capeandcowllogs | (no subject)

Snape had spend years crafting an imagine as unapproachable and little did he realize that Sally wanted to undo it all. He arrived as punctual as ever, still in black and still looking -- well, like Snape.

He liked looking like Snape, thank you.

"Sally," he greeted, knowing he'd be chided if he went to Miss Jupiter. He's got a wizarding satchel under one arm, likely holding the papers and promises of the businesses he'd been contacting.

Sally takes note of the satchel he's carrying, and a smile is plastered on her face as she looks up at him after taking a second to glance at his clothes. Yup, she was right...he was a man of a single style.

"Long time no see, hon." There's a sort of lyrical note to her voice, as though she's hiding something, and she moves a bit nearer to him, but keeping in mind of his personal bubble. "I see you got your notes all in order."

Buttons, frock-coat; he wore it well. It was comfortable, like armor you knew well. He had come a long way from wearing hand me downs from his father, who refused to spend money on his boy's own clothes.

"I do," he says, looking down at her; close to her, he relaxed, fractionally at ease moment after moment. He couldn't say why, bu she simply made him feel... comfortable.

That should have made him nervous, and did when they were parted. Old wariness reared it's head then. But when she was near, it was a hazy thought at the back of his mind, that was all.

"Well, you can keep 'em tucked away for now." She fixes a strand of loose hair behind her ear. "I remembered I have a few places to stop by, an' you'll definitely want to come along."

She begins to head towards wherever she was planning on leading him. Maybe she should have just told him right off the bat, but she had a feeling he'd leave her then and there as soon as she started with it again.

Again, it was for his own good. She appreciated personal style, she had it herself. Sticking with it thick and thin despite having it get her in trouble that one fateful time.

But the thing is, her sense of style was actually a style. For Snape it was. Well. She knew she could improve it. Not that she was going to make it into a whole big project, but for the sake of the event and his overall wardrobe, she'd be doing him a few favours by giving him varying clothes.

The tailor she was headed towards was only ten, fifteen minutes away, after all.

Snape's brows went up, though he trailed along -- not like an obedient puppy, but like the ... well, bat she described him as. Maybe like one's own, presonal storm cloud.

"What errands do you have?" he asked, watching the back of her hair, perhaps a touch wary. Women bewilder him, a lot of the time. Especially women like Sally; they're vibrant, have a mind of their own. Predicting what they'll do is like predicting which way the hurricane will turn. You can guess, but it may not be quite on target.

"You'll see!" Another lyric to her voice, and an added wiggle to her walk as she guides him across the street. They're finally at the outside of the tailor she had been headed to, someone she had gone to every now and then when she needed something spruced up, or an altogether new outfit or dress. It was humbly small, but not only did it cater to people who either wanted something taken in or fixed up, but it also had a decent selection of clothing that Sally thought were classy.

The selection was vast for such a quaint little place, ranging from clothing that would fit the 2011 era, or 'retro' clothes fixed up to accommodate the rapidly changing fashion of the city. One of the women greeted her by first name.

Snape slows a little, standing in the door way-- sunlight beats at his back, pouring blackness before him in his long, tall shadow. He is not sure what to make of this.

He has turned wary; but he is Severus Snape, and he does not know what Sally is yet capable of. Has he just been duped into shopping with her? He's got ... well, alright, he doesn't have much to do but he's not looking pleased about this; he finally lets the door shut and comes inside, looking about the place with a careful eye.

The woman who greeted Sally gives Snape a look as she enters, seeming to shirk away. Congrats Snape, your unapproachable image does its job as usual. Sal just gives a tutting laugh, looking over her shoulder at Snape with a smile. A foxish smile.

"The men's selection's over here, hon."

She's still not telling him a thing, just hinting and going along with this as though it were nothing. Men tend to go along with women so long as they don't spell things out for them. Not that men listened to women when they had it spelt out to them in the beginning...

"It ain't much. I might pop by a bigger store, but this place always has little treasures, y'know?"

Snape reaches up for a moment to pinch the bridge of his nose and count, perhaps, to ten.

"Are you still on about this? Truly? It's clothing. It's not that important. Once the deal with the D.O.I. goes through I will be able to expand if I see fit," Snape says, giving the woman who shrinks back a black look as he follows Sally onward, still protesting. "But as it is, I am not in need of an update or a styling or whatever you want to call it."

