Archive of Our Own

Between the hours of too late and too early, Knockturn Alley came alive. It was during this separation of night and morn that, in the dingiest and darkest corner, a light was lit behind cloudy windows. A shrouded figure, no taller than four and a half feet, swished about, their charcoal cloak dragging along the wooden floors.

All around them were unopened crates, some reeking with the stench of death, and others with the smell of spices. Across these fell white drapes, flowing seamlessly despite the lack of draft. It was behind these that oddities lay, not yet ready to be seen.

The figure swept about, finding each their own place, stocking shelves and cleaning grime. By the time dawn had arrived, a sign was left in the window for all to see.

Open.

It was with unexpected swiftness that word reached along Knockturn Alley – an unheard-of shop, only opened a few days prior, was taking the potion’s community by quite the storm. Severus only knew the barest of details pertaining to it, but figured the rumors to be just that: rumors. No wizard in their right mind would trust another’s advice of ‘there’s a store in the furthest, darkest parts of Knockturn, and you should take a looksie at it’. It would be reckless, and not to mention stupid. Severus was anything but.

He had heard it all before. Shops that were said to sell the rarest of potion’s ingredients for ludicrous pricings, but they were hell to find. Severus would not fall for such drivel, and much to his chagrin, there was quite the amassment of these ‘Legendary Sellers’. If he had dismissed the newest rumor as one, then it was only through logical analysis.

And yet, the commotion did not desist. Instead, it grew, and festered, until it was known to even wizards and witches who hadn’t once set foot in Knockturn. Severus was intrigued, despite himself, and yet couldn’t find the time to investigate the matter himself.

Albus was working him to the bone with his searches for the lost Girl Who Lived. The entire debacle had to be kept under wraps, lest the British magical community fall into hysteria. Therefore, Severus was working especially hard to not only pinpoint an – extremely hard to find, might he add – Henrietta Potter, but also keep the Order in, well, order.

It was a demanding job, but Severus was nothing if not capable.

Therefore, it wasn’t much a surprise that he was able to find time in-between all the chaos to look into his curious, perhaps not as falsified as he thought, shop. He would never have put as much effort into getting the time to do so if it wasn’t for the bit of news he had picked up on not but a fortnight after first hearing the store’s existence.

Two weeks – only two weeks had passed, and yet the fabled potion’s supply store had already vacated their previous position and took up another, this time much, much closer to Diagon Alley. It was almost unheard of, more so than the shop’s sudden and overwhelming customer influx, and it caught Severus’ attention.

It was thus decided that Euclid’s Elements merited a visit.

And wasn’t that something? A potion’s supply shop, a magically founded establishment, was named after a muggle mathematician’s work. Severus found the irony amusing, if not only because it went unnoticed by some of the most zealous of pureblood fanatics. The backlash it would cause if word spread to the wrong witch or wizard… He would keep that in mind.

The front of the store was odd in appearance. A sign hung just outside the door, with Euclid’s Elements embellished across the front, and Seller of All Things Deceased writ across the back. Severus felt there was some meaning to the specificity of the motto, but forewent the thought in favor of studying what he could make out of the shop through the windows.

Carcasses hanging from metal hooks were on display, kept from decaying by some form of magic, and Devil’s Snare kept in pots beneath. The owner was indeed a strange one. From what he could see past that, there were shelves upon shelves of all sorts of ingredients, a good many being from creatures.

Severus decided it was time to enter instead of continuing to gawk distastefully. The door chimed when he opened it, signaling his entrance, and yet there was no greeting. Not liked for its service, then, noted Severus.

The closest shelf held an assortment of lower classed beasts’ parts. He inspected the quality and found it met his criteria spectacularly, if not for a few minor mistakes. The next shelf was much the same, if not for having some of the harder to procure correctly parts. Severus was adequately pleased with the value of the products, especially for a store that was once situated in Knockturn’s worse areas.

It certainly wasn’t impressive in any way, though. Not enough to justify the reaction it garnered. Was there some political play behind their sudden infamy?

“Are you looking for something in particular?” asked a voice from behind Severus. He spun around to face this stranger who had snuck up on him. A child, it appeared from their height, donning a dark grey cloak that hindered his view of their face.

