Chapter Text
“That’s a suicide mission!”
“Worse. It’s a murder mission, and it’ll kill everyone, literally. I still think I should do it.”
“So, will you try it?” Avery twitched his eyebrows, a sly smile curving his thin lips.
“Nah,” Mulciber grumbled, “my mum will kill me if I Apparate.”
“Why? You’ve got your licence for two bloody years!”
“Yeah, well, try telling her!”
Avery chuckled. “Be careful her thumb doesn’t smash you, Mulc, you’re so deep under it …”
“Oh, stow it!” he hissed, poking his elbow into his classmate’s ribs. “Just find someone else to bunk off with and leave me alone.”
The next second, Avery’s eyes fastened on Severus, and his pulse spiked. “Snape!” he bellowed, loud enough that surely even the Gryffindors on the other side of the Great Hall had heard him; Severus resisted the urge to turn round and look for one particular redhead, but he couldn’t stop himself from rolling his shoulders against the prickle in his back.
“What?” he snarled, taking a bite of his toast instead of smuggling it into his cloak pocket to devour later on the train back to London.
“Fancy saving yourself seven hours on the train?”
“Hell no!”
Avery groaned, Mulciber chuckled and winked at Severus.
Bloody idiot.
“But why not? We’re adults! Fuck, we’ve finished school! Nobody can stop us now!”
Severus tore his eyes off Mulciber and fastened them on Avery. “Wrong. We’re considered students of this school until we set foot onto the platform in King’s Cross,” he lectured him, trying to imitate Lucius’s drawl, “and taking the train back is mandatory. I won’t fuck with my education just for your bloody kicks!”
“Ugh, you’re such a wet blanket, Snape …”
He gave him the finger, and when the idiots were finally busy with themselves again, he sneaked some more food into his pockets while simultaneously stuffing more scrambled eggs into his mouth. Mh, so good …
But all too soon, McGonagall rose from her chair, and everything vanished from the tables. “It is time to get your luggage and return home, the Hogwarts Express will leave in an hour. I wish all of you a lovely summer, and to those of you who won’t return in autumn, a good start to your adult lives! As always, Mr Filch awaits you at the gates, and please! Behave! I don’t fancy contacting your parents and spoiling their beautiful day!” Her smile seemed almost genuine, yet Severus couldn’t help narrowing his eyes at her.
“What’s wrong?” Mulciber asked and poked him in the ribs as well, almost squishing the sandwiches in Severus’s pocket.
“Where’s Dumbledore? Why is McGonagall bidding us goodbye?”
He looked around at the teachers’ table, then he shrugged. “Dunno. Does it matter?”
Severus made a non-committal sound and got going at last. Letting himself be swept out of the Great Hall and back down into the dungeons for the last time, he tried to keep the food out of everyone’s way, but there were so many students hurrying around mindlessly that he did collide with someone at last.
“Sorry,” he mumbled out of reflex, then he looked around, finding that said someone was at least as suspicious as Dumbledore’s absence.
A woman of about thirty years, a tad bit smaller than him, but not one of the teachers. He had, in fact, never seen her before. “No, it was my fault,” she laughed awkwardly, “I’m sorry! Please, don’t let me stop you.” She gestured in the vague direction of the dungeon corridor, and Severus got going again.
Only when she’d been swallowed by the crowd of students did he realise that he was wearing his casual robes already. How did she know I was a Slytherin?
It wasn’t until on the train that he found something more was amiss about this day. He’d sneaked away from the compartment he was sharing with his dorm mates to find an empty one and quickly eat some of the food that was hidden in his cloak pockets, but when he pulled out the slightly soggy sandwiches, a folded piece of parchment tumbled to the floor.
What the … Frowning, Severus put the sandwiches aside and bent down to get it.
‘Meet me at King’s Cross if you dare, WHSmith’s.’
He read the note multiple times before his gaze began ghosting through the compartment, his mind reeling in the steady clack-clack clack-clack of the moving train. Meeting? Whom?
Was Avery taking the piss out of him?
Then he remembered the run-in with that woman in the Entrance Hall. She’d come from the right direction to smuggle that note into his pocket …
But why would she? Who was she? And what did she want from him?
