Several months after his mysterious survival, tables and tabloids are turning against Severus Snape. He faces a conspiracy, legal troubles and has no reason to be in a good mood. And then there's a capricious woman to consider …

This is the sequel to my first story 'Educating Elena'. It's still in progress, and although the story is more or less finished in my mind I'm taking my time about it because to me writing is far more about character development than action and adventure which is why I like to take a careful approach. Right now, in October 2017, I'm re-reading all this in order to organize my lose ends and find inconsistencies. In case of substantial changes, I'll let you know in a summary so you don't have to read it all again.

Reviews are always sweet, regardless of the content, and I'm grateful for any kind of comments. So please do not hesitate to tell me what you think, and I'll be grateful to native speakers who point out my mistakes as English is not my first – though favourite – language.

The artwork for both my stories was done by yifrodit and I hope you love it as much as I do.

Hope you'll enjoy reading!

Severus goes Shopping

"Are you sure this one's right for me?"

With a look of suspicion, Severus Snape inspected the wand in his hands. It was an eyesore, looking more like a short tree branch than a wand, its wood scarred and knobbly.

"It doesn't matter what I'm thinking", Garrick Ollivander replied reasonably. He was leaning against the counter in his shop where at least two dozen open boxes were piled up, a testimony to almost an hour of intense search. "The wand chooses the wizard, as you very well know. – And this one seems to have chosen you."

Snape issued an unconvinced snarl. Sure enough, the wand had responded to him. However, he didn't like the way its rough surface felt in his hand. On top of that … "It's bloody ugly."

Ollivander's eyebrows went up. "One for aesthetics, are you?"

Snape shot him a dirty look. He was quite sure he knew what the old man was thinking – something along the lines of 'ugly wizard, ugly wand – what's the problem?' – but Ollivander hastened to make a friendly face.

"I assure you, Professor Snape, this is a very old and powerful wand. It has rested in my family's stores for centuries, always waiting for the right wizard to find it, always disappointed. It may not be pretty … but then it was made in a time that was not influenced by superficiality so much. I daresay it will take you a while to get used to it, but you won't regret the choice. In the end, you will find it to be grateful for having been reawakened to life."

Reawakened – just like himself, when he should really have been dead, bitten by a snake that was really a Horcrux and bled out in the Shrieking Shack. Severus saw the parallel that Ollivander was playing at and he shook the wand again dispiritedly. It obliged him by ejecting a shower of dancing stars. However, he imagined he felt a marked resistance, a recalcitrance, as if the wand, rather than being eager to serve at last, resented having been ripped from its century-old sleep in a box. Snape sighed, over the loss of his old wand – which had been snapped in half a few weeks ago by a wizard who'd been out to kill him (not the first, surely, and maybe not the last) – and over the prospect of having to get used to a new one, particularly one which he felt he had to prove his worth to.

"It's not so unlike your old wand", Ollivander eagerly went into sales talk, "that one was fir, too, if I remember correctly?"

Snape considered the old man. Did he really remember him at age eleven, coming here with his mother shortly before the start of his first year at Hogwarts? But then, that was exactly what everybody said about Garrick Ollivander – that he neither ever forgot a wand nor the wizard or witch he'd sold it to.

"Fir with dragon heartstring", Ollivander went on as if to prove his point, "twelve-and-a-half inches, unyielding."

Snape was impressed, but did his best to hide it. "It was very different from this one", he remarked instead. "Elegant, smooth … until someone destroyed it." These last words he spat.

"Which means that the time has come for you to get used to a new wand", said Ollivander, a soothing note in his voice. "Believe me, Professor, wands are more connected to individual fate than you might believe. You lost your old one, and I sympathize with how sorely you must miss it. The wand, after all, is our third arm, isn't it? But you should get used to the thought that a new phase might be starting in your life. And a new wand is certainly the most potent symbol you can get for that."

Severus twitched, for various reasons, none of which he would have gone into. "The only thing this has in common with my old wand is the fir wood", he went on instead, sounding petulant.

"Obvious choice for Capricorn", Ollivander replied in a business-like manner. "You are a Capricorn, aren't you? Born on January … eighth or ninth?"

"Ninth", Snape said quickly, again marvelling at the man's memory.

"So there is a constant. The switch from dragon heartstring to phoenix feather may be unusual, but not unheard-of, especially for an owner that has undergone … great and life-changing upheaval. Also, the altered rigidity may suggest a similar change, an increasing open-mindedness, a softening brought on by true wisdom …"

This was getting too close to the core – and sounded too much like mollycoddling, as well – so Severus grunted dismissively and changed the subject. He might have gone from an unyielding to a pliable wand, but he was as disinclined as ever to talk about his private live. "I've been using this wand for the past two weeks", he said and got out Elena's companion that he had been carrying around with him ever since that night in the lighthouse which they had not expected to survive, but had somehow managed to get out of. "Surprisingly, it works quite nicely for me. Probably because of the dragon heartstring." He played around with it. "Nice to the touch, as well."

