He had simply wanted to stay all along.

"I don't want to see so many people get hurt." Lucas radiated a saintly glow, mimicking the aria-like cadence Lucius had used that day: "I don't wish to see anyone lose their life in front of me. Since I have the ability to save them, we should..."

Professor Snape's physical retribution arrived, delayed, but inevitable.

He walked out of the alley in irritation. Lucas had said all of that for his benefit. Since when had the boy learned to needle his own mentor like that!

And here he had been thinking of taking Lucas out for dinner today, saving him the trouble of hovering around the kitchen!

Lucas followed in the professor's footsteps out of the alley. They were already back near Spinner's End.

Snow had begun to fall again.

Clean snowflakes drifted beneath the amber streetlights, settling on Snape's hair and clothes.

Lucas caught up and fell into step beside him.

Looking back over everything, Lucas had not actually done all that many good deeds along the way. Simply acting in response to the needs of those around him. As for saving people tonight, it was because Lucas had sensed the will to save in Snape.

And equally sensed that Snape did not want anyone to know he was doing good.

But whatever the case, no Muggle would be grieving the loss of a loved one or a child tonight.

At least not tonight.

---

A person cannot keep doing good things forever.

Sometimes good deeds and bad deeds need to balance out.

Ever since Argos became capable of assuming two identities simultaneously, Lucas no longer needed to go out on nighttime excursions personally.

Lucas lay on the bed in the Spinner's End bedroom, listening to the sounds of washing up from next door.

The water went quiet for a moment. Lucas suspected Snape was taking the opportunity to curse him under his breath.

The shampoo and shower gel in the bathroom had both run out, so Lucas had restocked them with two bottles bought from Diagon Alley.

Lucas burrowed deeper into the fluffy duvet and connected to Argos's point of view.

Tonight was the delivery date at the Knockturn Alley shop.

The vampire arrived at the designated location with the ease of someone who had been there before.

The shopkeeper had swapped to a Medusa mask this time, realistic snake heads coiling and interlacing across its surface.

"Good evening, esteemed guest." Walter had never visited Borgin and Burkes, and had no idea that this extravagant tone was reserved exclusively for fleecing customers.

Walter was very pleased with the shopkeeper's deferential attitude.

Walter still strolled a circuit around the shop. "You've finally sold that weighing scale."

The shopkeeper smiled. Tiny pebbles pattered down from the Medusa mask as it shifted with the expression.

"Indeed. I sold it to a wizard with troll ancestry — his weight far exceeds any normal range, and he was in great need of a scale incapable of giving an accurate reading." Lucas talked complete nonsense with a perfectly straight face.

At the same time, Lucas retrieved several completed alchemical items from a drawer.

"These are the mechanisms crafted especially for you," Lucas said, introducing them one by one.

Lucas lifted a transparent cube. It looked like a block of ice that would never melt, highly translucent when held up to the light.

"You can affix this near a light source on the ceiling. Any living creature illuminated by light passing through it will be transformed into an animal."

The shopkeeper pointed to a pair of Gothic earrings sitting beside the cube. The bloodstained earrings had a distinctly sinister look.

"As long as the earrings are worn in advance, the wearer will not be affected."

The shopkeeper then pointed to a scarecrow the size of a doll.

"This is a cursed scarecrow. Place it in an open area and it will disrupt Guiding Charms. Effective range of three kilometres — anyone caught inside will lose all sense of direction within the designated zone."

Lucas displayed a tattoo sticker bearing a succubus pattern. "This single-use sticker fuses with the skin on contact with water. After application, it protects the wearer from the scarecrow's curse."

The shopkeeper presented the final item: a silver perfume bottle.

Classic silhouette, rubber bulb atomiser on top.

"This one is for close-range use. Hidden inside is a black mist similar to what this shop produces. You have already experienced its effects firsthand."

"This is an exclusive patent — this shop cannot provide a counter. But pay attention to the bulb: one squeeze releases the gas, two consecutive squeezes draw it back in."

Walter's gaze moved across all three items. Each one suited Walter's purposes perfectly.

The vampire inquired about the price.

The smile beneath the Medusa mask grew wider. The shopkeeper named a figure that Walter found utterly extortionate.

Five digits. Walter was considerably less pleased now.

But the shopkeeper remained entirely at ease. "You need these items to fulfil your wishes. This shop provides only the goods and will never covet your secrets."

Walter's expression eased slightly.