"Clothing's important, hon." She's browsing through the racks now. "Without 'em we'd all be running around naked." There's a pause as she examines a rather nice-looking suit, cocking a hip to her side as she tilts her head a little. She hands it over to him and continues sifting through the rack.

"You get all the wrong kinda looks when you stalk around in that Victorian-era outfit of yours. I want my partner to look damn near dapper when that ball comes along."

She shoots him a look. It's pleasant, with a smile as always, but there's a sort of command behind those eyes of hers. She's a woman of image. The main reason why she withheld from putting charges against Edward Blake was because she didn't want her image tainted. The reason why she wore that skimpy little costume of hers in the first place was for the sake of image. The reason why she wanted Laurie to follow in her footsteps was all for the sake of image.

Image was honestly all Sally had, so the idea of clothes "just being clothing" was something that never crossed her currently business-oriented mind.

"I am well aware of -- cultivating a certain persona," Snape says, guarded now even as she shoots him that look. "But this one is quite comfortable to me. And I do not stalk."

He glides, maybe. Or flaps.

Still, she has his attention. Part if him is curious enough to wonder what she's going to try and do with this all, and the rest of him is clutching his frock, deep in his heart, and refusing to let it go.

"Am I to dress as a Muggle, then? Deny what I am?" he asks, very carefully watching her reaction with his beetle-black eyes. She's a shrewd thing, but if she's gotten a fool notion, he'll ferret it out. But then he says, more carefully, and a touch more quietly. "I wasn't aware we were partners."

This isn't a gainsay - more of a question, couched carefully in that short phrase: just what is the game here?

"Honey, you don't see yourself when you 'walk'. It's not in very good form." She continues to pick and choose various items of clothing out, placing some over her arm and others are passed over to him to hold.

"I've met other magical folk in this City an' they don't dress like you. Dunno what makes a Muggle a Muggle with clothes, but I'm not telling you to deny. Just...y'know, give yourself a better image." She's satisfied with the current selection and turns to face him fully. Her shoulders are square, and her jawline ridged as she looks up at him. She can be commanding when she wants to be, even with that smile of hers still places genuinely on her face.

"Business partners. You're workin' with me an' I'm workin' with you for this whole ball and date auction bit. And with Danny gone it's just the two of us again. Unless your folk have a different term for that."

He frowns slightly; he does not want to have to explain that this is something he has cultivated, an image he has developed and embrace, a sheild against weakness and intimacy, to block those who would attempt to get close.

But she blythely says they're partners (and it seems that simple to her, even if it's less so to Snape) and that means-- well, that means she's ignored all that and is here with him regardless.

Damned woman.

He stand there, looking at her for a moment as she smiles at him -- and then simply nods once, his brows furrowing. "We don't. We just tend to -- be more formal. Oaths, even. Magically binding. Not that we don't have our share of paperwork, but... when a wizard binds himself to anything, it tends to be very - obvious."

He smirks, just a little, though it's not as confident as it has been -- she's earning her way into 'this person could be dangerous' catergory for a slew of interesting reasons. "I require none of that with you, however. We're- square, yes?"

He's fairly sure he's heard her use that term... or something like it.

"You folks go all out then, huh? For us it's just...well, you find the right guy, sign a contract, and the two of you get along as partners until one of you fucks up or retires." For her, it was basically both. Her partnership with Larry ended when she fucked up and married him, and it basically became voided when she went and got herself pregnant and retired. Following that were years of...a questionable relationship with her husband and ex-partner.

She nods, a light laugh. "Yes. Square. I mean, if you wanna sign a contract or something, be my guest, but I'm still a bit wary of all this magic binding shit you folks have. If you don't mind me, I prefer the whimsy." She gives the rack one more look-over, before patting his arm slightly, motioning towards a single-stall dressing room. The sort that gives the person just enough room to try clothes on.

"All right, go on and try 'em on. An' don't tell me that you don't like them, just say if they fit and I'll tell you if you should like 'em." He should notice that while more fashionable (and mostly suits and dress pants and whatnot being a soul from the 1950s) the colour range isn't too vibrant. There are some greens and blacks and navy blues.

She does understand colour preference, after all.

"We're a people of rite and ritual, yes," Snape says, smirk remaining. He nods once; refusing to say anything mroe about oaths or contracts-- he's made a few of his own regrettable contracts in his life, much like Sally's, but hers only killed her career, not other people.

But he rolls his eyes and obliging me.

