"Oh, bloody effin'..."

Daphne stared at the path as if it had somehow managed to offend her. It had taken far too long to find, and the sight of it hadn't cheered her as she'd hoped. Vicious-looking overgrown plants nearly squelched the small, untidy cobblestone path into nonexistence. She almost wished they had. Cobblestones always tripped her up. Pulling out her wand, she cracked her neck and started forward.

Nearly twenty minutes later, she finally stumbled out the end of the ridiculously intricate little path (of doom), coming up a bit short in front of an oddly round building. Straightening up, and brushing the loose plant-life away from her newly disheveled self, she took stock of her surroundings. Dark stone, somber wood, no windows or lights, no happy little "Come In, We're Open" sign to reassure her that she was, in fact, welcome. She itched to roll her eyes at her former professor's pseudo-gothic decor, but decided against it. The man had eyes everywhere. It would be better to wait until after he'd (possibly) hired her... Then irritate him beyond all reason. Schooling her features into a polite haughtiness, she opened the door and walked inside.

It was almost maddeningly dark. She considered a quick spell to lighten the place up a bit, but decided against it. The dreariness reminded her of the dungeons back at school... It was sort of comforting, actually. But rather than feeling along the walls and hoping for the best, she paused to allow her eyes to adjust. When she opened them, she grinned.

"And here, I thought shops were supposed to be open and inviting..." Easing into the apothecary, she inhaled deeply, enjoying the familiar scents that surrounded her. She could detect a few faint unfamiliarities somewhere off to her left, and decided to have a look around. She was a few minutes early, after all.

Severus Snape was in his laboratory in the back of the apothecary, stirring his latest concoction, a potion he hoped would prove to be effective in stopping the pain of the Cruciatus curse. He had been working on modifying a basic pain potion, but so far he had not been successful. He heard the front door open and light footsteps enter. Stirring the potion once more, he lowered the flame level and left it to simmer. After washing his hands, he stepped silently into the shop, robes billowing around him. His eyes swept the room and came to light upon the young Daphne Greengrass who had come to apply for the job he'd advertised. He watched as she moved from shelf to shelf, her eyes lighting as she recognized different potions and mouthed the ingredients. A woman after his own heart, he mused.

"You found the shop alright, I presume, Miss Greengrass?" A smirk played on his face, and he watched in secret delight as she jumped a bit at his unexpected interruption of her inspection of his shop.

Daphne silently cursed herself for starting at his approach. She should have been listening for him. Sneaky bastard, she thought. She forced herself to straighten up smoothly before she turned to face him. She noticed the slight smirk on his face and relaxed. She almost rolled her eyes again, but caught herself just in time. She ignored his question, desperate to steer clear of the sort of drivel that such small talk usually led to. And she was still slightly wary of interviewing with the man. There was no telling what sort of things he might ask her. Instead, she allowed her curiosity to lead the conversation. She gestured towards a small square bottle full of...what appeared to be tiny dead leaves.

"Are these dried firefly wings? Because if they are, I desperately want some. The Ministry won't spring for them, and I can't stand plucking them of the tiny little buggers." She frowned slightly before muttering to herself, "Their tiny little lights go out, and they aren't even dead. Damned foppy, if you ask me."

"Indeed," Severus mused, "If you are the one I hire, you would have little shortage of such rudimentary ingredients."

He gestured for her to enter his back room, and followed her in. He looked at the lab as if for the first time. It was dark, but comforting, the soft glow of the fire under the simmering cauldron casting long shadows. He sighed, smelling that the potion was yet again, not correct. He diminished the fire and cleaned the cauldron with a quick flick of his wand, and then lit his lanterns, giving the room a comforting warmth that belied how many had seen him. He pulled out a chair for Daphne and sat down across from her.

Folding his hands together as if in prayer and resting his chin upon his hands, he looked her in the eye. Just long enough to make her start to squirm out of the sheer intensity of his gaze.

"Speak."

Daphne's nose scrunched up a bit in mild confusion. Speak? Speak what? What the hell does he want me to say?, she wondered. She straightened in her seat, laying her forearms down along the arms of the chair, and gripped the ends. She took a slow breath and forced herself to relax. If she allowed herself to fall back into the old professor/student routine, she'd never be able to work with the man. She was an adult in her own right, and quite skilled at what she did. She needed to remember that. Loosening her grip on the chair, she opened her mouth and hoped for the best.

"I've been doing freelance work for the last few years, most of it for the Ministry, due to an unfortunate lack of independently wealthy potion-seekers. The Ministry, as it turns out, is run by mental deficients. They underbudget, they set ridiculous deadlines, they refuse to allow me the use of any of the more..." She searched for an appropriately subtle word. "...Delicate ingredients, and they have yet to ask for anything even remotely challenging. And, frankly, they bother me." She paused for a moment before coming to a subconscious decision. The next words out of her mouth surprised her. "I've decided to reject any further solicitations from the Ministry. I want to do my own research and work on potions of my own design. I believe that if you hire me, I will have the opportunity to do so."

Crossing her arms just under her breasts (a little trick she enjoyed playing on men), she cocked an eyebrow at her former professor to let him know that she was done speaking. Either this would work out, or it would go very, very wrong. She hoped for the former and waited for his reply.

Severus had been lightly using Legilimency, so as not to be detected while she spoke. He found no dishonesty in her speech, although he had seen her ploy coming, and thus keenly avoided looking at her chest. Business, Severus, business.

"Miss Greengrass, did you even read the advertisement I placed?" He spoke clearly, as if enunciating for a small child. He knew full well of her capabilities, having taught her himself, but was not prepared to merely hand her the job on a silver platter. "I believe, and correct me if I am mistaken, that it was a job for a shopkeep, not an apprentice. I do not need to know of your pathetic potions for the Ministry, I need to know of your ability to interact with people. Yes, if you were hired, you would be provided with your choice in ingredients and we could perhaps negotiate lab time... But you have come with a lot of ideas of what this job can do for you."

He settled back in his chair and waved a hand at her, "Care to try again?"

Daphne finally threw caution to the wind and rolled her eyes. Ignore my breasts, will you? Fine. We'll play it straight, then. Huffing lightly, she uncrossed her arms and leaned forward in irritation. "Right. I'm not going to waste time trying to impress you, and I'm certainly not going to play lapdog. You want me to interact with people? I can do that. I can absolutely do that." She leaned back once more and smirked. "I managed to put up with you for seven years, didn't I?" His face remained impassive, but she took it as a good sign. At least he wasn't threatening her with physical harm.

"Look," she continued. "While I may not be the most popular witch, or the most well-liked, I'm certainly not at the top of anyone's death list. I happen to be very, very good at going unnoticed when I wish to. I don't think you want customer interaction. You couldn't care less about your customers, or you'd have made more of an effort to attract some. I think you want customer information. And I can be very persuasive when I put my mind to it."

Except with you, apparently, she thought rather crossly.

Severus broke out laughing, a deep low chuckle, her irritation was very becoming, and he was genuinely amused. He waited a moment, watching her to see if her irritation ebbed or increased. Perhaps, if his other two applicants were as amusing as Daphne had proven to be, he would hire the lot and have her assist in the actual potion making. It was a thought. Finally, he spoke again.

"Congratulations. When would you like to start?"

Daphne smiled, relief just barely coloring her face. "Immediately."




{Summary} Daphne interviews with Snape.