A jumble of voices drew nearer, and Severus stuffed the note back into his pocket before he gobbled down one of the sandwiches. He still had some time to make up his mind. And to watch Avery …
King’s Cross was a mess, as always. Kids were screaming, parents shouting, owls screeching, trunks tumbling down the stairs. Severus watched a younger student struggle with his and smirked when he snatched his wand and cast a Feather-light Charm on his before he made it hover beside him. He’d have to cancel that last one as soon as he passed through to the Muggle part of the train station, but it was worth it for the glare that followed him.
“You’re a prick,” Mulciber stated, laughing, when he caught up with Severus.
“No, I’m free!”
His grin widened. “Yes, we are! Are you coming to Lucius’s next week? It’ll be grand! You shouldn’t miss it!”
“I won’t.”
“Perfect! See you then!” And with a last clap on Severus’s shoulder, Mulciber was gone.
Severus focused on all of his classmates joining their waiting parents instead, swallowing the thick feeling swelling in his throat, and as if his eyes were magically drawn to her, he found Lily’s auburn hair in the crowd. The lump in his throat turned sour, and his face twisted when he noticed Potter’s black mop next to her, smiling politely as he was introduced to her parents.
Fucking wanker.
He tore his eyes away, and although he really tried, he was unable to stop himself from scanning the platform for another familiar face. But of course, his mother hadn’t bothered to come. Curling his lip, he took off his cloak and stuffed it into his trunk; it was too hot to wear anyway, and now that the pockets were empty, it didn’t matter. Then he got going again, following the growing stream of people leaving the hidden platform in small groups.
He passed through with a mother ushering her two children forward, and leaving the soft trickle of magic behind, Severus stopped to look around. That note and its message were churning in the back of his mind, had during all the remaining travel here. Should he risk getting humiliated and go meet whoever had written it? Nothing about Avery’s behaviour had seemed fishy to him, so maybe … Maybe it hadn’t been him after all.
A deep frown plastered on his forehead, he looked in the direction of the local WHSmith shop, the bleary announcement of some change in the railway schedule flowing past his ears. If he carefully sneaked closer …
Checking his surroundings, Severus got going, flowing with the stream of people again, sticking to the other side of the train station and only casting glances at the shop. ‘STEEL STRIKE LOOMS’, the Daily Mirror declared from one of the magazine racks, and Severus stopped, tilting his head to be able to look past it. His grip around his trunk handle tightened, a bead of sweat forming at the back of his neck.
Then he spotted her. It was that bloody woman!
What the hell?! What did she want from him?
But curiosity got the better of him. Clenching his teeth, he looked around again, just to make sure none of his classmates were still around to see him, then he ruthlessly pushed through the people.
“Have a care!” somebody shouted at him, but Severus ignored them.
He moved in a wide berth through the crowd and carelessly put down his trunk before he covertly drew his wand and pushed the tip into her neck when he approached her from behind. “What do you want from me?” he hissed, and she gave a tiny gasp. “And who the hell are you?”
A shocked second passed, then she slowly turned her head a bit. “I’d tell you if you’d put that down.”
“Well, tough luck!”
“Pity.” With a swift motion, she whirled around, blocked his arm and snatched his wand from his hand, letting it disappear so quickly even he didn’t clock where she’d put it.
Fuck.
“Will you now stop acting like a wanna-be spy, or do I need to incapacitate you in earnest?” She twitched her eyebrows and smiled smugly.
Ten minutes later, he’d followed her to a chippy near the train station and used her offer to have him by ordering a large serving of fish ’n’ chips. He wasn’t overly hungry yet, his sandwiches still kept him quite full, but one never knew when another chance like this arose, so he would use it.
“A drink, too?” she asked unfazed.
“Coke.”
There were little dining nooks, and although it didn’t seem like the best idea to sit down in one of those with a woman he didn’t know, she didn’t seem dangerous enough for him to object to her suggestion. Still, he kept his wand—which she’d actually given back the moment he agreed not to attack her for now—in hand and pointed it at her underneath the table.
“Any reason you don’t shrink that?” she asked and nodded at his trunk that was standing beside the table and blocking part of the way to the other tables.
“None of your business.”
She nodded slowly, her lips thinning. Contrary to him, she’d only ordered a water and was watching him eat, although, he thought, she could do with some food, too. Her complexion was paler than he’d realised at Hogwarts, her cheekbones standing out rather prominently. Only her hazel eyes seemed alert and lively, and they scrutinised him curiously, taking in every single detail of his appearance. “What d’you want from me?” Severus asked again when he began feeling uncomfortable. “And—“
“—who are you, I know,” she cut in. “Don’t you want to eat in peace first? I won’t run away.”