“No,” he answered, tone carefully devoid of intonation. “I am only perusing. Are you perhaps the owner?” Severus had heard, although not taken to heart, that Euclid’s Elements was run by a short, cloaked figure. Was this the same person?

The hooded head tilted minutely to the right. “Why yes, I am. You may refer to me as you like. Many of my customers follow the presumption that my name is Euclid.” A pause. “Perusing, you say? How would you like to see some of my more… interesting goods?”

So this is what wrought its fame. Might they be storing and selling illegal products, kept in the back? Or was this a ploy to catch him unawares?

Severus nodded despite himself.

“Wonderful,” spoke the nameless owner. Severus found himself unable to decipher the gender of the voice; one moment it was feminine, and the next, masculine. A charm, then, he decided. As he was led to the other side of the, surprisingly large, store, the owner – Euclid, Severus elected, if only to have something to refer to them as – spoke once more. “I noticed your inspection of my products. Did you find any faults?” The question was not asked with arrogance, but genuine curiosity. Severus replied with honesty.

“The quality was superb, if not for a few minor mistakes –,”

“Such as?”

“Such as the slight incision marks along the very ends. I realized that muggle methods were likely applied, which retain a substantially greater amount of magic than through other means. However, this method affects the quality of appearance.” Euclid listened with rapt attention, surprising Severus. Most by now would be spitting and frothing at the mouth, defending their goods. “It’s not a frequent practice because of this notable difficulty; however, I found your products to be of the highest quality yet when applying these methods.”

Euclid was silent, then said, “Thank you. I will take this into consideration.” With a swipe of their hand, they gestured to a new line of products. “These are some of the harder to attain goods.” A bottle of white, nearly translucent, hair was raised. “Demiguise hair.” They lifted a sheering of skin. “Centaur flesh.” A frozen, ovular egg was shown next, and Severus recognized it. “Ashwinder egg. I have both shells and fertilized in stock.”

Their reputation was not baseless, then. Severus studied the remaining goods before addressing Euclid. “Many of these are not typical potions ingredients.” The ones that were, however, were valuable.

“This is not a potions’ supply shop,” Euclid replied.

“Then what might it be?”

“Why, did you not read the sign? Euclid’s Elements, Seller of All Things Deceased.”

Severus paused, then asked, “Do you mean to say that your specialization is… the deceased? Carcasses, corpses?” If that was true, then it would make sense. Many of what they sold were certainly not potions ingredients, or at least not yet. Severus was tempted to experiment with quite a few.

“Indeed,” responded Euclid. “I still keep an inventory of herbs and the occasional oddity, however, my main supply is, to put it frankly, dead things.”

“Interesting,” muttered Severus. Perhaps there was promise in Euclid’s Elements. “I think I’ll purchase…”

Severus hadn’t expected to see an article about Euclid’s Elements in the newest edition of The Practical Potioneer. It wasn’t printed across the cover or made especially prominent, but was still long enough to span two whole pages. Two entire pages of positive appraisal from none other than the magazine’s most highly acclaimed, and harshly critical, evaluator. Severus was impressed. And terribly confused.

Despite The Practical Potioneer’s neutral status, it never endorsed Knockturn Alley businesses, and Euclid’s Elements was undeniably a part of Knockturn Alley.

Or, perhaps no longer so.

… Located just across from Ollivander’s wand shop, Euclid’s Elements is a must for innovative potioneers and potion’s masters. The plethora of high quality, rare, and otherwise obscure ingredients are without a doubt the best on the market…

It hadn’t been more than a fortnight since their newest shop opened. Severus hadn’t returned since his first – and also last – visit, bogged down by both the ongoing search and his usual business. Had it already been that long? His trip to South England had been unsuccessful; he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the missing Girl Who Lived. Where would Albus send him next? Liverpool? East Scotland? China?

Speak of the Devil, thought Severus. A roaring, emerald flame erupted in his fireplace. From within the flames, which sparked and licked their brick encasement, Albus’ head appeared. And he shall appear, finished Severus, looking at Albus with exasperation.

