He had never been down this way before. Never needed to and certainly not been interested in it. Dirk was, by nature, risk-averse. It was the reason for his pretence of being half-blood and why he never wanted to go anywhere close to the war. It was also why he felt perfectly comfortable in his safe little office in the Ministry where he rarely faced jeopardy. The lock to his flat was growing increasingly dodgy, however, and it seemed reparo didn’t really work on magic locks. A shopkeeper in Diagon Alley had pointed him in this direction when he had inquired where the best place was to go to find a locksmith. Now, though, Dirk had no idea where he was going and he felt distinctly nervous in the dark alleyway, surrounded by people who looked at him in a way that suggested they were not thinking innocent thoughts. To see a familiar face was a relief, even if it was not one he would have called a friend. More an acquaintance, through a mutual interest in Potions and both garnering the interest of Professor Slughorn. “Snape! Thank goodness I’ve seen you, I think I’m lost.”