The shopkeeper had indeed come prepared. Past customers who left the shop richly satisfied had long speculated about him — most eventually settled on the explanation that he was a wizard with a gift for Divination.

It was otherwise hard to explain how he could so precisely meet the needs of each different customer.

This visit was no different. The shopkeeper calmly reached into the drawer behind the counter and produced a tray.

On the red-velvet tray sat two items.

A pure-gold portable hip flask. And a miniature coffin no larger than a palm.

Walter stared at both items for a long moment, unreadable.

Then he burst out laughing.

A vampire's laugh carries something unsettling to it, and the sound echoed through the shop.

When he finally finished, he picked up the hip flask first, opened it, and gave it a sniff. The blood smell was just right. The blood was fresh.

Then came the miniature coffin. A Shrinking Charm had been applied to it, and even reduced to a fraction of its original size, the carved details remained exquisitely fine.

Walter had indeed been wanting a more luxurious coffin, it was a vampire's bed, a symbol of their status, their place of eternal rest.

This coffin moved him even more than the blood had.

He truly believed the rumors that circulated in the alley. He paid without hesitation.

Walter's method of payment was gold — not Galleons, but pure, melted-down gold.

The shopkeeper, with great professionalism, checked the purity of the gold. He confirmed the transaction complete, then packaged Walter's purchases with practiced ease.

After that pleasant exchange, Walter felt himself relax. He began to think the hair-raising atmosphere he had felt earlier was simply his own nerves at being somewhere unfamiliar.

Watching the shopkeeper's long, nimble fingers wrap the items with deft movements, Walter asked lazily about something that had been nagging at him: "Is that weighing scale broken?"

The fox mask's smile paused. At last, the shopkeeper gave a small nod.

Walter felt as though he had caught the shopkeeper in a minor slip. He smiled smugly. "A broken item is unavoidable, I suppose. You could always sell it as decorative art."

The vampire vanished into the night.

After the customer had gone, Lucas walked over to the weighing scale, which had gone still. He stepped onto it steadily.

The needle swung back and forth, oscillating repeatedly between the numbers 40 and 12.

It was not broken, of course. It simply did not measure weight. It measured age.

The shopkeeper reached out and ran a finger along the needle. It came to rest, finally, on 12.

He raised his silver walking cane, and the wand concealed within it sealed the shop door shut.

Business for the day was concluded.

Walter let the shop disappear into the darkness behind him without a backward glance.

He had made a profitable visit. He had generously paid an additional deposit, commissioning a batch of mechanical traps designed to target wizards.

He had been particular about the requirements: the traps must cause no harm to vampires, and they must not kill wizards outright.

The shopkeeper had made a point of telling him that the vast majority of customers were not afforded the privilege of such bespoke commissions, only a truly generous customer would ever be permitted to return.

The shopkeeper gave him a delivery date.

Walter was very pleased with the special treatment.

.

On the eve of Christmas, Lucas wrote home again.

This time, no pretense was needed.

Lucas only had to explain that he had at last located the school records from his mother's year, and that one of the professors turned out to be a maternal relative who had invited him to stay for a while.

Before that invitation began, he would be at school studying Potions with a professor.

Lucas enclosed more Muggle currency with the letter.

He was at school, but purchasing Potions ingredients required drawing on the Gringotts account, and converting currency was considerably easier that way, he only needed to mention the amount in a letter to his agent and pay the appropriate sum.

Lucas had also exchanged some cash for personal use. If there was anything he needed to buy in the Muggle world during the time he would be living with Snape over the summer holiday, he could pay for it directly.

Mr. Graham's reply was, unsurprisingly, brief. For a child who had been away for over a year, there was no particular wish expressed to bring him home.

Perhaps because Lucas had mentioned his mother, Mr. Graham added a few lines, hoping Lucas would get along well with his relatives.

Enclosed with the letter was a photograph of Lucas's mother.

The witch in the photograph was dressed entirely in Muggle clothes, smiling brightly at the camera.

Wizards have a particular quality about them when being photographed. Because photographs in the wizarding world move, they are not accustomed to holding still and posing quietly the way Muggles do.

This photograph had some blurring around the hands, but what came through above all else was a vitality that seemed to burst right off the image.