“Severus,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips. “Are you currently busy?” Obviously not, he thought, since I am not out on one of your missions nor working on a potion. So, yes, you have found me during one of my rare moments of free time.

However, all Severus replied was, “No, and I am assuming you would like me to floo to your office?” Albus’ eyes twinkled, and he nodded.

“Just as you so aptly surmised,” he said. “There is a matter of which I would like to discuss… oh, yes, bring your Practical Potioneer with you as well,” he added, and then disappeared from view. Severus sighed, running a pale hand across his face, but nonetheless gathering his magazine and walking into the flames.

Albus was pacing his office, in a way that meant he had stumbled across something thought invigorating. A clue to the missing Girl Who Lived’s whereabouts, then? His brows were furrowed slightly, and a hand running through his ever-growing beard. When he spotted Severus – hair disheveled, ash staining his robes, and shadows under his eyes – his expression shifted from eagerness to concern.

“My dear boy, are you ill?” he asked, and goodness, Severus hadn’t been sick in a long, long time but did he feel it now. His back ached and eyes felt too dry, but pushed through. Albus was aware of this, as he was of most everything – the one thing he wasn’t was Henrietta Potter’s location – and told him, “You need rest. I’ll have Kingsley take your role – do not argue with me, Severus; you’re clearly stressed – and instead will have you do me a favor.”

He paused, picking up a roll of parchment, then dropped it into a stack of others. “You see,” said Albus, “I have heard certain rumors. Some of a new business, one with exciting potential that has the potions community hooked; and others of a potions supply shop, one that started in the dredges of Knockturn Alley and quickly worked their way up to Diagon Alley. Now, tell me, which of these is the truth?”

“Both,” replied Severus. “Which you already know.” Albus was exasperating like that.

“Indeed,” he said. “However, it bothers me – surely you have heard the rumors of the owner? Short, almost child-like in stature; their voice is spelled to be unidentifiable?”

“Not just rumors,” said Severus. “I’ve met them.”

Albus looked to him with surprise. “You have seen – no, spoken with – Euclid?” he asked, seemingly unexpecting of such a development. Severus nodded.

“Yes, and I must agree that they appear almost juvenile in appearance, as far as can be told through their cloak, that is. What importance does this have?”

Albus was shaking his head, then stopped to face Severus. “I – no, it’s too early to formulate suspicions. However, my favor entails you keeping a close eye on both Euclid and his or her shop, and to tell or bring to me anything which you deem noteworthy.”

“And what might be considered ‘noteworthy’?” Severus drawled, stance relaxing minutely. He had worried that – he wasn’t sure what he had worried, truth be told. Something had bothered him with the way Albus was acting, that was for certain.

A hum, then: “You will know when you see it. And for information, simply report updates on anything unusual or out of the norm.” That was descriptive and not at all vague, thought Severus. Albus tapped his chin. “What do you know of this Euclid character?”

Severus dipped his head, black hair falling in a curtain across his face. “Their name is not truly Euclid. It’s a moniker given to them by their customers who hadn’t recognized the reference in the shop’s name.”

“Reference?” asked Albus, appearing interested. “I hadn’t thought the name special.”

“It’s not obvious,” started Severus, slowly, testing his words. “It’s a muggle book – or should I say collection of – that pertains to Geometry, a form of math.” Albus nodded, gesturing for him to continue. “It’s an older, and fairly well known, text book that was originally written in Greek, called Elements, written by a man named Euclid. It includes topics such as plane geometry and axioms and so on. None of the pureblooded families have yet to recognize it, and I doubt they will without outside help.”  

“Interesting,” said Albus. “And the reason behind which they chose this?” Severus nearly sighed.

“Unknown. Likely an inside joke or for no reason at all.”

“I think not.” Albus stroked his beard, once again pensive. “After all, everything is connected in some way or another.” Of course he would believe something as absurd as that. This was Albus – Severus would not say all those names – Dumbledore. He was made to infuriate, what with his lurid garments and nonsensical behaviors.

“I would like to take a look at your memory of meeting Euclid, if you would be so willing,” he said, and yes, Severus did sigh, then.

