Eileen’s sweet shop in Diagon Alley was much like their home in Spinner’s End.
It was narrow, dimly lit, and simply furnished.
The only place where sunlight managed to shine through the front window fell upon a large glass candy jar, adding the shop’s only splash of color.
Inside the jar were Screaming Sweets, a magical hard candy Eileen had created herself.
They carried a pleasantly sweet-and-sour flavor, and as they slowly dissolved in the mouth, they emitted tiny muffled screams that only the person eating them could hear.
The shelves lining the walls held familiar treats loved by wizarding children.
Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans.
Chocolate Frogs.
Licorice Wands.
A handful of other inexpensive sweets filled the remaining space.
Standing behind the counter, Eileen smiled warmly as she watched Severus stumble out of the emerald flames of the Floo Network.
“Have a piece of candy before you head to work,” she said gently.
“I’m sure Mr.
Flynn won’t mind if you’re a few minutes late.” “All right.” Severus nodded without hesitation.
He reached into the candy jar, picked out a bright green Screaming Sweet, and popped it into his mouth.
Almost immediately, a panicked little scream echoed inside his ears.
The candy vibrated faintly against his tongue, as though it were desperately struggling to avoid being eaten.
A hint of sweetness gradually spread through his mouth.
“I’m off, Mum.” After waving goodbye, Severus slipped into the bustling streets of Diagon Alley under Eileen’s affectionate gaze and headed toward Flynn’s Herb Shop.
The moment he pushed open the shop door, an energetic voice greeted him.
“Oh!
There you are!
My dear Severus, you’ve finally arrived.
Without you, I’d still be buried in work!” “Thank you for the compliment, Mr.
Flynn.” Severus smiled politely.
“I’m just doing my job.” A round-faced wizard poked his head up from the staircase leading to the basement.
Mr.
Flynn had a remarkably plump figure, with a small head perched atop an enormous body, making him look oddly comical.
Yet his cheerful personality made him instantly likable.
“Nonsense!” he laughed, waving both hands dramatically.
“You’re the best assistant I’ve ever hired.
Even plenty of first- and second-year Hogwarts students couldn’t help me as much as you do.” Severus merely smiled before walking toward the basement.
Judging by Mr.
Flynn’s expression, another batch of magical plants had probably become troublesome.
Sure enough, the greenhouse beneath the shop was filled with swollen Puffapods that looked as though they might burst at any moment.
Mr.
Flynn scratched his head awkwardly.
“I was only trying to clean their leaves before opening this morning.
I don’t know what happened, but they’ve become terribly agitated ever since.” Severus didn’t bother commenting.
Instead, he crouched beside the nearest Puffapod and carefully examined it.
After confirming the problem, he gently rested his hand against the swollen pod and slowly stroked it in one direction, as though calming an anxious Kneazle.
Once its swelling gradually subsided, he used his other hand to lightly massage the surrounding leaves in a slow, steady rhythm.
One by one, the restless Puffapods settled down.
Within minutes, every plant had relaxed, their swollen pods shrinking back to normal as they quietly rooted themselves into the soil once again.
Mr.
Flynn stared in amazement.
“Incredible.” His voice instinctively dropped to a whisper, as though afraid of disturbing the plants again.
“I’ve never seen anyone your age handle magical plants so naturally.
Professor Sprout is going to adore you when you start Hogwarts.” “It’s still a long way off,” Severus replied softly.
“Besides, you’re paying me six Galleons a month.
I should be earning that salary.” Originally, because of his age, Severus had only been offered three Galleons a month.
However, after seeing how quickly the boy learned and how naturally he handled magical plants, Mr.
Flynn had doubled his wages without hesitation.
Six Galleons a month was already an excellent income for someone who had not even started Hogwarts.
More importantly, the job offered something money alone could never buy.
Knowledge.
Flynn’s Herb Shop specialized in supplying potion ingredients, and the shelves in the back room contained numerous books on Herbology and magical plants.
Whenever business was slow, Mr.
Flynn patiently shared his own years of experience with Severus.
Thanks to his extraordinary talent, Severus progressed at an astonishing pace.
What would normally take an apprentice several years to master took him barely a month.
The combination of practical experience, constant reading, and daily exposure to magical plants steadily improved his Herbology skills.
The wages also allowed him to save toward purchasing a proper cauldron, second-hand Hogwarts textbooks, and brewing ingredients.
For Severus, it was easily the most worthwhile job he could have found.
The day passed quickly amidst constant work.
He sorted dried herbs, trimmed roots, repotted magical plants, organized inventory, and prepared potion ingredients for customers.
By the time the sun dipped below the rooftops of Diagon Alley, he had just finished grinding the day’s final batch of unicorn horn into a fine powder.
After cleaning his workstation, Severus wiped the sweat from his forehead and bid farewell to Mr.
Flynn.
As he left, he carried a small bundle wrapped in brown paper.
Inside were herbs nearing the end of their freshness.
Rather than throwing them away, Mr.
Flynn always allowed Severus to take them home.
It was one of the job’s unofficial benefits and greatly reduced the cost of his own potion experiments.
Outside, Diagon Alley remained as lively as ever.
Witches and wizards hurried through the cobbled streets in robes of every imaginable color.
Owls swooped overhead carrying letters and parcels.
Shop windows displayed enchanted objects that constantly shifted and sparkled.
The sounds of conversation, laughter, and magic blended together into an atmosphere unlike anywhere else in the world.
Even after seeing it every day for the past three months, Severus still found himself quietly appreciating the vibrant heart of magical Britain.
After returning to Eileen’s sweet shop, he greeted his mother before helping her sell sweets for the remainder of the afternoon.
Only when dusk settled over Diagon Alley did the shop finally close.
Mother and son returned to Spinner’s End through the Floo Network and immediately began preparing dinner.
Once the meal was finished, Severus carried the bundle of herbs upstairs to his small attic room.
He carefully sorted each ingredient according to its storage requirements before pulling a worn textbook from his shelf.
Potions and Elixirs.
The book had obviously belonged to someone who disliked the subject.
The margins were filled with childish doodles, meaningless scribbles, and random ink stains.
Since coming into Severus’s possession, however, those empty spaces had gradually filled with precise notes, improved brewing techniques, ingredient observations, and personal conclusions.
Every page reflected the steady growth of his understanding.
After dinner, Severus chatted casually with Tobias for a while.
Without making it obvious, he guided the conversation away from work frustrations and alcohol, subtly easing the pressure that had built up throughout the day.
Only after Tobias’s mood had visibly improved did Severus excuse himself and return upstairs.
Tonight’s potion brewing could finally begin.
In the wizarding world, Potions was considered one of the most demanding magical disciplines.
Many brews required expensive ingredients, strict temperature control, exact timing, and flawless technique.
Even a tiny mistake could ruin an entire cauldron or produce dangerous consequences.
Those challenges discouraged countless witches and wizards from pursuing mastery.
For Severus, however, things were different.
He possessed the natural talent of the original Severus Snape, amplified further by his own exceptional learning ability.
His understanding of Potions improved at a speed that could only be described as astonishing.
If everything continued according to plan, his future accomplishments in Potions would rival those of the greatest masters in British magical history.
That was precisely why he had begun studying years before receiving his Hogwarts letter.
He had even postponed purchasing his own wand, choosing instead to invest every spare Knut into books, ingredients, and brewing equipment.
Because Severus understood one simple truth.
For a poor family like the Snapes, mastery of Potions represented far more than academic achievement.
It was their greatest opportunity to escape poverty.