The shopkeeper continued: "With preparations this thorough, whatever you intend to do is certain to succeed. These items are every step of the ladder leading you there."

Thinking of the enormous gains this visit would bring, Walter gave a reluctant nod.

Walter paid in gold on the spot, in full.

"I have bought a great many things." Walter tapped long fingernails against the counter.

"Indeed, you are a most generous guest." The shopkeeper followed the customer's lead obligingly.

"If there is to be no discount, would you consider throwing in a complimentary item?" Walter fixed his gaze on the Medusa.

Walter was quite certain the shopkeeper had made a handsome profit, because by now the snake heads on the Medusa mask were no longer knotted together. They had stretched out into pairs, each pair curling into a little heart.

At those words, every one of those snake heads turned to stare at Walter.

After a brief pause, the shopkeeper said, with visible reluctance: "To thank you for your generosity, let me have a look..."

The shopkeeper rummaged through a drawer and gathered a few drab, dusty objects, setting them on an empty tray.

Walter's eye was immediately caught by a locket set with a blue gemstone.

The setting was very antique in style and the gem itself was dull in colour, but compared to the brass pieces beside it, this freebie was the most valuable of the lot.

Walter picked up the locket and examined the gemstone carefully.

"You have a fine eye. That gem was once brilliant and lustrous, but due to the maker's carelessness it became tainted with an undesirable enchantment. Even so, it retains considerable intrinsic value, find the right craftsman to rework it and it will be worth a great deal."

Walter was of the same opinion.

Such a craftsman would not be easy to find, however. Otherwise the shopkeeper would not be giving the thing away as a freebie.

But it was a bonus all the same.

And besides, a vampire had time. More than enough of it. Keep your eyes open in the ordinary course of things, and the right craftsman would eventually turn up.

"The locket won't open?" Walter tried it. The mechanism was completely stuck.

"Correct. The failed enchantment has been sealed inside. The sealing is extremely thorough, no danger whatsoever in daily wear. However, before you find a suitable craftsman to deal with the gemstone, leaving it as it is remains the most prudent course."

The shopkeeper's explanation was thoroughly professional.

Walter attempted several vampire detection methods, found nothing to raise suspicion, and put everything away.

➤ Next: Exploring the Old Mansion

Chapter 227 - Exploring the Old Mansion

Christmas Eve arrived on schedule.

During the day, Lucas busied himself decorating around the fireplace.

He skipped the multicolored streamers and went with silver and green instead — the combination Snape could just barely tolerate — to trim the Christmas tree. The star at the top was silver as well, fitted with a small bulb inside so it could double as a night light after dark.

Once the room was finished, Lucas stepped back half a pace and admired his work with satisfaction.

Snape emerged from the study rubbing his aching neck, and his movements stilled for a moment when he caught sight of the decorated sitting room.

The smell of dinner pulled his attention away.

Lucas was still in his apron. He wiped at nonexistent smudges on his hands and called Snape over to eat.

The Potions Master had been on the verge of scolding him for decorating without permission, but remembering that Lucas had prepared all the food, Snape held his tongue.

He also noticed the neat little gift box sitting beneath the Christmas tree: a dark green box tied with a gleaming silver satin ribbon.

The box was small, but it was the only one under the tree, which made it impossible to miss.

Christmas was, after all, a time for exchanging gifts.

Snape rubbed his neck again. A slight headache was forming as he turned over the question of what to give Lucas this year.

He was planning to offer a Potions formula, once the Felix Felicis finished brewing, he could bring Lucas along to work on the next one. Something outside the textbooks, with a technique involved enough that Lucas would actually learn something useful from it.

Snape kept his expression neutral as he crossed to the dining table and pulled out his chair.

The spread was impressively generous. A turkey roasted over vegetables and glistening with drippings. A smoked ham glazed with honey and pomegranate sauce. Cascading mashed potatoes fragrant with butter. Fresh salmon. And a gingerbread house of remarkable craftsmanship, with little gingerbread figures walking circuits around the serving board.

The first thing Snape said as he sat down was: "Where did all of this come from?"

Lucas had already taken off his apron. His Christmas decorations had passed without a word of complaint, and his quiet campaign to nudge the professor toward thinking about a gift had likewise gone off without a hitch. He pulled out his chair and sat down across from Snape in excellent spirits, happy to explain.

"Everything is a token of goodwill from the school's suppliers. Did you know one of our ingredient suppliers has a farm? He said the turkeys he raises are exceptional and absolutely insisted on sending one over."