The storefront appeared innocuous, strikingly different than their Knockturn Alley establishment, and yet kept the same atmosphere about it. Plant boxes lined the underside of the windows, not with Devil’s Snare but their harmless counterpart, Flitterbloom. The displays that could be seen were drastically less gruesome, and yet not completely foregone. It was, after all, a store which sold corpses – or parts of them.

Euclid was capable of adapting to what the public wanted to see, then, thought Severus. Knockturn Alley allowed for darker aspects to be out in the open, and Diagon Alley did not. Euclid’s Elements was able to meet both standards, and easily at that. Albus would want to know just what changes were made, and what darker products their Knockturn store sold that their Diagon couldn’t.

Severus was certain that questionably procured items such as the Centaur flesh – something from an intelligent race – would not be sold here. Unless, of course, it could be explained in a way that appeased the public. Sadly, the magical community of Britain wasn’t the smartest group of people, and would likely believe whatever lie they crafted.

That brought forth the question of “Why?”

Why open a second – third? – store in a distinctly light oriented shopping district? Was it for the money, the opportunity to increase their customer count? Or was there some other, more devious, reason?

Severus went inside.

As he had noticed from the outside, the inside was bustling with people. From your everyday wizard or witch to renowned potions masters, they could be found perusing through the stocks. Severus almost wished he had gone at a less busy time, and yet it also made for good cover. From within the throngs of customers, Severus was indistinguishable, even as he appraised the store with more than just a curious eye.

He immediately took notice of the shrouded figure at the counter, and was surprised to see that it was not Euclid. It seemed that with the growing business, Euclid found need for an extra set of hands. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, and yet, Severus found himself thinking that Euclid didn’t seem the type to work with others. Interesting.

The figure at the counter was of average height for an adult male, or a particularly tall female. Their cloak was of the same make as Euclid’s, charcoal grey and completely covering. Not even a hint of skin could be seen. They did not speak, not even to questing customers, but did give help when asked. It was intriguing, to Severus at the very least, because their motions almost seemed robotic. Inhuman.

Whilst Severus studied the shrouded wizard or witch – perhaps they were not human? – their hood turned to face his general direction. It was for the rest of his stay that they watched him with unerring keenness. He left quite quickly after that.

The next visit had been but a few days later. Severus found his stocks in certain ingredients low, and found it to be the perfect excuse to visit the enigmatic store once again. There hadn’t been as much of a crowd as the previous time, but it was still quite busy in Euclid’s Elements. The counter was still manned by the cloaked figure from before, or as far as Severus could tell, it wasn’t different person. It was difficult to tell when they did not speak nor show their face. The body shape was similar, however, and so he figured it wasn’t farfetched to believe it to be the same person.

Severus kept from staring, that time.

“And you haven’t a clue who it might be?” asked Albus. The answer was, that no, he didn’t. Nobody knew for certain who worked for Euclid. It seemed that during the time it took to open a shop in Diagon, that Euclid hadn’t returned to Knockturn Alley, instead having another cloaked figure take their place in running the store. It was baffling, to say the least, and Euclid still had yet to reappear.

The mystery of both Euclid and their employees’ identities had sparked further interest in Euclid’s Elements. Some of the customers came purely out of the need to investigate. Rumors were running amok, spread by conspiracy theorists (and unhelpfully encouraged by The Quibbler), of all sorts of ludicrous ideas. Some stated that Euclid was a muggle intent on taking over the wizarding world through economical tyranny. Others said that Euclid was in fact the Dark Lord, and the cloaked tenants at the counters were his Death Eaters. They only became more nonsensical further down the line.

Albus was both amused and skeptical. “There’s always a nugget of truth in these sorts of tales,” he had told Severus. Severus thought it was just his way of giving plausible deniability to if, or when, the truth was revealed and the conspiracy theorists reigned supreme. Of course, Albus himself was of the idea that Euclid was someone, or something, to keep an eye on. Severus could not argue with that.

While many did not believe these rumors – for good reason – there was also a large group that did. Therefore, Severus was not overly surprised when a fight broke out in Euclid’s Elements. It was an event which Severus was not there to witness in person, but had heard enough of to become interested. With a little digging, he had viewed the scene play out from another’s leglimized memory.