"Is my image so detrimental to yours?" he asks as he goes about checking fit, putting items that work and going through the whole miserable process with aplomb.

Albus has done this once. Made Snape clean himself up. He allowed the man his strange style, though, but made it clear that a professor at Hogwarts needed a certain level of sophistication and panache. Really, he'd just been trying to keep Snape busy after the trials, and keep him focused-- but it worked, all the same.

"You are much more approachable, and more pleasant. I'm good with numbers, and there are people whose company I genuinely enjoy-- and the rest I tolerate." Or despise. "Do I need to be approachable?"

Merlin, he hopes not.

"It's important, yes." She takes a seat outside the dressing room, crossing her legs. She says it in a way that suggests it should explain itself, and that she's basically pushing his fussing aside as she interlocks her fingers and wiggles her foot around as she waits.

She's flattered when he comments on her pleasantness and approachability, and it's marked with a slight chuckle. She goes to fix an nonexistent strand of hair to place behind her ear. "I hope you're enjoying my company hon, even though I'm makin' you go through this awful ordeal. You're almost as bad as my daughter, honestly."

There's a pause. "You need to be presentable an' at least look the part. Your clothing's one thing, but if you don't want folks to approach you, then your attitude'll do them away all by itself." She doesn't even think through the next part as she prattles on. Her mind's trailing to the past as she looks at some of the other retro clothes hanging up. "My ol' teammate Eddie wore some nice stuff in the past at mixers and political parties, but even still people didn't--" she cuts herself off and looks down at her nails, running her thumb against one.

"I mean. Clothing's one thing, appearance is another. Not to mention you should invest in some new clothes at least. You look like you only have five sets, an' they all look alike."

He doesn't stroke her ego any further; he meant what he said (or did he? With Snape, it could be hard to tell) and left it at that. Instead, he stepped out in what he had managed to fit. He had the frame for suits, really; tall, medium build, not too muscular, not so skinny it hung poorly on him.

"I only have four. Just so you know." But then he paused, before he prompted: "Eddie?"

"Well, even more of a reason to get your more clothes, hon." She rises, approaching him and looking him over. The suit, well...suited him. She wasn't a fashion designer, though her input had been put in to making her costume. She motions over to the woman who had greeted her awhile back, and immediately the woman began to tug a bit on the suit, pinning it in places to make it fit even better.

Sally had hoped he wouldn't press, but when he asked her about the name that just slipped out, there was a flicker of something behind her eyes but her expression remains neutral, her lip twitching into a smile she put on whenever she felt the need to hide something.

"Like I said, he was an old teammate. Bit of an intimidatin' fella when he wanted to be, that's all. Ah yes, that looks good. Thank you." She's quick to jump to complimenting the work of the woman pinning the suit.

"Are you intending to have more events where I'll need such flair?" he asks, arching one brow; he stills when the woman comes into his space, and watches her impassively -- but he does watch.

A moment later, he nods once, and goes to change suits so they can take and modify what they have, after all.

"A teammate? Who else did you work with?" Yes, talk of YOUR past, Snape would love to hear it.

"No, but everyone needs a bit of flair in their wardrobe, hon."

There's a bit of a silent sigh as he continues. Sally doesn't mind talking of her past! So long as Eddie's just a blurb in it, everything was fine and dandy when it came down to telling people.

"Oh, a couple other folks. It was a whole team of people who dressed up in costume and fought crime just like out of the comics." She takes her seat again. "I was one of the two women on the team...the Silhouette was the other gal. I was called the Silk Spectre. We had Mothman, Hooded Justice, Captain Metropolis, Dollar Bill, Nite Owl, an' Eddie was the Comedian." She smiles to herself, wrapping herself in nostalgia once again. A bad habit, but she loved living in the past.

"Just a ragtag bunch of people who wanted to dress up and make something of themselves, I guess. No powers though, not like here." Not to mention the fact that besides Hollis who genuinely wanted to do good, the rest of them were...well...not all right in the head. Sally herself included.

He snorts once, but doesn't argue. He's too busy dealing with the idea of too few buttons, as opposed to too many. He listens as he dresses, trying to reconcile what men and women with such colorful nicknames must be like.

He suspects they were all a little crazy, yes.

"Silk, I see. No wonder you enjoy dress up," he finally drawls, before he comes out again. "At least when our youth set out to change the world, we have magic at our call. Then again, perhaps that's not the best, either."

After all, he remembers his revolution... an how terrible it was.

