated move. Severus had spent days pondering over the best way in which to show the moronic brat what he had to do and convince him to believe in Severus' message.

When Severus had survived Nagini and Voldemort but not the irritating diktat of the Wizengamot, he had realised it was because he was poor and lacked the right connections. He had no family wealth to back him up. Yes, he was strong and powerful magically, and he had fought for the greater good, but he could not line the pockets of the Wizengamot members, and so he was forced to submit to the ignominy of Granger trying to analyse him, for Merlin's sake.

Thus, Severus had begun to plan how best to amass the means for gaining respect within the most sacrosanct of brotherhoods, the only community that had welcomed him no matter his position in the political climate, the select community of qualified Potions Masters who were inducted into the Order of Lao Tzu. His position as a member of the Order of Lao Tzu had saved him from rotting in Azkaban and given him the opportunity to contact elusive Potions Masters and Mistresses, but Severus wanted more; he wanted to be a part of the inner council. The inner council of the brotherhood had power and prestige around the world; no Wizengamot ruling would apply if the Masters who were part of the inner circle of Lao Tzu disagreed.

Potions Masters of the inner sanctum had wealth and time to undertake extensive research, to develop groundbreaking new potions and techniques, but despite Severus' cynosure, what stood in his way were the dual requirements of time and money. Experimental facilities, ingredients, rare books and specialised scrolls were not easy to find, nor were they cheap. Thus, to begin his initiation into the inner sanctum, the heart of the Order of Lao Tzu, Severus needed money, lots of money.

His sojourn in Beirut had not been merely to avoid the exasperating parole evaluations; he had actually been learning ancient healing and brewing techniques from a Palestinian refugee witch, who had papyrus scrolls of mindboggling value that were only passed down via apprenticeship to those who showed absolute dedication to the art of medicinal brewing. The knowledge he had gained from Black Leila, as the crone was known, had sparked an idea in his mind, and his secret brainchild was born. Severus had begun to brew and supply a selection of products to British and European apothecaries under the name of Sensuality.

Trade in Middle-Eastern and Asian potions was uncommon in Western Wizarding circles. Thus, well-heeled, expatriate witches and wizards had been some of Severus' best early customers, for they had been delighted to find products of such quality from what they supposed was an indigenous Potions Master. That the more sophisticated and wealthy members of Wizarding society had quickly latched onto the extremely exclusive products had been an added bonus.

Currently, Severus lived in Simla. The north-west of the Himalayas provided him with the dual benefit of taking him away from Britain and the clutches of the Ministry, as well as allowing him to pursue his ongoing research into the esoteric art of Ayurveda. The more he learned, the more extensive grew his range of products. From simple shampoos and conditioners to hair-straightening and curling treatments, spot remedies, anti-wrinkle creams, hair-growth serums, anti-aging lotions, skin-whitening and tanning solutions, Severus brewed them all. There was nothing that the global Muggle beauty industry produced that he did not match and improve upon. The latest in his range were erotic potions that enhanced the sexual experiences of lovers. This branch of the company had taken off so fast that even Severus was surprised at the gaping need in the market, and his new Sexuality line of chocolates, soaps, soaks, body paints, lubricants and other products brought in the clients like bees to a honeycomb.

*******

Five months had passed since his last forced appointment with Granger, and he had done his best to avoid being found. However, when Severus moved into his newest stately estate, he failed to take the multiple measures he normally did. Perhaps he had grown complacent, perhaps in his heart of hearts, he had begun to miss the harridan and her fine eyes, but he left sufficient clues for anyone determined enough to find him. His current house had once been the abode of a former British Governor of India, who had used it as his summer retreat. The marble floors, the delicate sandalwood and rosewood furniture, the Burma teak doors, they all gave the mansion a distinctly imperial air.

Hermione had suspected that Professor Snape would not turn up for their next appointment after her completely unprofessional behaviour at their last consultation. She knew she would have to grovel and apologise for mentioning the Potters. Thus, rather than trouble the Aurors, who she knew would listen in to her conversation and said grovelling, she decided to travel directly to Beirut to find him, but in vain. With much trial and error, she perfected a complicated tracking charm and discovered him in India. There, she tracked him to the north of the country. Once in Simla, she made her way to the large house on the hill. She wondered if it was a hotel, for it was very imposing, but she had been distinctly told by a woman in a green silk sari that 'the gora sahib was at home.'