“There’s no use hiding it now!” yelled a scruffy wizard, wand pointed towards the cloaked employee. “Everybody knows what you are – Dark!” Customers began to both crowd the scene and back away. The man – brown hair, brown eyes, scar under his left eye – gripped his wand tighter, teeth gritting. It was just as he went to spit a spell – a curse, jinx, no one would know – that the cloaked figure moved.

It was a one-sided fight. The figure was swift, decisive, and fierce – taking down the armed wizard with but a single hit. Onlookers screamed, watching with disturbed fascination. The man slumped to the floor, knocked unconscious, and was left there. The cloaked figure returned to their position at the counter, unaffected.

Aurors had investigated into the matter and found that, with help of bystanders’ accounts, that the wizard had been the instigator. Any inquiries involving the establishment were mysteriously dropped.

The next instance of notability was one Severus was, in fact, witness to; and a good thing that was.

It hadn’t been too long after the first fight. Perhaps it had been motivated by what had occurred, or was just something built up to. Either way, curiosity had been peaked over the cloaked figure’s identity. Many were under the assumption that they were Euclid, but most knew better. It wasn’t a surprise, then, that someone would attempt to find out for their self; whether it be through intensive investigation or brute force. There would always be someone who attempt the latter, sadly, and that is just what Severus had been witness to.

He had been studying the common products – their quality had improved greatly since when Severus first appraised them. It was by chance – beautiful, glorious luck – that Severus had turned at just the right moment to see a young man reach from behind the clerk and pull back their hood. It had been intriguing to find that their hood had not been spelled to stay covering their face, but then again, the next moment’s events had been even more thought-provoking.

The hood was roughly pulled back, and immediately the rest of the cloak – and figure – disintegrated. Many gasps were heard, and the wizard who had been the cause of the phenomenon had backed into a wall, hands raised.

“I didn’t know that would happen,” he stated with wide-eyed honesty.

“They’re not human,” said Albus, in response to Severus’ report. “I would say that they’re puppets rather than actual living beings. However,” he had paused, a consternated expression darkening his visage, “Without substantial remains – because what had been of these puppets turned to ash and vanished – we cannot be certain of their nature. Are they Dark? A type of inferius? Something else altogether?”

He had shaken his head. “There is no way to tell – not now. The public does not want to believe that there is possible danger lurking about, hiding beneath their noses. They’ve been lulled into complacency. I am sure that this will attract negative press, but from what we have seen so far, Euclid is more than capable of reeling in the public once more.”

Albus’ words had rung true. The Daily Prophet had immediately printed off every paper with Euclid’s Elements on the front, with various theories proposed. It had also been remarked upon that a new clerk had taken the place of the previous one, not but a day later. Rita Skeeter had dubbed these shrouded figures as ‘Euclid’s Element’s Cloaked Marionettes’. The public had seemed fearful of these ‘Marionettes’, avoiding Euclid’s Element’s and speaking of them in hushed whispers.

Word eventually made its way around, however, that these Marionettes were no more dangerous than the average wizard or witch. Their job was to man the store, and they did so. If one asked for help finding an item, they would oblige. If someone were to steal goods or attack within the store, then the Marionettes would deal with the problem swiftly and efficiently.

Many businesses within the vicinity soon became enamored with the idea of the Marionettes, and yet none could figure out just what they were. They were wanted for their capabilities and lack of need for a salary, but could not be attained. They had first appeared in Euclid’s Elements, and there they would remain. Euclid was unable to be reached for comment on the matter, and it was soon realized that the secret behind the Marionettes would not be shared, not even for the hefty prices some were willing to pay.

Customers were once again flowing back in, still wary, and slightly suspicious, of the Marionettes, but not as frightened as they were in the beginning. The Marionettes were efficient at their jobs, and soon became another of Euclid’s Element’s mysteries.

Severus found the Marionettes to be concerning. Especially since, when he peered from the corner of his vision, he was certain they were watching him.

News had spread that a Euclid’s Elements had cropped up in Germany. There were murmurings of one in France, but it still had yet to be confirmed. Severus felt that, despite only hearing of it in rumors, there likely was one in France. Euclid had a habit of inciting rumors that typically rung true.