Lucas stared at it for a while. The witch looked to be in her mid-twenties. She was happy, entirely unaware that her end was near.

Lucas kept the photograph.

He had not submitted a request to stay at school over Christmas this year. This time, he had somewhere to go.

After collecting the stay-over applications, Snape had taken a particular look through them. Lucas's application was not among them.

When Lucas came to help, Snape brought it up.

"You're not staying at school for Christmas this year?" A note of suspicion in his voice.

Lucas stood on the other side of the desk, hands clasped behind his back, and answered with perfect ease: "Walter invited me to come by his apartment. On Christmas Eve, we'll go and explore the manor together."

When Lucas finished speaking, the dungeon fell into a strange silence.

Snape's disapproving gaze settled on Lucas.

He did not speak immediately, letting the look do the work.

The young wizard gazed back without a care in the world, playing dumb on purpose.

"He wants you to live together and cultivate a bond between relatives?" Snape said. "Are you certain he isn't cultivating a bond with his ingredients?"

Lucas looked at the professor with genuine surprise. "He's only showing me around the place. Aren't I spending the Christmas holiday studying Potions with you?"

Snape leaned back in his chair and let out a cold laugh. He was almost ready to applaud Lucas's little scheme.

"I don't recall having any such Christmas plans." A flat refusal.

"You haven't been back to your Muggle family in quite some time. You've been saving up money lately as well — a good opportunity to go back and see your dear father. As for your meeting with the vampire, as Head of House I won't interfere with a student's activities outside of term. If you fail to show up for class when the holiday ends, however..."

Snape paused deliberately, then delivered the rest with hollow sympathy: "I will mourn for you."

Oh.

Lucas stood obediently across from the professor, looking for all the world like a young vine just beginning to put out its first leaves.

From the start of term to now, he had not only grown taller but had filled out a little, he no longer looked like a bare stick planted upright in the ground.

Lucas blinked. "When I go to explore the manor, would you be willing to come along? The ritual isn't complete yet, but moments like this usually call for a mentor to be present, don't they?"

He had taken in every note of Snape's sarcasm, accepted it wholesale, and offered nothing in direct response.

➤ Next: Holiday Life

Chapter 223 - Holiday Life

"Have you noticed that ever since Walter left the school, nothing dangerous has happened?" Lucas spoke from the heart. "I don't trust that vampire either."

Lucas held Snape's gaze with particular sincerity, a move that had already proven very effective. "I only trust you."

Snape's expression went strange. Needling continued anyway. "So even you know it's dangerous to be around a vampire."

"Don't tell me this is about upholding justice or some such thing." Snape knew very well how capable Lucas was of talking complete nonsense.

But this time Lucas was entirely candid. "That manor — ever since it was sealed, the Ministry of Magic sent people in several times and none of them could open it. That family was renowned for collecting books. Very, very many books."

"That means more danger. You don't have the ability to protect that kind of asset." The words had barely left Snape's mouth before he met Lucas's sly gaze.

"Therefore, I need you to accompany and supervise me." Lucas had steered the topic right back where it started.

If any other student had been standing here right now, Snape would have already arranged a full package of detention and community service for them.

But this child trusted him. Just as the headmaster had said, Snape could not resist that kind of trust.

.

The moment the appointed time arrived, the apartment doorbell rang.

The vampire, draped in a silk dressing gown, strolled to the door. Opening it, two wizards stood outside, one tall, one small.

Snape hadn't even bothered to change into Muggle clothes.

The Christmas holiday had only just begun when Snape reluctantly brought Lucas back to Spinner's End.

Not that Snape was any less displeased that Lucas had never asked in advance and had simply taken moving into the house as a given.

But that displeasure turned into bewilderment fairly quickly, once Snape watched Lucas pull item after item out of a carry-on trunk.

"I prepared some everyday supplies in advance. This way we won't have to keep going out in the cold." Lucas smiled shyly.

Without so much as a change in expression, Lucas drew several bundles of firewood, two large pumpkins, and a pine tree out of the trunk.

Thanks to Rubeus Hagrid's generosity. Hogwarts truly was a place of abundant resources.

If all of that could still be considered normal, the folding bookcase, the brass plumbing pipes, the wooden bed frame, and soft pillows that followed were where things started getting outrageous.

"Are you here on holiday?" Snape looked at the Christmas tree with distaste.

