Title: Solanaceae Serenity
Rating: R
Pairing: Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Warnings: drug use, explicit language, explicit sexual scenes with a person under 18, self-harm, slash.
Summary: Harry discovers a potion in a restricted text that helps to alleviate his troubled thoughts. Set during Harry's sixth year. AU. No HBP Spoilers.
AN: If you do not appreciate slash, meaning relations between two males, then I suggest you refrain from reading this story. Also, if you are squicked by drug abuse and self-harm, this story is not for you.
This is a rather short story, too long to be a one-shot, but too short to be called anything else. Will most likely consist of perhaps three to four chapters, each longer than this intial one.
DISCLAIMER: All recognised characters are property of JK Rowling, Warner Bros., Bloomsbury publishing and anyone else I have inadvertently missed out. No profit is being made from this endeavour.
Solanaceae Serenity- Chapter One
Deadly nightshade, atropa belladonna; a herb containing deadly alkaloids that cause severe digestive upset, trembling, weakness, difficulty in breathing and quite possibly paralysis. These alkaloids, a group of mildly alkaline compounds derived mostly from plants, will cause these effects upon the human body. This toxic herb also contains nitrogen in a similar manner to that of ammonia, to which it is structurally related.
Yet nevertheless a potion (Solanaceae Serenity) containing this deadly nightshade as it's chief ingredient was to be found in a book called 'Most Potente Potions'. This book, however, was located only within the Hogwarts restricted section of the library, or in selected book stores- namely those situated in areas such as Knockturn Alley. But Harry Potter had found this potion by sheer luck, only remembering it from when he'd seen it during his second year when Hermione had brewed the polyjuice potion.
But this book was now Harry Potter's best friend or, perhaps more appropriately, his worst friend.
Harry had, most meaningfully, stumbled upon this potion that promised to dull his feelings, and his emotions, for a period of time and apparently allow him a few hours of peace. His mind was to be freed from his conscience and rampaging thoughts, leaving him feeling serene even when he shouldn't have been. It was, however expected or unexpectedly, highly addictive and illicit.
But Harry hadn't counted on becoming dependant. As far as addictions go, the Solanaceae Serenity potion was rather quite demanding once given free reign upon a willing body.
Since it was a magical concoction, it needed magical ingredients including some that weren't sold over the counter. This was the first hurdle for Harry to overcome if indeed he deemed himself needy of this potion, which he had. Of course Snape's dungeon supply cupboard could start him off, but Harry didn't want to rely solely upon it. Instead, he managed to create an alias, and charmed the parchment order he'd written on to spill no secrets, unless extremely heavily confunded- which was highly unlikely to happen.
The potions supply shop in Knockturn Alley had been more than happy to comply with Harry's requests and orders, as well as send the ingredients with an anti-detection charm that would be able to fool even Hogwarts' security measures.
Brewing had been another issue, but after thoroughly scanning and monitoring the --most useful-- Marauders map, Harry found the place he needed- an abandoned room (Hogwarts was full of them) of some description in the tower of the east wing. It was also close to a series of secret passages, which Harry suspected had been created for house-elf use, and had paths leading to both Gryffindor territory and the dungeons.
It must have been expected for Harry to undergo changes during his abysmal summer holidays, for no one questioned him on his new, more silent and brooding demeanour. Not even his two closest friends, Hermione and Ron, who although obviously concerned, never uttered a single word.
The first time Harry took the potion, he never wanted to return from its effects. His memory of it was slightly hazy, but the feeling of complete ease and peace remained embedded within him, along with the weakness of his muscles that was one of the mentioned side effects. The book also stated that he might experience mild anxiety, although it was less likely to occur. Plus, Harry figured a bit of twitching wasn't too high a price to pay for his moments of harmony.
It had initially taken two weeks for the twitching to hit him, after having taken Solanaceae Serenity every second night. First it began as mild hand shaking when attempting activities such as writing, and continued until his left eye-lid twitched around his dilated pupil. His thigh had also developed a tendency to quiver, along with his stomach muscles. Sleep was also evading him more frequently, but Harry felt no tiredness.
Apparently no one realised what he'd been doing, although almost every one of his teachers commented on his handwriting, and lack of punctuality with homework. Snape, expectedly, suspected him of thieving from his store cupboard, which Harry actually had done during his first week of school.