It was strange, however, to hear that the shop purportedly seen in France was abandoned merely a few days after being set up. Another rumor began, then, that there was a shop sighted in Greece, no more than a fortnight after the one in France’s closing. Again, it closed in a matter of days. Something sketchy was occurring, and Albus was growing tense.

“With some outside help, I have been able to retrieve the location of Euclid’s France setup,” said Albus, having called Severus up for a meeting. “It’s abandoned now, as you may have heard. However, from what I understand, the building still stands – vacated, but still under Euclid’s name.” He looked to Severus, elbows propped on his desk, palms clasped and fingers knitted. “I want you to investigate it. There may not be anything of significance to find there, but…” Albus frowned, brows furrowing. With a shake of the head, and a weary sigh, he said, “I fear I am looking in the wrong direction.”

Severus felt confused, but did not show it. Something bothered him about this whole situation. What was Albus thinking?

Euclid’s Elements – sometimes shortened to Euclid’s, or just Elements, now – was popping up all across the map. There were ones that were permanent, such as the Knockturn Alley, Diagon Alley, and Germany establishments; and then there were the temporary installments, that were random and kept on the down low. Some of Euclid’s more fanatic followers would travel across the world to be there when these temporary stores appeared. It was said that Euclid theirself ran these – and that the products sold were not their normal goods, but ones of unheard of value; absurd things like Sphinx heads, Thestral bones, and preserved Occamy.

The idea of attending one of these ‘Hidden Elements’ as they were called was tempting to Severus. However, they were notoriously hard to find, and by the time one could track it down, it will have already closed shop. It was debated whether Euclid would return to previous spots in the near future, or continue to move about. Severus hoped for the former, if only to make his job easier.

He didn’t know what to expect from the coordinates Albus had given him. It was a warehouse, seemingly abandoned, with not much left behind inside. There were a few crates that he looked through and found nothing of interest in. No forgotten goods, no loose papers or even footprints in the dust. Severus had nearly decided to tell Albus that nothing of interest was to be found, and was walking out the door, when he spotted it. Small, almost unnoticeable if one was not looking for it, was a symbol etched into the groove of the entrance. A squiggled line, similar in shape to the Sowilo rune, but with a slight curve at the top.

“A carving?” Albus smoothed his beard thoughtfully. He peered at the symbol once more. Then, as Severus expected, he said, “It would be beneficial if you could find a way into one of these ‘Hidden Elements’. I suspect that we will find much more there.” And that was that.

Severus spent weeks, months, looking for a lead on how to go about finding Hidden Elements. He was careful with whom he asked, aware the subject was something not commonly known. The moniker ‘Hidden Elements’ hadn’t come about by coincidence, after all. They were kept on the down low, a sort of rarity that was sought after by only the most devoted of customers.

Or, in his case, the most devoted to uncovering Euclid’s secrets.

It was during one of Severus’ routine runs of Knockturn Alley that he happened across an interesting altercation. A wizard and witch, squabbling over what appeared to be silver coins. The wizard, around Severus’ age in appearance, had stringy, light brown hair that framed his face. His arm was raised, keeping the silver coin from the witch’s reach as he hissed under his breath at her. The witch – shoulder length, wispy black hair and dark skin, one of her sleeves ripped – was glaring at the man, her own fists clenched at her sides.

Severus crept closer to the two, a spell washing over him to keep his presence hidden. The woman was speaking, octave steadily rising with her anger.

“No, no, no – you can’t just – you’re an idiot, Mateo,” she spat. “You know the rules! I’m not letting you –,”

“Don’t, Cherie,” he interrupted. “I know what I’m doing – I won’t get caught.” A pause. “You know I need the money, and these things will sell for – Merlin, what was it?”

“Mateo, I’m not going to let you get yourself killed over something as stupid as money,” said the woman – Cherie? – “If this is because of your addiction, I swear to –,”

“Salazar, no,” exhaled Mateo. “I got off that shit ages ago. It ruined me, I’m not… no, it’s not because of that.” He shifted, his arm no longer raised, but by his side.