"We weren't set to change the world, just the city we lived in. But really, for most of us it was fun. Or, business." Again, she approaches, and this outift doesn't need much touching up. She merely ignores his personal bubble for a moment to fix the collar for a second before taking a step back.

"We had kids overseas doing the world changing for us."

She runs a nail across her lower lip, nodding along. "You look good in outfits that don't bind you up, hon. They work for you."

"You don't think suits are binding?" he smirks still, and this time the humor genuinely reaches his eyes. Rarely is he paid a compliment that is sincere, and though Severus Snape would have you believe that he does not need anything from anyone, like any Slytherin, he needs his ego stroked regularly. "My frock-coats and cloaks are not much different. Just a taller collar and longer sleeves."

Snape's usual ensemble is a little closer to the bone. Suits are a hint looser about him. But he has the form for it.

"Aren't you familiar with the so-called ripple affect? Toss a stone into a still pond, ripples, so forth-- didn't you think what you did would be the same?" he asks, as he allows pinning again, before going back to go through another suit-- this one more retro in style.

"Compared to what you normally wear, suits aren't binding at all. An' that says something." She doesn't sit down this time, and instead goes to browse through the women's selection as he gets pinned and heads back to the dressing room.

There's a bit of a pause as he mentions the ripple effect. She's a savvy lady, but there are certain things that go over her head. While she's never heard of the effect itself, it's self explanatory.

"I thought what I did would get me out of burlesque an' into the movies." She holds out a dress, looking at it absentmindedly. "I came close. The movie made after my life story was basically a soft core porno though, but can't say I didn't hit it big. I got myself fans...they still write to me y'know."

The strangled noise that comes from the dressing room is -- well, she's finally managed to shock him into not being able to phrase a proper response. A moment later he comes out in his clothes.

"Are you quite serious?" he shakes his head. "I'm happy to sink into the mire of ignominy, though it was not the choice I would have taken in my youth."

Though really, he's not entirely truthful. Some part of him craves recognition for the good he's done, but the rest of him has given up on anything of the sort... and then there's the part of him that's afraid. Severus Snape's a conflicted man on the best of days.

"I can't even say I cultivate many relationships with my students," he adds. "I've a godson who has reached school age, but-- that's a unique situation."

She's not surprised by his reaction, and continues to look at the women's clothing, but she smirks to herself. Funny how men either have two reactions when it comes to learning about either her burlesque years or her seedy softcore flick. They either suddenly become really interested, or choke up.

"Honey, if I had my Tijuana Bibles or pin-ups or whatever else that had my image slapped on 'em with me I'd show you 'em, seein' as you sound shocked beyond your years." There's a laugh. She looks over, watching him emerge from the dressing room for the third time. "It's not much of a mire if it gets you folks who'd write you love letters for years, even after your busted-up marriage."

She's smiling. She genuinely means what she says. Attention was attention, and that was something she needed, no matter how shameful it seemed to other people. The woman's already set to work pinning his outfit to better fit him once again, while Sally's gives the attire a look over. Retro, not bad.

"Ooh, I like this one. An' I bet with a green tie you'd get some colour in that face of yours." She looks up at him, smile still plastered on her face. Now it's her turn to ask. "Unique how?"

"It's simply not something one discusses so frankly," Snape says, some what ill at ease; Sally was much more comfortable in her skin then he was; no surprise, it was a prettier skin then he had. "I'm not sure if it's that you're American or Muggle, or both-- as I've never met an American wizard of my own world, I cannot say. But we are a conservative society on the best of days."

But as she suggests a tie, he touches his collar briefly -- right below the neat, clean -- but very new -- scars that mar his neck; Nagini's gift. Snake fangs are sharp, and they enter and leave the flesh so quickly one barely feels it, but for the weight of the creature's strike and strength. One bite, another-- so many neat, clean dots where her teeth opened his neck and delivered her poison.

He seems less then confident with her assessment, over all -- but rather then dwell on all that these loose clothes expose and supposedly enhance, he answers her question.

Sort of.

"His family is highly placed, wealthy. I was -- not. We were school mates, though, and friends for many years after, despite our difference in background. His family also has many enemies, and they ask me to watch after him, guide him." And so he does. Draco is dear to him -- as much as Snape can have affection for a person without having it be ugly -- or at least, too ugly.

