A Small Price to Pay for Peace

Eliana was so blinded by rage that she missed how wrong the situation felt. She roared back even louder, "Your grandma's right here!"

"You thieving bastard! You rob me in broad daylight, then have the nerve to shout at me?"

She lunged and sank her teeth into the person in front of her. "Give me back my money!"

Afraid the thief might escape, she locked her legs around their knees like vines and reached up to claw at the bastard's throat.

She had only studied magic for a few months. She stood no chance in a duel against an adult Wizard. If this person pulled out a wand, wouldn't she be done for?

But spells had to be spoken aloud, didn't they?

She could stop that at the source!

As for the possibility of a Nonverbal Spell—Eliana sneered. If this bastard was that skilled, would they have resorted to the primitive trick of bumping into her to steal her purse?

As if!

That Apparition just now was probably the best they could manage!

Eliana raked her nails across the person's throat, leaving five deep, bloody marks.

The figure in black sucked in a sharp breath and ripped her off like a stuck-on plaster.

Dangling in midair by the back of her collar, Eliana heard an icy voice from the person before her. "Take a good look at who I am!"

"I don't care who you are!" Eliana thrashed in the air like a worm come to life. "Even if you're Merlin, you can't—"

Her spinning vision finally steadied. She met Snape's black eyes, as dark as twin tunnels, and fell silent like a crowing rooster whose neck had suddenly been seized.

She had never seen Snape look so disheveled. His hair hung messily around his cheeks, with several strands strewn across his forehead. Bloody scratches marked his neck. His usually immaculate black Wizard robes had been crumpled by her wild assault, and a clear footprint marked his backside.

All her handiwork.

Once she realized that, Eliana grew even quieter.

After all, Snape gave away expensive Essence of Dittany without a second thought and had rare Potions ingredients piled throughout his office. He was hardly likely to covet her paltry savings.

Her feet were off the ground, the rage had worn off, and her good sense had returned.

Eliana, now fully aware of what she had done, went as quiet as a mouse.

Snape gave a cold snort and dropped her. "Come to your senses?"

A sharp pain shot through his wrist. His face remained expressionless, but his hand trembled slightly as he drew it back.

It feels like she bit right through it. Damn it, what are Ritchie's teeth made of?

Snape was furious.

Dumbledore, that old busybody, had grown more childish with age. Christmas had not even begun, and he had already poured three pints of syrup down his throat. His cheeks had swollen to nearly the size of his head, and he had run out of the Potion for strengthening teeth. That had forced Snape to go out on his day off to buy ingredients to brew more!

As if the wasted money and effort weren't enough, Ritchie had chased him down on his way home and kicked, clawed, and bitten him in the street for reasons he could not begin to fathom.

Bloody hell! Why do I keep getting bitten by dogs lately?

Snape's face was nearly as black as coal.

"Ritchie, I assume you still possess some semblance of a brain and might know how dangerous it is to throw yourself at someone as they Apparate. Or is there some organ you're dissatisfied with and hoping to lose?"

Snape's voice was a little hoarse, but that did nothing to slow the venom pouring out of him.

Eliana landed like a chick with broken wings. Her backside, already sore from a beating, took yet another direct hit, and pain shot through her.

Snape wasn't the thief. She had grabbed the wrong person. By now, there was no telling where the thief had gone; even if she rushed straight back to Diagon Alley, she would never catch them. Her money was gone!

Eliana burst into tears.

Her wail was so piercing and thunderous that even Snape, still angry and ready to unleash more venom, froze for a moment.

He hesitated. "What's wrong?"

"Waaaaah—"

With someone showing concern, Eliana howled even harder. She curled into a tiny ball on the floor, tears streaming down her face. "It's gone. Everything's gone, waaah—"

Trust a Gryffindor cub to put more force into wailing than anyone else. She sounds like a trumpet.

The thought drifted through Snape's mind.

But the human trumpet was far too loud. Even the curtains of the neighbors who normally ignored every disturbance had begun to stir. Unwilling to make a spectacle of himself in the street, Snape picked her up and carried her inside.

Eliana was so absorbed in crying that she did not notice she had been moved.

Snape had intended to wait for Eliana to calm down on her own, but after ten minutes, he could bear no more. The little trumpet could truly howl. Her cries were shrill, sharp, loud, and relentless. He felt that listening any longer might shorten his life.

"Enough." He cut her off brusquely. "What exactly is gone?"

Eliana sobbed so hard she could barely breathe. "The walnuts I spent three months carving, waaah. I saved up a huge pile and just sold them in Chinatown for Galleons. Someone stole them. Every last one."

The more she said, the sadder she became. Tears poured down her cheeks. My money!

Sitting on the floor hurt her backside, so she inched onto the rug, shifted position, and kept crying.

"I wanted to buy chicken drumsticks, chocolate, cake, nut brittle, and toffee for my little brothers and sisters. They've been looking forward to it for ages. But now I have to go back with nothing in my hands, nothing in my arms, and nothing but an open mouth, waaah. How can I face them? I promised everyone, waaah."

As she cried, Eliana wondered if any kind passerby would toss her a few coins if she crouched under London Bridge with a battered bowl. It was the holidays. Surely someone would?

She really did not want to go back empty-handed.

Eliana's howling made the veins in Snape's head throb. At last, he raised his voice. "Enough. Stop crying."

When Eliana showed no sign of stopping, he finally snapped. "Shut up."

"Hic!"

Startled, Eliana swayed in place like a penguin, her lips puckering into a duck's bill.

But she fell quiet.

Snape breathed a little easier and rubbed his temple. "How much was stolen?"

At the question, Eliana nearly started crying again. "Twenty-three Galleons and seven Silver Sickles. Every bit of it."

Such a huge fortune, waaah. After buying supplies for the orphanage, she had even hoped to use some of what remained to buy herself a little Christmas present as a treat.

What had those three months of carving walnuts amounted to? Voluntary promotion of Chinese culture?

The moment Eliana thought about it, her eyes filled with tears again.

"I thought it must be something worth crying this much over." Snape gave a derisive snort and tossed her a small purse. "Shut up. Consider it the price of some peace and quiet."