“Then what is it? Do you owe someone?” asked Cherie. “Because I will tear them a new one if –,”

“Cherie, please,” said Mateo. “I haven’t made any debts. Yet, anyways,” he tacked on. “I just want – I want my reputation back. Living like this – as a nobody – it’s killing me. And I thought, maybe, if I sold the stater –,”

“Shhh!” hushed Cherie, a look of panic crossing her face. Her head swiveled around, glancing for eavesdroppers. Severus subtly leaned in, interest peaked. “You know not to speak of it where others could hear you!” she hissed.

“Gallopin’ Gorgons, Cherie,” muttered Mateo, “You needn’t be so worried; no one is here but us. And it’s just the stater – not as if anyone will have any idea what I’m talking about.”

“But that’s just it –,” her fist was held up, silver coin pinched between her fingers, “– these are Euclid’s, Mateo. You can’t just go waving them about like some sort of – sort of… toy!”

Euclid. Euclid’s, she had said. Severus was beside himself with anticipation. This is what he had been waiting for, searching for – and now –

“Let’s go, Mateo,” said Cherie, arm dropping.

“I don’t think so,” Severus spoke, dropping his disillusionment. The witch gasped, fumbling to grasp her wand, whilst the wizard’s – Mateo’s – arm shot up, wand tip aimed at Severus. With a flick of his wand, and a firm, “Expelliarmus!” he had disarmed the man. The witch shot a hex, which Severus then countered, before he disarmed her as well.

“Now… What are these ‘stater’ and how are they connected to Euclid?” he asked, a dark grin forming across his face.

The witch’s – Cherie’s – fists clenched at her sides, and she looked ready to spit fire. Mateo cut in before she could. “The stater… they’re a coin given to customers of the Hidden Elements,” he said. Cherie’s face fell. “Euclid is the one who gives them out. No one is certain why, exactly, but they function as a sort identifier for members of –,”

“You’re telling him too much, you idiot!” said Cherie. The witch turned to Severus, eyes narrowed in a glare. “We’ve told you what you wanted. Now go.” Severus was impressed with her gall, but the woman was stupid to not realize he was the one in control here.

“I think not,” he drawled, fingering his wand in a manner similar to – no, his thoughts needn’t go down that route. Severus sneered, effectively causing her to flinch, but the defiance in her stance stayed. Lovely. “Members of what, now?”

“The –,”

“I want to hear it from Cherie,” said Severus, her name rolling off his tongue with vitriol. He smirked at her, terrible amused in the way her fists trembled with rage and indignation. A Gryffindor if he’d ever seen one.

“Members of the Quintessence,” she spat, eyes darkening. “And before you ask what that is, it’s a community dedicated to the Hidden Elements. They work to keep it under wraps, and help direct holders of stater to Hidden Elements when they appear. Hidden Elements is… it’s almost an underground market – in some circles, it’s becoming almost legendary. Hogwash, that. It’s no wonder staters sell for as much as they do – and no, we will not give you a stater; you must earn your own.”

A group working to keep the Hidden Elements, well, hidden. How interesting. Their name, Quintessence – of the highest quality? No, the fifth element: Aether.

Severus hummed. “And if I did not wish to earn mine? What is keeping me from taking yours, for instance?” He twirled his wand, immensely pleased with the way both squawked with outrage.

“Because you can’t!” shouted Cherie, a grim sort of glee curling her lips. “If you do, your hands will rot off, and then vines will sprout in your lungs and burst from your mouth –,” Severus snorted, unamused.

Mateo’s weight shifted to one foot. “She’s not lying,” he said. “It really does happen. It’s not as extreme as it sounds, but it will slowly consume your body until you’re just a mass of wriggling plants. Devil’s Snare, to be exact.”

“Oh?” he said, an eyebrow arched. Severus appeared nonplussed, but on the inside, he was anything but. This man was not lying. “And how would I go about gaining my own, then?”