"The society I'm from's conservative too. I'm from the fifties, honey. I mean, it's no Victorian era, but it sure as hell not like society today. I just don't censor myself like other women." It wasn't that Sally was comfortable with herself, but her self-esteem issues were far different from Snape's. She needed to constantly remind herself that she was wanted, that she was desirable to men. Oftentimes she second-guessed herself, but had to put on a show that she didn't.

"I'm not ashamed. It gave me enough money to keep myself living how I wanted to live, an' apparently I manage fine on my own. I'd rather be a sex symbol than a housewife. What gal wouldn't want all those flattering letters? And all things considered, I think things'll work out for the best." She tugs down on her shirt, adjusting herself pointedly, and goes back to the dress she had been looking at while her question was answered.

There's a distant smile as she responds. "That's not too unique, friends looking out for friends. But I'm sure the kid appreciates it, havin' someone looking out for 'em. That's something a lot of folks should have." She turns away from the dress, hanging it back up, and again she approaches him. The woman's done pinning.

"I think the three I've seen are good for now, unless you're rarin' to try on one more."

Snape has no idea what it's like to be without shame-- whether it was for being poor, for being very obviously poor, for hand me downs or battered books, for being in the 'wrong' House, for... a lot of things, he did over the year.

"It's-- difficult for me to fathom," he finally says. "I think we-- craft much different images, for much different reasons." He guards himself against being wanted, settles into the idea that he will never be, while she struggles against it. THey've built themselves around opposing poles of the same idea.

But he heads back to get his own clothes, shaking his head. "I've done enough for today." Once inside, he smirks, though, and says, "Your daughter must not be a teenager. Draco does everything but appreciate my efforts. It rankles him, now that he's reached adolescence. But the hazards to his life are real, and I do my best to keep him from running headlong into them. No matter what House, children can often be dunces about listening to sense..."

Sally, meanwhile, heads over to talk to the man behind the counter, and she waits for Snape to finish changing. There's another one of those laughs of hers. "She's starting to rebel...and lord knows I dealt with her older self around here. Kids just don't understand that we're just tryin' to look out for 'em, y'know. Keep their best interests in mind and have them do what's best for them in the end."

Again, there's a bit of distance to her voice as she continues. "So they don't wind up making the same mistakes as us."

Yes, he recalls she mentioned that. That things happened and her daughter was here, all grown and following in her footsteps. Must've been a bit difficult. Lily and Harry, Sally and Laurie...

"No, they don't. But you have the right of it." All of it, really, right down to the line about mistakes.

Now comfortably, dressed, he comes back out to peer over her shoulder. She better not have paid for this glorious mess or he may get cross.

Funny, because as soon as he looks over her shoulder she's filling out a check and talking to the man at the counter about how long it'll take for the adjustments to be made, when they can be picked up, etc. etc.

The price she's writing on the check is a bit...hefty, to say the least, but Sally has been a financially savvy woman since her days as a runaway in New York, and has a decent amount of money stored away. She doesn't seem too worried about it. She finishes, signing it with a carefully practiced signature, and hands it to the man before Snape can say or do anything about it.

"A loan," Snape says very calmly. "Once the business is up, we'll handle the rest."

A man who has been poor does not take charity easily, even when it's with the best intentions. Still, he allows it for now and rationalizes that it will be a business expense, and more importantly, paid back.

"Or you can just treat me to dinner." It's a joke, of course, and she gathers herself, nodding thanks to the man. She turns to Snape, and makes her way to the exit of the shop.

"They'll be ready in three days. I can pick 'em up for you and leave them outside your place if you'd like."

"I suppose I could do one better and cook for you. I hear this is a rare skill among men these days," says Snape as he follows her out with a smirk. "Though I rarely cook for anyone but myself."

He nods once. "I can pick them up." A pause. "And not stop and request that your money be refunded. You've my word."

After all, there's no point in no getting a row with one's partner over clothes. He can work this to his advantage later.

"Oh I wouldn't want you to go through that much trouble for little old me, hon." She laughs and waves it away, blinking the light away from her eyes as they start out to the sidewalk again. "But it is, though I do know another cook in the City."

Sanji was always more than willing to prepare meals for her.

There's a nod. "Good. I told 'em you'd probably try something funny. Trust me hon, I have expenses to spare. I can splurge a little when I want." She's walking back towards the way they came.

"Now then. We can discuss what I promised we'd talk about."

"And here I'd thought you'd forgot, and I'd carried this pack of paperwork for nothing..." he smirks though, pleased to have her attention back on business. After all, there were forms to be filled, charity resources to be exploited, and so forth...