The tree itself was fairly well-shaped. But festive atmosphere had never once entered this house.

To say nothing of the fact that freshly cut trees harboured all manner of insects, and the pine needles would constantly fall.

Lucas drew a wand and used the Levitation Charm to adjust the tree's position, eventually settling on a spot beside the fireplace.

"I did some preparation beforehand. Pomona Sprout has pesticide for keeping insects at bay, and a recipe that prevents pine needles from falling."

Levitating a tree was easy enough. Getting the positioning exactly right was always a little off.

Lucas asked Snape with some uncertainty: "Could you check — is it a bit crooked?"

Just as Snape looked ready to offer further commentary on the tree, Lucas kept going. "After Christmas, it can be kept for firewood. I promise it won't make a mess here."

The house wasn't particularly clean to begin with, anyway.

Snape stared at the pine tree for a moment, then tolerated this small invasion. "A little further left, and further from the fireplace — I have no intention of burning my house down."

Thanks to the professor's input, the Christmas tree was arranged without further trouble.

With a large, conspicuous Christmas tree already standing in the house, the folding bookcase Lucas quietly slipped into the study afterward was practically negligible by comparison.

The fire at Spinner's End burned with a warmth it had never known.

Lucas consulted a household magic book and cast several charms on the rooms.

Then, hoisting the brass plumbing pipes over one shoulder, Lucas clattered up the stairs. The sound of water running through the pipes followed, accompanied by a teeth-grating shriek of metal fittings being joined together.

Snape turned a page of his book with satisfaction. Good, this holiday, he would not have to perform Transfiguration on the bathroom.

Every last petty domestic matter was off his hands.

When the first snow fell, the comfortably settled Potions professor glanced at the circled date on the calendar.

He found, with considerable displeasure, that he had to go visit a damned vampire.

Now the front door stood open, and Walter's robe hung open as well.

Wind and snow swept in hard. The vampire, impervious to the cold, stood there surveying the two visitors with considerable poise.

"Professor Walter, you're blocking the doorway, we can't get in." Lucas quietly reminded Walter, who was still striking a pose.

Walter's smile stiffened. The two wizards were let through.

Once inside, Snape cast a critical eye around the apartment.

There was little evidence that anyone actually lived there. The furnishings used expensive materials, but the style was entirely Muggle.

"Severus, I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd be coming along. But this is just as well. Having an adult looking after Lucas is genuinely reassuring."

Walter led the two wizards further into the sitting room and gave a brief rundown of the apartment's layout.

The place made use of quite a few electrical appliances. Walter was clearly a vampire, and yet all of them were functioning normally.

Lucas took a second look at the refrigerator running in the kitchen.

Walter, meanwhile, was holding forth to Snape at length about the apartment's interior design.

When they finished touring and settled back onto the sofa in the ground-floor sitting room, Walter made a pointed remark. "I've heard that some wizards have no home of their own. They carry a bag and go looking for a suitable house wherever they can find one."

"When they have no work to keep them occupied, they slip into Muggle homes. Some of them lock the Muggles in the basement, pass in a little water and food every few days, and leave the place picked clean."

"Other wizards are kinder. They plant the idea of a holiday trip in the Muggles' heads. These Muggles tend to leave without taking a thing, and they won't be back for several months."

"Once the holiday is over, a handful of spells puts the house back the way it was."

The sort of thing Walter described had indeed occurred. But as the vampire spoke, those eyes kept drifting to Snape, as though hinting to Lucas that Snape was exactly the kind of wizard who squatted uninvited in other people's homes.

Lucas looked up with an expression of complete innocence. "Did this happen back in the eighteenth century?"

Walter's face froze. A small, self-smoothing laugh followed. "Wizards are of course far more civilised now. The Ministry of Magic keeps watch over everything... though as I see it, there is nothing new under the sun."

Lucas took everything at face value. "Your place looks very clean," Lucas said, with considerable pride. "But Professor Snape's house has a great many books. A great many magic books."

Walter watched the second-year's thoughts gallop off in all directions with indulgent amusement, playing along without missing a beat. "Yes, yes, you like reading, do you? Our manor has a great many books as well."

Walter had no idea that Lucas was living in Snape's home.

➤ Next: Encountering Children