“No.”
She sighed. “Very well. My name is Jean Cavanagh, and I want to help you.”
“Help me with what?” he asked, chewing on a chip.
A muscle underneath her eye ticked. “With everything, I guess.”
He scoffed. “I don’t need help.”
She barked a borderline hysterical laugh—“Sure …”—and took a sip of her water.
Fuck’s sake?! “What is that supposed to mean?” For the first time in his life, he actually felt like he had some kind of control over what was happening to him. He needed no fucking help! Not anymore! He’d almost succeeded in pulling himself out of the cesspool that was Cokeworth and the abysmal situation his parents had borne him into. He had Lucius’s support and an amazing prospect for his next years. He’d have needed help five years ago, but not now.
The doorbell rang, and another patron entering the chippy distracted her. Then her gaze, intense like a spotlight, fastened on him again. “That means that I know who you are and what you’re about to do, and I want to give you another option. You might think that what you’re planning to do is the only feasible way for your life to get better than what you had up ‘til now, but that’s not the case. In fact, the opposite is true.”
What I’m … “What the hell are you talking about, lady?”
Another tick of her muscle, then she rubbed her teeth against each other, contemplating.
Only to catch him cold yet again when she swiftly whipped out her wand and cast first a Notice-Me-Not, then a bloody Muffliato!
“How do you know that spell?” Severus blurted and shot up. The edge of the bench uncomfortably pressed into the back of his knees, his plate rattled, but he managed a sufficiently stable stand to point his wand at her openly now.
She looked up at him languidly. “Sit back down.”
“No?” he laughed mirthlessly.
“Now!” she added and twitched her chin at him.
It was such an assertive and no-nonsense kind of gesture that his heart seemed to skip a beat. Slowly, he sank back down onto the bench.
Nodding approvingly, she straightened her back and—despite his wand still pointing at her—said, “I told you I know who you are.”
“But you didn’t tell me whether that’s a good or a bad thing,” he hissed, tightening his grip on the handle.
“Would you believe me if I said it was a good thing?”
Hell no!
The right corner of her mouth ticked up. “See?” Folding her hands on the table, her wand nowhere to be seen anymore, contrary to his, she regarded him. “So, as to what the hell I’m talking about,” she then proceeded, “I strongly advise you to cut ties with Lucius Malfoy and the man who calls himself Lord Voldemort as soon as possible.”
He laughed. “Why the hell should I?” he spat. “Just because you say so? Then you don’t know me at all! And I bet you don’t know Lucius either! Or Lord Voldemort, for that matter!” Cutting ties … right.
“I do know them. I wish I didn’t, but I do, in fact, know what I’m talking about. Better than you do. I especially know what Lord Voldemort’s true plans are.”
“Everybody knows,” Severus sneered. “He wants to become Minister of Magic. And he will! Soon!”
She huffed. “He will never be Minister of Magic.” Under her breath, she added, “That’s one disaster we’ll be spared …”
What? “Are you a bloody Seer or …”
She looked back at him. “No. Just someone who knows a lot.”
“Well, so far I’m not impressed.” He pointedly poked his fork into a piece of fish.
“It’s not my goal to impress you, but if you want me to … You’re from Cokeworth. You’ve been best friends with Lily Evans until you called her a not-so-nice word. A group of four boys, consisting of James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew, made your life at Hogwarts a living hell. They didn’t even stop after you found out Lupin has a furry problem, and the reason they could just go on as before is that Albus Dumbledore let them. They always knew where you’ve been, there was no place to hide for you when they set their mind on messing with you, and to this day, you have no idea how they did that. You are afraid they might go on even now, as you’ve all left school, that they will still know where you are whenever they like to mess with you, but I can promise you, they won’t. The reason they knew where you were at Hogwarts won’t help them anymore now.”
How the … He’d stopped chewing his fish about halfway through her statements, and the bite seemed to double in his mouth while time was first slowing down, then snapping into the back of his head so brutally, he almost spat the fish on the table. He rinsed it down with some Coke, begging his brain to work again, but everything she said felt like square blocks of information he tried to push through round holes, so the only thing he managed to say at last was, “What?”
