The summer had turned Spinner's end into a street livelier than usual. The sound of the cotton mills comfortably reached around the street corner. It had been nine years since the Battle of Hogwarts and the culmination of the Second Wizarding War. Peace had brought industry to even remote places like Coketown, England. The identical brick houses which had been dilapidated, were now gradually being refurbished. With more people coming into the town every month, old generational families were returning to claim their estates. A mayor had been appointed and the dirty river had been dredged and cleaned- a task that took the better part of a year.

          Master potioneer Severus Snape reclined on his chesterfield armchair, observing a framed picture- a young girl of not more than fifteen years waved at him again and again. She had dark red hair that cascaded to her shoulders, and she was in robes of scarlet and gold.

          The room had several tall bookshelves which manned the walls. The threadbare furniture of a decade ago had been replaced by burnished antiques, which under the light of aesthetically-placed muggle lamps, lent some refinement to the otherwise diminutive chamber.

          "Severus!" An advancing voice called from the adjoining room. It had a husky drawl that carried both urgency and warmth.

          Snape wiped the picture against his robe and proceeded to place it on the mantelpiece, beside other pictures of comparable sizes. Another frame contained the grim faces of his parents, Tobias and Eileen Snape, now deceased. Beside the pictures was a somewhat peculiar cup, shaped like a phoenix- a mementos of an Order, formed during times of turmoil. The lone wizard's frown deepened, as he was reminded of misadventures of the past.

         "Severus!"

         "I am right here, Remus!"

         A tall, pale man entered through the living room passage. His wizard robes were shabby and patched at places. But Lupin had seen worse days. He handed over an envelope to Snape.

         "It is from the Ministry."

         Snape found his letter-opener, snipped the envelope open, read the contents of the letter expeditiously without emotion, and threw the lot into the fireplace. Lupin was accustomed to this ritual, and hence offered no comment. Even after several years of close acquaintance, Snape was an enigma to him- silent in his habits and inscrutable with his emotions. Besides, Lupin was not the curious kind. He went on about the concerns that affected him presently. Their joint venture, The Quintessential Potions and Alchemical Shop, which could be accessed by a secret passage near the town square, would be unmanned that day.

         "I will be away later today, visiting the Potters in Godric's Hollow-

         "The Potters?" Snape probed.

         "Harry and Ginny Potter, and their little cherubs, if you haven't forgotten the lot."

         "I know very well, who the Potters are, Remus. I was momentarily non-plussed as to why they would invite a werewolf to their safe lodgings. It is a full moon day. You would be staying the night, I presume?"

         Lupin stared in discomfort at Snape's face, trying to gather the cause of his displeasure. Was he upset or relieved that he wasn't invited? He was boorish with his words for both of these sentiments. Not that he ever responded to any social invitations in the first place.

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         "That was a tad harsh, Severus. I have a healthy stock of your potent wolfsbane. And part of the visit is to educate the young potters about werewolf transformation. Apparently, Miss Chiara Lobosca, who is professionally involved in spreading werewolf awareness in the magical community, was unavailable tonight. As a dutiful grand-uncle, I have decided to step up."

         Lupin spoke, facing away from Snape, to avoid his disapproving glance. As the latter made no comment, he continued.

         "Which reminds me of the concern that we need someone to run the Potions shop this afternoon. You will be leaving for your conference presently, yes?

         "It is not my conference, Remus, it is the International Alchemical Conference. Held once in ten years. I will be presenting my curated integrum potion which reduces splinching by a high degree during disapparition. Even a drunk third-rate wizard would be able to disapparate or apparate without losing, even his eyebrows."

         For some reason, Lupin imagined a wizard who looked like Ron Weasley, losing his eyebrows while disapparating.

         "My only qualm is," Snape added, "the venue. A far off city like Cairo. I cannot stomach the heat. There are limitations on what atmospheric spells can achieve."

         "Very well then, shall I find a lad from the cotton mills to man the shop?", Lupin suggested.

         "Remus, the last time we confunded a muggle to run the potions shop, my glassware cabinet was wrecked and some very expensive potions were sold off for a few sickles."

         "Of course I remember that day. But there is this lad I met last week, who works as a winder in the mills- Bob Rivers- he is- uh- a- squib. And is very gentle and meticulous around potions and fragile vessels. I can hire him for the afternoon."

         Severus glimpsed at his pocketwatch, and nodded without listening.

         "Go ahead. We are all sorted then. The portkey to France will activate at 9 o' clock at London Bridge. And then I have to route through another one at Paris, to Cairo. I must make haste."

         The Master Potioneer walked out of the brick-row house, leaving his unsatisfied partner to tend to matters of the shop. Once outside, Snape looked to either side of the street, making sure no muggle eyes were on him, and disapparated in a splat.

         There was indeed a portkey to France that day, at London bridge, as Snape had explained, but it was to activate at noon. Snape had three hours to spare before he needed to reach the scheduled portkey, and he had his reasons to lie to his trusted aide. The contents of the ministry letter directed him towards another task of utmost urgency. The letter read as follows-

Dear Mr. Severus Snape,                       

We have received reliable intelligence that a dark witch who goes by the name Ursula, infamously known as the Nettle Witch, has been harassing good families in East London. She has mysteriously eluded the reach of our aurors. You are tasked with finding and placing her under arrest until a Ministry official relieves you. Upon successful completion, a generous stipend, and the gratitude of the Ministry of Magic shall be owed to you. For the purpose of this task, you shall be granted the rank of 'Honorarium Aequipollens Aurorus (Honorary Equivalent Auror). Private agents of the Ministry have been dispatched to the location mentioned in the letter, to aid you in your undertaking. You are not to divulge the contents of this letter to any soul unrelated to the task, under any circumstance.

Harry Potter                                        

Head Auror

AUROR OFFICE                         

DEPARTMENT OF MAGICAL LAW ENFORCEMENT Ministry of Magic

P.S.: Location of rendezvous- Carnaby Street, Westminster. A court bereft of a King.

P.P.S.: I hope you are doing well. Your once-students, now in the Ministry, send their regards.