He followed her, trusting her to go back to the original plan for now, errands finished. After all, there was only so much Severus Snape could endure in a day, and he'd hit his limit. Later, without pheromones to keep him both interested and somewhat pliant, he'd be much more wroth about the whole thing.

Edited 2011-09-03 05:17 (UTC)

"Lord knows I don't want you to bear such a burden for nothing." It's a playful sarcasm, and she carries on walking, stopping at a crosswalk. It's a shame it's still too early to head to a bar to sort business out, not to mention that it's a Tuesday.

Sucks when you don't have an office or an HQ, though her and Larry used to conduct business in his apartment mostly, until the Minutemen were formed and they had the team's HQ set up. The cafe, after all, was mainly a way for the two of them to meet up easily.

She wasn't going to sidetrack this anymore. While she had had her fun, and was surprised at how pliant Snape had been despite his fussing before, she knew that business was business and paperwork shouldn't be left unattended.

She'll leave the destination up to him. "You have any good places to talk about an' go over paperwork? We could head over to the cafe again, but I wouldn't mind setting up a spot in my apartment for that if you can't think of a better place for business. Don't know if you want quiet while talking this shit over or not."

"There are always ways to make sure space is quiet and undisturbed, public or otherwise," Snape replies as he goes along, alluding to the magic at his disposal-- he'd designed spells to preserve privacy before, for things just like this. "The MAC is fine if you wish, or the cafe."

He remained fairly pliant -- where he had not been so across the network -- in her presence so far. (Damn pheromones.)

One of these days she'll figure out it's her unknown powers and not her overwhelmingly charming personality and hotness that's been helping her out all this time. Because honestly, she's assuming he's going along with what she's been making him do being she's a pretty lady.

"I'll fix us up some coffee back home while we talk business, then. It's a bit of a wreck, but it's only a temporary stay." Nothing she wasn't used to. Back before she started running around as the Silk Spectre, she changed apartments every few weeks while trying to find her City footing.

Snape is remarkably immune to pretty ladies; even pretty red-heads... Alas.

"I'm not the only one looking to get out of the MAC, then?" Snape hates the place, but it is what it is. A place to stay until better things are found. The idea of-- even in a foreign place-- finally having a home, a place not attached to the misery of his family life.

The first step toward being his own man, really. To not be under a roof that was someone else's. His father's, or Albus's.

She's headed inside the MAC and to her apartment now, leading the way as she has been for the day. "I moved out the last time I was here and shacked up in my own little apartment in a nicer part of town. Shame my landlord couldn't save it for a second time." It was also a shame that the landlord cost her a few pairs of undergarments for keeping her stuff safe, but again, she liked him and didn't think much of it when she found out.

"You looking at anywhere specific, hon?" She opens her door and flicks on the light. It's not much of a mess, but there are still some cardboard boxes from her old apartment set up in the corner. There are a few picture frames sitting at the coffee table, notably one of her and her daughter from when Laurie had popped into the city, and of course that damned photo of all the Minutemen she had somehow managed to bring along during her second time coming to the City.

She's headed to the small kitchen to get the coffee maker started, somewhat signalling for Snape to make himself at home and get the paperwork ready.

"A house," Snape says, still following along. "My godson has come to the city. In the event he needs to be housed, extra room is good. Also, a place for a lab, and so forth. A condo or one of the apartments just doesn't suit, and the brownstones are incredibly expensive."

One inside her apartment -- which is the same layout of pretty much all the apartments there -- he settles in the living area, and starts layout out paperwork.

"Aren't many houses in a city like this." She says this all from the kitchen, but heads on back. The coffee'll be ready in a few, but sitting around watching it drip wouldn't do her any good. "But I wish you luck. Finding a place that's both big an' inexpensive is hard, especially this day in age."

She takes a seat in a chair across from him, eyes glancing over the paperwork briefly. "Guess I'm lucky that it's just me myself an' I that I have to look out for."

"It would be easier, certainly," Snape says, agreeing with her assessment that one is much easier then two. "I don't have much by the way of needs for myself. However, when it comes to homes... wizards often take dilapidated wrecks in Muggle areas, and enchant them, restore them -- and then hide them from view."

Spinner's End wasn't like that, but he knows Grimmauld Place was, certainly. Of course, it was it's own special brand of creepy, and not because it was run down.