Snape's expression turned faintly complicated.

He could see a trace of Horace Slughorn in Lucas. That particular talent, working every angle, extracting something of value from anyone worth cultivating, was not especially common.

But ever since Lucas had taken over ingredient procurement, not only had the quality of the Potions materials improved, the storeroom's utilization had gone up considerably as well.

Since everyone was satisfied, Snape was perfectly content to accept these small holiday gestures.

He watched Lucas diligently serve his portions and turned the question of the Christmas gift over in his mind, wondering whether to add to it.

What would Lucas give him?

The box didn't look large. If there was a greeting card inside, whatever else fit alongside it would have to be something small.

What could it be?

Cufflinks? A gemstone? A watch?

No, he should account for the fact that Lucas had limited funds.

Snape disliked not knowing. Perhaps once the matter of the manor was dealt with, he could wait until Lucas was asleep and quietly have a look.

It was, after all, a gift meant for him.

Snape took a sip of red wine, then glanced at the decanter and at the fruit juice in Lucas's glass.

"This is Greengrass's Christmas gift. The family runs some vineyard businesses now." Lucas offered the explanation before Snape could ask.

Greengrass was really too unreliable, sending wine to a minor, of all things.

Snape filed that away mentally.

He took another sip. Fruity on the palate. Not bad.

Lucas sat beside Snape, the table was long enough, but he always drifted close, where conversation came easily.

"Happy Christmas Eve, Professor." The young wizard raised his glass of fruit juice. Because they had the manor business to deal with after dinner, he had only poured Snape a small amount of wine.

Snape clinked his glass against Lucas's.

The fire burned steadily in the hearth, and the soft crackling of wood became part of the atmosphere itself. Thanks to Lucas's housekeeping spellwork book, there was not a trace of smoke or soot anywhere in the room.

Having an apprentice like this really was quite pleasant.

Snape speared a slice of turkey. It genuinely was far better than anything served at school.

He had, it seemed, somehow stumbled into the same lavish lifestyle as Horace Slughorn.

--------------

Christmas Eve was a beautiful holiday.

But across all three hundred and sixty-five days of the year, no matter the date, there would always be people determined to court disaster, bold souls who liked to push right up against every limit common sense had to offer.

Berwick-upon-Tweed, tucked into the northeastern county of Northumberland in England, should by rights have been the kind of place that almost no one visited.

Yet a newspaper with a fairly wide readership had recently run a story about it.

Deadly Haunted House, Graveyard of Mediums.

The lurid headline sent media outlets scrambling to investigate the area.

The experts ultimately concluded only that decaying mold in the building had been inhaled by explorers, causing hallucinations.

But there were always young people who had caught the story on the evening news, and they kept coming, one wave after the next.

Even Christmas Eve could not stop them from staging their little dares.

The lock on the front door had been sealed shut, but the lower third had been completely hacked open with an axe, leaving a gap considerably larger than a dog flap.

Several Muggle adventurers, headlamps strapped to their foreheads, queued up and crawled through one by one.

Their nerves were wound tight. The slightest sound made them jump.

Which gave them every opportunity to mock each other: "If you're scared, just go spend Christmas at your mum's!"

The laughter carried a long, long way across the desolate grounds.

The car they had driven out in had stalled at some point, nobody had noticed exactly when.

Inside the old house, their torchbeams cut narrow columns through the dark.

Sofas and other furniture lay draped in cobwebs, colors eaten away by time until they had faded to almost nothing. The explorers swept their lights into every corner, then craned upward to illuminate the ceiling, where a large, deep patch of mold had spread in the shape of a bathtub leak.

A ceiling fan with a built-in light fixture hung overhead. When one of the torch beams swept past it, the fan suddenly started turning.

It stirred little gusts of air that pushed the musty smell out of the room.

But the aging, long-neglected appliance brought noise with it, a rhythmic clanking and rattling that echoed through the stillness.

The torchlight that had already moved on swung back and converged on the fan.

The explorers stared at the appliance that had just switched itself on, unable to believe what they were seeing.

"I... I remember the news saying this place lost power ages ago!" A blonde explorer struggled to keep her voice steady, asking her companions with what she imagined was a calm expression.

"There might be another power source — or maybe the crew left a generator behind last time!" Her companion scrambled to find an explanation that held together.

Then something even stranger happened.

➤ Next: The Manor Entrance