She smiled indulgently. And maybe a tad bit smugly. “See? Now you’re impressed.”
Cow. He squared his shoulders. “Even if, why would I trust you? I don’t even know who you are! You lured me here with that note and-and food! Who says you won’t kill me first chance you get?”
“It’s not my wand pointing at you right now, is it?”
His gaze twitched to his trusted tool and back to her face.
“And if I’d wanted to kill you, I could have done so the moment we ran into each other at Hogwarts. You were distracted and a laughably easy target. That note I smuggled into your pocket could have been the tip of my wand pressing into your spine before I cast the killing curse, and you would have gone down silently, so silently that I’d have long been gone when somebody stumbled over your dead body. If I’d wanted to kill you, Severus Snape, you’d have long been dead.” She said all of that with the same calm and steady voice as all the stuff before, a voice that slid into his ears, infested his brain, and rippled down his spine. Not entirely uncomfortable, though …
He clenched his teeth to keep himself from swallowing. “And you think that’d make me trust you more?”
“No,” she said and leaned back, taking a deep breath. “I don’t need you to trust me. Not yet. I just needed you to listen to me. I’m offering you an alternative to what you think is the only way to go for you, and I advise you to take it, because I know who you are and I know what you’re heading for.” She dug for something in her cloak pocket, a movement that caused Severus to grip his wand tighter again. She either didn’t notice or didn’t mind, an attitude that did impress him, too, he couldn’t deny that. Eventually, she pulled out a slip of parchment. “This is my address in London. Should you find yourself curious to find out more about what I can offer you, come visit me.” She put the folded piece on the table and met his eyes again, only for a moment, but it was an intense moment. Then she got up. “Eat your fish ‘n’ ships before they go cold.”
When she passed the dining nook, however, he reached out and grasped her wrist. He winced from the sensation of her warm, soft skin underneath his fingertips, but she stopped and jerked her head around to look down at him, her eyes wider than before. “Who are you?” he asked again. “Why are you doing this?”
The woman, Jean Cavanagh, swallowed and smiled mirthlessly, albeit strained. “Maybe, if I decide that I can trust you, I might tell you.” Then she twisted out of his grip, rubbed her wrist, and left the chippy, letting him alone with his whirling thoughts and a slip of parchment that gave him more questions than answers.
Severus wandered the streets of London for some more hours, trying to make sense of this strange encounter (in vain) before returning to Cokeworth; with his stomach full of fish ‘n’ ships, he’d have been doomed to throw up from squeezing himself through an Apparition. And, well, he didn’t want to go back home earlier than necessary either, so …
It was late in the night when he Apparated and stayed standing where he was, warily glancing around. But everything was silent. After about a minute of listening, he relaxed a bit.
Was it true? Would Potter and Black really never await him anywhere ever again?
But how the hell had they done it at Hogwarts? Fucking psychopaths …
He swallowed and got going, sneaking along the dirty streets, each one of them echoing decay and rancidness. He wrinkled his nose at the familiarity that had become surprisingly unfamiliar since he’d last been here, covered up by years at Hogwarts and holidays at Malfoy Manor.
Unfortunately, Lucius hadn’t invited him for this summer yet, so back to Cokeworth he went.
He was carrying his trunk as if it weren’t charmed to weigh nothing more than a purse, and slipped into his parents’ house after looking left and right and making sure nobody was watching him.
They’d gone to bed already, a blessing, really, and leaving his trunk at the door, Severus sneaked into the kitchen to get himself a glass and fill it with water from his wand. The tap water wasn’t safe to drink, and the food from the chippy had left him parched, probably the salt. He scowled at the floor while he drank it, leaning against the worktop, still turning his conversation with that woman this way and that in his mind.
That was why he winced when his mother appeared at the door, wrapped in her dressing gown, her hair done up with curlers. “You’re back,” she said in a low voice.
“I am.”
She blinked, her eyes twitching to the glass he was holding. “Why?”
Severus frowned. “Why, what?”
His mother cast a glance back into the living room as if she were expecting his father to turn up behind her any second. “Why did you come back?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Severus snarled and emptied the rest of his water into the sink. “This is still my home.”
“Is it?” she whispered sternly. “Because I haven’t seen you round here for at least three years. Only the odd letter, scribbled down messily so I could hardly decipher it, and never a reply to any of mine.”