The house, however, proved to be empty. The wards were simple, not the intricate ones she had come to expect from the former Death Eater. There were no passwords either, which surprised Hermione and immediately made her pull out her wand in readiness for some diabolical trap. Cautiously, she made her way inside. The furnishings were exquisite, and Hermione could not help but appreciate the tastefulness of the décor. However, the area that held the strongest residue of his magical signature was towards the back of the house, which was decorated in a less ornate fashion. There, she found a heavily warded wing, which she assumed was his private domain.

Unable to break through the wards, she made her way to a series of adjoining rooms where she discovered large quantities of empty bottles and boxes bearing the labels of Sensuality and Sexuality. Hermione herself had only been able to afford to buy one of the expensive products, the hair serum she used on very special occasions. It made her hair a glossy curtain of silk that cascaded down her back in amazing curls. The price, though, was exorbitant. She had bought it for Harry and Ginny's engagement party, and even Ron, who never noticed anything, had commented that her hair looked nice.

What is Professor Snape doing living in a house this impressive, wondered Hermione, and what is he doing with large quantities of empty Sensuality and Sexuality containers? As the pieces began to fall into place, she realised that the mysterious brewer had to be Professor Snape. How odd, thought Hermione. He doesn't seem the type to brew beauty potions. But she did realise he was easily talented enough to make these fabulous products. However, if what she suspected was correct, then he had been involved in this secret enterprise for several years, and nary a word had he spoken of it.

Despite realising she was intrigued beyond mere professional curiosity, Hermione began to explore the house in greater detail. As she made her way to the first floor via the grand staircase, her breath caught in her throat at the sight that greeted her eyes. It was the most magnificent library, at least two stories high and filled from floor to ceiling with shelves of valuable books and scrolls, with the most perfect light flooding through the huge windows and dome-shaped glass ceiling. Hermione was known for her own hoard of books, but this collection spoke of not mere desire, but actual avarice. Who would have thought, mused Hermione, Professor Snape is a closet Dr. Faustus. But as soon as that thought entered her mind, she chastised herself for her lack of charity. This was hard-won gain, not the gift of Mephistopheles, for if Professor Snape was the man behind Sensuality, he could have bought all of these books ten times over.

Even as Hermione stood gawking at the open doors to the library, she heard the distinct sound of Apparition. Turning around, she found herself face to face with the scowling countenance of Professor Snape.

'Granger. Do your duties as a Ministry caseworker now include trespassing, breaking and entering?' demanded Snape without preamble. 'I hadn't realised.' He sneered at her from halfway up the staircase as he continued to mount the steps.

Nonplussed at how to react to this almost civil greeting given their last meeting, Hermione merely said, 'Good afternoon, Professor.' Smiling in what she hoped was a pleasant manner, she added, 'Since the mountain will not come to me, I thought I would come to the mountain.'

Severus smirked. Trust Granger to compare herself to a prophet. 'Well,' he said, 'I don't see your usual contingent of Aurors. Are you not planning to apprehend and manhandle me back to St Mungo's? Or were you thinking to take me on single-handedly?'

Hermione bristled. 'I came alone to apologise,' she said in response. 'My conduct was unprofessional and out of line. I should not have let you get to me.'

Severus chuckled darkly...then, at the look of utter confusion on Granger's face, chuckled even more. 'So you came all the way to the Himalayas to apologise? Big of you.'

'Must you be so difficult all the time?' she asked in exasperation. 'I'm sorry, alright? Can you just accept my apology and forgive me so we can move forward? I have better things to do than chase after you, you know.'

'Such as spend a romantic evening in with Weasley, with a nice meal of fish and chips and a video, perhaps?' taunted Severus.

Hermione's face glowed in anger. She knew he had noticed her disappointment at Ron's suggestion. Taking a deep breath to control her raging temper, she asked as calmly as she could, 'Does that mean I'm forgiven?'

Surprisingly, Severus did not continue with his attack. Instead, he sighed and asked, 'Lunch? I'm hungry and I have work to do. You can ask your incessant questions while we eat, and then you can get out.' Severus had never forgotten Lily's inability to forgive a misspoken word. No matter how angry Granger had made him, he had vowed to himself never to repeat Lily's behaviour. If he was asked, however shoddily, for forgiveness, he would grant it. He had learned the hard way what being unforgiven could do to a person's psyche.

A/N - 1967 words

The prompt words for this chapter were:

celerity

diktat

cynosure

kitten

wand

knightbus

password

I have used: celerity, diktat, cynosure, wand and password

Please remember to read and review! Our team gets points for every review. Thanks.