The two shared a look, then, with an anxious expression, Cherie told him, “Well, anyone who finds, and I suppose is a customer of, the Hidden Elements receives one. You have to be devoted – or really determined – to finding it. That’s how we all got ours. I know that most of Quintessence are of the devoted sort – they worship Euclid’s Elements. I guess I am too, in a way, but also not. I covet what they sell, not the store itself. And Mateo here was simply determined on getting the supplies he needed, difficulty be damned.”

Mateo sighed. “Look, if you want to find Hidden Elements, then you just need to look. Look at past locations, look at the intervals between closing and setting up shop. That’s all I can tell you. If – when – you get your stater, you’ll understand.”

“Of course,” Severus drawled. “Your cooperation was oh-so helpful,” he sneered, eyeing the witch with disdain. “And I would advise you to reign in that brash Gryffindor temperament of yours, Cherie,” he said in parting, swerving to stalk off into the direction he had come from.

“I’m a Hufflepuff, you wanker!” she shouted in response.

The advice was useful, despite it all. Severus had taken out a map, noted the positions of past Hidden Elements, and drew lines connecting their appearances. It hadn’t been obvious at first, but there was a sort of pattern that became noticeable with reoccurrence. Hidden Element’s appearances were random at times, and could be anywhere, and other times seemed almost predictable. Severus had undertaken harder missions before, though, and from the Dark Lord, no less. If anyone could do it, it would be Severus.

His first attempt to locate Hidden Elements ended with Severus arriving a day too late. The storefront already appeared abandoned, and upon closer inspection, Severus had noted Euclid’s marking once again etched into the wood of the building.

The next time, Severus had been completely off. He had meandered through the dark alleys of South Russia for days, and yet came out inconclusive. It had been a miss by a long shot – Hidden Elements having been in Italy for the duration of his stay.

Finally – finally! – he had been in Egypt, perusing a magical bazaar, when a silver glint had caught his eye. It was to his unbelievable relief that he spied the silver Pegasus embellished coin. Severus approached the stall, feeling oddly anxious, and looked to the proprietor. Their face was swallowed beneath hood of their charcoal cloak, and under it Severus could spy a tyrian purple kaftan, or so it appeared to be.

“We meet again,” murmured Euclid. Goosebumps crawled across Severus’ arms, and he swore he could feel the Cheshire smile no doubt aimed at him. “I’ve been waiting for you,” they continued, reaching beneath their stall. From underneath, they produced an ornately carved, wooden case. It resembled a cigar box, but when it was opened, the contents were revealed to be numerous, shining silver coins.

“You recognize these, don’t you? These are my stater – show it to the Quintessence and they will give you the location of the next Hidden Elements.” There was a hint of amusement in Euclid’s voice. “They sell for a decent price, too, but I warn against it,” they said, and Severus almost thought he could see a hint of pearlescent teeth. “Use it wisely.” The stater was presented to him. Severus took it, a thumb running over the indents.

“Use?” he asked, thinking back on what he knew of the stater. Stealing one could – according to what others had to say – severely harm or kill someone. Selling it was similarly unadvised, but why? Why the precautions, why go to such extremes?

Euclid laughed loudly. “What? Did you think I would settle for something simple? Obviously not. No, that stater is more than it appears, as you’ve likely figured. I won’t tell you more than that, however. It’s much more fun to solve it on your own.”

“And so, they gave this you? No debt, no favor, no strings attached?” asked Albus, running a finger along the smooth edge of the coin. He held it up to the light, narrowed his eyes, then brought it back down.

“I sincerely doubt that,” replied Severus. “They seemed to be hinting at something or another, but what, I am not entirely sure.” Albus was studying Euclid’s mark once more. “Is there any chance it is cursed or charmed?”

“None I have yet to find,” said Albus. He flipped the coin, staring intently at the back. “None yet.”

“Euclid warned against selling it. There must be something to it – how else would they differentiate a fake from their own?”

Albus smiled, countering with, “Well, perhaps she keeps a record of whom she gives them out to. Or has an exceptional memory.”

Severus snorted. It was plausible, but not the answer he was looking for. “She?” he asked instead. “And what gives you the idea that Euclid is a she? It is, after all, the name of a muggle that was male.”

Shrugging, Albus answered maddeningly, “Why, just a hunch, is all,” with a twinkle in his eye.

A hunch indeed.