Be thankful you got at least that. “Calm down,” he muttered, “I won’t stay for long. Just until next week.”
“Will you now?” she huffed and almost forgot to keep her voice down. “Didn’t realise we were a motel now. Do you intend to pay us for having you until next week?”
“Paying?” Severus hissed, glaring at his mother. “After how little you and Da could provide for me, don’t you think it’d be the least to have me for a couple of days after I relieved you of my burden for three full years, and before you’ll never have to see me again? Don’t you think I suffered enough?” Didn’t you suffer enough? He gulped.
And maybe his silent thought had flitted over his face clearly enough for her to catch it because she gulped, too. “You had everything you needed. And now, you’re an adult,” she still said, “so behave like one and provide for yourself. Down the road is a hostel, they offer cheap rooms.”
What the … “Really? You’re kicking me out, Mum?”
“Don’t Mum me!” she whisper-screamed, a sound she’d perfected. “And be grateful I only tell you to leave! Your father wouldn’t hesitate to belt you out the door!”
Severus curled his lip at her. “I didn’t expect anything else from him,” he mumbled, taking his voice down another notch, “But you?” He scoffed.
“I won’t let my own son walk all over me, either. Leave! Or I will wake your father!”
His heart was thumping a mile a minute while he held his mother’s eyes, scowling at her as best he could, then he put the glass down with a clonk and pushed past her, unbothered by whether he was loud enough to wake his father himself.
He’d even have slammed the door shut if his mother hadn’t stopped it.
Severus Apparated out of Cokeworth first. He didn’t have any Muggle money, so the hostel was out of the question anyway. After finding a safe spot—or at least a spot he could make halfway safe with a ward or two, in this case a lonely bus stop—he opened his trunk and counted the coins he had left. Two Galleons and five Sickles. That wouldn’t be enough to rent a room, either Muggle or magical. Not even the Leaky would have him for more than two nights with that, and while two nights would be a start, would buy him some time—literally—to find another solution, it would also leave him broke for good.
So he stuffed the money back into his trunk, careful not to disturb the batch of Felix Felicis he was trying to brew. But the small cauldron was safe in its cushioning bubble, charmed against spilling and still good within the two-day rest period before he had to get it back over a fire tomorrow and continue the brewing process if he didn’t want more than four months of work going to waste.
Plopping down on the bench, Severus dug his fingers into his hair and groaned. What was he supposed to do? Turn up at Malfoy Manor uninvited? He twisted his face. Lucius might be fine with it, but his father? Mr Malfoy had it in for him. Despite even Lord Voldemort’s interest in him and his abilities, Mr Malfoy always eyed him warily as if he were expecting Severus to nick something the moment he failed to keep an eye on him. As if the whole Manor wasn’t warded like fucking Fort Knox! Severus wouldn’t put it past him to deny him accommodation and talk badly about him in front of Lord Voldemort.
And that Severus couldn’t risk.
Staying in the Lord’s and Lucius’s favour was his only way out of Cokeworth, so he had to prove that he was able to provide for himself. That he had his shit together and wasn’t some needy kid anymore who was dependent on getting support left and right.
That meant nobody from the Slytherins must know he’d been banking on Lucius to invite him to stay in Malfoy Manor again after the summer ball next week. Not even Mulciber, Severus remembered sullenly, but for another reason. He trusted Mulc not to tell anybody. He probably wouldn’t even think anything of it. They had been too close for him not to know a thing or two about Severus’s background, even more than a glance at his old pants could reveal.
But that was it. They had been close. Mulciber had finished with him, he wouldn’t go whining to him of all people.
Raising his eyes, Severus fished the slip of parchment that woman had given him out of his pocket. Should he really trust her? Go there? Ask her for a place to stay? She had offered him help … And she’d known a shocking lot about him! Things he’d thought nobody but the involved knew. Was she working with Dumbledore? Or with Potter?
He sneered. There were only few people who could have told her about how relentlessly Potter and his cronies had chased him round the castle at times. She had to be hand in glove with them, right?
Possible … Maybe they were having a good laugh about him right now.
But why would someone her age band together with Potter and Black? And why should Potter and Black go to such lengths to pull one over on him? They couldn’t even have known he’d actually need help that quickly! Would they really ask someone like her to wait for him somewhere in Muggle London in the hope that he’d be stupid enough to really turn up there?