Ollivander merely gave that wand a quick survey. "Yew with dragon heartstring, nine-and-a-half inches, swishy", he rattled off, "sold a few months ago to a young woman who had only just learnt that she was a witch …"

"By your logic", Snape broke in, again forestalling the conversation to go into too private a direction, "it shouldn't work for me as well as it does."

"Fir and yew are as compatible as Capricorn and Taurus are", Ollivander explained with a nonchalant shrug, "earth signs, both of them. – Wand magic is complicated, Professor, and it has strong emotional ties. This makes it so difficult to explain why one wand works well for a wizard while the other one doesn't. My father, you see, he used to believe that a little eros was in play here, too. 'For a wizard, to touch the wand that is made for him is like touching the body of the woman he desires …'" Ollivander chuckled. "He wouldn't tell this to his customers, though. Not then, anyway, people were far too prudish in those times … yet, what my father said reflects very well the almost intimate nature of a wizard's relationship with his wand."

Quite in spite of himself, Snape said nothing, merely tried hard to keep himself from staring at the wandmaker. Ollivander's words had conjured up images in his mind. A slim waist above wide hips, shaped as perfectly as a violin, over which his own thin fingers ran, savouring the texture of smooth skin, every pore, every tiny goose bump … moon-lit skin and set against it the dark dip of navel, circling, like a belly-dancer's … He felt the heat rise in his face and he turned away abruptly, played around with the new wand that hadn't started to feel any better in his hand.

"Alright then", he breathed, "I'll take this one. If you insist that it is right for me …"

"It's not me who's insisting", Ollivander said with a bright smile, "it's the wand."

Snape waved this information away and asked for the price. Ollivander named it which made Snape blow up his cheeks in exasperation. The wand might be old and ugly, but there was certainly nothing old-fashioned about the cost. With a sigh, he got out a leather pouch from his robes pocket and put a pile of coins on the counter. The pouch felt considerably lighter when he put it back into the folds of his robes. "This better be good", he snarled after he had pocketed the new wand.

"Be sure to exercise it", Garrick Ollivander reminded him, "an old wand may sometimes need a little prodding. However, a wizard of your status … I bet you like a challenge, Professor Snape?"

Severus hated to admit that anyone could ever manipulate him. Yet, every time reference was made to his powers as a wizard he felt something inside him go soft, vain and foolish as that might be. "I will do my best", he said stiffly.

"And Ms Horwath will certainly be glad to have her wand back", Ollivander said as if it was a matter of course and with only a very fine smile. "That is her name, isn't it? Your student's? You sent her here to get her first wand."

"Yes, yes", Snape murmured impatiently, "where else?"

"And she is a Taurus, isn't she? Seventh May?"

"I believe so", was the curt response. "You do have quite a memory."

"Only with what's connected to wands", Ollivander replied modestly. "In other realms, it has become quite useless. Age, you know … - there is a thing I remember, however …" The old man looked up at Snape thoughtfully. "I've read it in the Prophet. – Haven't you a hearing coming up shortly?"

Snape's eyebrows drew together. "Yes …"

Garrick Ollivander shook his head sympathetically. "What a bother that must be. You know, there's some things going on in the magical world right now which I don't like at all …"

"What d'you mean?" The question from the younger man came like a whip and he eyed the wandmaker calculatingly.

"There is an esprit de temps coming which is so eager to create a new world that it already disregards the recent past."

"That is … spoken very generally", Severus remarked.

"Of course", another wan smile, "it has not yet made itself felt very much. Only between the lines. The Prophet's, Witch Weekly's, and life's. There, however, you can see it clearly."

Snape knew what Ollivander meant, but he had no wish to enter into a conversation on abstract concepts. "That hearing is not between the lines", he said tersely. "It is very concrete, and unnecessary, if I can say that without coming over too villainous."

The latter was meant to be ironic, but the wandmaker scoffed in a friendly manner. "Since when have you ever cared about that, Professor?" Then he became serious. "It is an unusual thing – arranging a hearing at the Wizengamot which will be open to the press and to a limited extent to the public, as well. Makes it sound more like a trial."

'Exactly', Snape thought darkly, 'and that's precisely the effect that they're going for.' But again, he didn't comment.

"Quite unheard of", Ollivander continued his musings, "why do you think they're doing it in that manner?"

Severus had a number of answers to that. Common curiosity, the wish to drag him out into the open and parade him in front of the wizarding world, to ask all the questions they had always wanted to ask and to rake up muck. "The inquiry concerns a recent mishap I've run into", he explained instead and as impassively as he managed.

Ollivander eyed him and frowned. "I hope for you that this is all it is going to be about."

The two men exchanged a glance. It was enough for both of them to understand that the other thought exactly the same.

For days now, the impending hearing had been mentioned regularly in the wizarding world's dailies, the anticipated event at which Severus Snape would give – would have to give – testimony on his dealings with one Pavel Leshnikov, now presumed dead. How Leshnikov had hired two thugs to kill Snape. How he had ingratiated himself with and finally kidnapped Elena Horwath – who had stumbled into the whole mess like the literal fool – all with the purpose of getting Severus out of his safety zone and face the man who had set his teeth on edge for weeks and months by writing threatening letters in blood. There had been a lot of newspaper reports on Leshnikov recently, and certainly the magical world wanted to know more about him, learn about his deeds, his powers and how he had managed to challenge and pull one over Severus Snape of all people. Even more than that, they wanted to see the wizard who had inspired such brutality and who, incidentally, was also the man who had killed Albus Dumbledore and been the right hand of Lord Voldemort … It didn't need a lot of imagination to guess in what direction the general mood was going. Somehow, this Severus Snape always seemed to get involved into some dodgy mess or other, so maybe he deserved it? Maybe he even caused it? Everybody knew what a grump the man was. A cold and evil bastard, waiting out his time to see which way the wind was blowing and then, at the last moment, tagging himself onto 'The Good' embodied in the mystical figure of Dumbledore. The tale of Snape, the Silent Hero, who'd saved the day had fascinated the masses for a while. The rumours of an unrequited love might even have moved some of them. However, Albus Dumbledore was gone, Lily Potter was gone and the Golden Trio was looking to build a life of their own. And there was Snape, sour and ugly as ever. An eyesore – very much like his new wand – and not really fit material for legends. So why not embarrass him a bit? And who knew? A good enough reason might come up to get him into serious trouble, to lock him away even …

Severus didn't think that such thoughts were paranoid. He knew very well that he lacked any endearing characteristics and that bravery did nothing to change that. In almost forty years of being disliked and shied away from, he had made himself get used to it, persuaded himself that he didn't want anyone's respect and recognition. Thus, he had built a persona that pushed people away before they could get close enough to withdraw in disgust or hurt. In other words, in trying to protect himself, he had only enhanced the original problem of the blunt and socially inept boy he had once been. Locking him away certainly wouldn't mean a loss to society.

In past years – past decades, to be precise – he had sometimes tried to imagine himself imprisoned. Azkaban had, after all, been a valid possibility, especially after the first wizarding war. He had been afraid of it, of course, but forced himself to think it through and finally decided that he would probably have been able to manage. Withdraw into his mind, most of the time, so as not to let the Dementors affect him too much, retreating into the office in his brain, to imaginary books and cauldrons, and Lily would have been there, as well, to keep him company. Contrary to what most people thought of him, he did have imagination and lived more in his inner world than in that surrounding him. He would not have been able to survive without this ability, neither physically nor emotionally.

These days, of course, imagination was working overtime. Or rather, it was a remembering and re-imagining. He tried to keep it at bay and himself busy, with work, with errands, with knowledge he crammed into his head. However, 'the incident' – as he privately termed it – would have its pound of flesh. Mostly at night and very frequently in the mornings, shortly after waking up. What went on in his mind then had nothing to do with Lily, but it made him feel – now more than ever – that he didn't want to be locked away.

Of course, imprisonment was unlikely; at this point, anyway. Also, the hearing needn't develop into anything larger or graver. Maybe it was as Remus Lupin had said, 'only an opportunity for the wizarding world to indulge their curiosity'. The abominable werewolf had also made it clear that he considered Snape's reserve to be the cause for such curiosity. "If you had helped sooner in finding the Death Eaters still at large, the attitude towards you would be entirely different now." Another I-told-you-so guy. Great.

Yet, he was probably right, as Severus reluctantly admitted, though only to himself. He hadn't improved his situation by lying low after his unexpected survival from Nagini's bite. And from a man like him – who'd played spy for years and juggled formidable wizards on a daily basis – the excuse of 'having been confused and unable to act rationally' would certainly sound a little lame. Yet, Severus knew that he could never have acted in any other way. Joining the wizarding world in its state of celebration after the victory would have been horror to him. Yes, he should have shown himself at the Ministry for a little talk. But even if he had, there was no doubt that he would have gone back 'into his hole' immediately afterwards. This was how he was made, what he could and would not change as it was far too late for that. He would always have gone into hiding at Spinner's End, consuming unnecessary amounts of Fire Whiskey to make himself tired and ready to sleep in the evenings, and one day opening the door to a Muggle girl, unlikely as it seemed.

So many things had changed, and at the same time nothing at all. He looked down at his hands and found that he was still playing with the yew wand. Which reminded him of Olivander who was still standing there, watching Severus with a curious expression on his face.

"Lost in thought?" the wandmaker said kindly.

Snape twitched. "I should leave. – I'll let you know about the wand and will not hesitate to bring it back if it doesn't turn out well. Which I strongly suspect. In that case, I'll expect a full refund."

"Of course, Professor", Ollivander replied with a benign smile. "I'm sure, however, that your new wand will find in you the strong hand that it yearns for."

A sugar-coated way of saying that he should buck up and be a wizard about it, as Snape understood very well. He gave the wandmaker a haughty look and turned towards the shop door.

Ollivander cleared his throat. "Best of luck to you, Professor", he said. "And might I just mention … in my eyes, what you did was heroic. The way you put your life on the line for years … not a lot of men have this kind of courage."

Severus scowled – it was his usual way of reacting to praise which he distrusted, especially when it was paid to his person. However, he couldn't quite shake a certain warm feeling towards the man.

He nodded curtly, murmured "Good day to you then" – which wasn't meant as awkwardly as it came out – and left the shop.