Or even pay someone to do that?
Even to him, that sounded a bit over the top. Yes, they’d had their fun hunting him, but that?
He winced when he heard some distant screeching. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, and by the time he realised it was just cats fighting, he’d already drawn his wand.
Fucking hell … Despite everything, he’d never spent a night outside so far. Did he really want to do that for a week straight? And where was he supposed to get food from? A week without anything was long … Stealing? Or just summoning stuff from a shop? But he was risking being arrested for that—not by the Muggles, but by the bloody Ministry. Groceries floating out the door might be a tad bit too obvious even for Muggles to not take notice of …
God, I’m completely fucked. Putting his elbows on his knees, he buried his face in his hands.
He didn’t want to spend a bloody week on the streets! He might be able to charm some place safe, dry, warm, even cushioned, but he would still be homeless for a week. And using magic around Muggles was a risk anyway. Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley, however, probably wouldn’t let him linger for a full week either.
No, he needed something else. And ‘something else’ encompassed exactly three options: Lucius, Mulciber, or that woman.
He groaned.
Why had she offered him help? How had she known he’d need it? And was this even about giving him a place to sleep? Or did she only want to have him … work for her or something? She had to want something in exchange, right? There had to be a bloody catch! There always was a bloody catch! Whenever someone had offered him something, they’d wanted something in return. Nothing was for free in his world, he always had to pay, most of the time even doubly. So, what did she want? And why hadn’t he thought about asking her straight away? He wasn’t usually that thick …
But she’d caught him off guard.
“Bloody bint,” he muttered, whipping his head around when an engine popped somewhere to his right. But whatever car it had been, it didn’t come his way; after starting successfully on the second try, the sounds vanished in the other direction.
A couple of minutes later, a bus approached him, and Severus watched it pass him by gloomily. The driver didn’t even cast him a glance, a fact that caused Severus’s lips to curl smugly. Muggle area or not, life is so much easier being allowed to use magic whenever you want …
But it was not a solution to his predicament. So, Lucius, Mulciber, or that woman?
He twisted his face. Both of the former would get him in some kind of trouble. That woman might not … Admittedly, that was a huge maybe. He didn’t know anything about her or her motivation. But he could go and listen to what she had to offer before he resorted to Mulciber, right? Might not hurt. As she’d said, she could have long killed or only incapacitated him, so harming him didn’t seem to be her goal.
… I hate my life.
Still, standing up and gripping his trunk, Severus decided to give her a chance. Maybe Jean Cavanagh would surprise him.
Bet that isn’t even her real name, he thought and Apparated to the address she’d given him.
She was in her pyjamas when she opened the door to find a grumpy-looking Severus in front of it, and released a breath to slump a bit when she recognised him. “Should’ve told you not to come past midnight, I guess,” she muttered.
“Yeah, well … Can I stay for a couple of days?”
Her eyebrows twitched. But instead of the scoffed no Severus had expected, she only said, “Sure,” and turned, leaving the door open for him to come in.
Severus stared after her, perplexed, then he blinked out of his surprise. He heaved his trunk into the flat (the Feather-light Charm was waning) and pushed the door closed with a click.
He was standing in a tiny outer room with just enough space for some clothes pegs at one wall, a painting at a second, and the two doors leading out of it. He slipped his shoes off, tossed his cloak over a peg, and followed Cavanagh, who was sleepily waiting for him in a larger room that still wasn’t some kind of room you’d stay in, just another one whose walls were littered with doors.
“Bathroom is there,” she began, pointing at the first, “living room that way, kitchen is off the living room. This is my room, don’t you dare come in uninvited! That one’s yours. Bedclothes are in the wardrobe, have a good night.” And with that, she was gone, disappeared into her bedroom.
“But …” Blinking again, Severus looked after her, still carrying his trunk in front of him to hide the holes in his socks from view. It took him what felt like several minutes to get over what had just happened, then he finally went on and warily opened the door to the room she’d assigned him.
It was simple: bed, nightstand, wardrobe, desk, chair, a picture of a rose on the wall. He wrinkled his nose, but stepped in. The light ignited at a flick of his wand, and leaving his trunk at the door, he went over to flop down on the bed. It was soft, didn’t crack, didn’t squeak.
Will do.