After a month, the need for silence and relaxation became more severe, rendering Harry into almost incessant twitching if not delivered. He began taking the potion every single night of the week, and relishing in the fact that, being in the east wing, he could watch and enjoy the natural beauty of each sunrise. It was this simple pleasure that enhanced the potion it seemed, bringing Harry to a point where he felt, for the first time in his life, a sense of normality.
Even if it had been artificially induced.
It wasn't until three months into the school year, and of course his addiction, that anyone really questioned Harry's behaviour or asked any questions. Harry shrugged them all off effectively, since whenever he muttered something about the death of Sirius they all shut their mouths very hastily indeed.
And it wasn't until Christmas holidays that he began taking 'The Serenity' as he called it, up to three times a day since he had no distractions and his body was slowly becoming immune and accustomed to its effects. Hermione and Ron had each gone to their respective homes, Harry forced (not really) into staying back at Hogwarts for his own safety-, which Harry found to be highly ironic.
He spent the first few days in a lucid, drug induced haze, not doing much other than indulging in the peaceful Serenity. He barely left his hideout, and even managed to forget completely that it was Christmas day, his only thought being that he needed to place an order for more ingredients. The trouble was, since it was Christmas, Harry also forgot that even the shops in Knockturn Alley would be closed for the next two, festive days- meaning that he'd resultantly run out of potion.
Presently, a wave of panic shot through Harry's almost skeletally thin, from not eating or sleeping, body and to rectify it he took a large gulp from the goblet of potion in his trembling grip. Feeling his mind lull back into oblivion, he could again relax.
The sunset really was beautiful, he thought solemnly, watching the shadows lengthen and eventually coat the world in darkness, even if you couldn't actually see the sun sinking below the horizon. For a few moments, nothing else but the spreading darkness existed. But when reality began clawing its way back into Harry's conscious thought, he couldn't help but think how utterly useless life really was, for in the end you're only going to die and loose everything you've every fought for.
Not that he was essentially complaining, but Harry knew he'd had a harder life that most of the people he knew. Of course there were millions of others out there with perspectively ruined lives, but they didn't matter for they either held onto tiny specks of that frustrating emotion known as optimism, or killed themselves before things could get any worse. But many did believe that all would be all right in the end.
"But of course it's alright in the end," Harry grunted out loud to the empty room, "for in the end they die, having endured hell for no reason at all."
But it wasn't as simple as that, for death was also undesirable. Death was the unknown, the place of no return. Once death becomes you, there's no way of redeeming the lost life, no matter how miserable it had been. It was this thought that was perhaps the only thing stopping Harry from swallowing deadly poison to kill him, or simply jumping out of the tower window.
Instead, Harry chose to make life more bearable, and that's where the Solanaceae Serenity potion came into his life. While under the influence he was free to let his mind wander and his muscles relax. The Serenity abolished feelings of doubt and insecurity, replacing them with his old flame of curiosity and harmless wonder. The potion wasn't the same as ordinary Muggle drugs that put you on a 'high'. If anything, Harry had wondered, having read a lot about illicit drugs recently, the experience could be mildly associated with the effects of consuming Magic Mushrooms, but without the schizophrenia-like hallucinations. It was similar in the way it enhanced everything around you and created indescribable beauty in troubled times, when beauty was becoming exceptionally hard to find.
The amount of Serenity he now took in one session was equal to almost three days' worth during his first two weeks of consumption. Not only did Harry have to brew every three days now, but he also knew he must certainly be digging a pretty deep hole in his inheritance, for deadly nightshade wasn't exactly the cheapest herb in Britain. But then again, Harry mused one day; they say that happiness does come at a price.
Once realising what day it was, Harry wrinkled his nose disdainfully. He didn't know if he had presents or not, for he'd been in his room, as he thought of it as now, for two days and a night. Harry thought of presents as an entirely superficial way of celebrating a day that needed only, in his opinion, a loving family in your midst. It was people like the Dursley's who ruined the day, focusing not on each other, but on objects that really couldn't fill the void of not feeling loved. It was all just a show on the outside, none of it to them was done out of love.
But for the moment the Dursley's weren't Harry's main concern- his hands were beginning to tremble meaning he needed a top up of potion. Staggering weakly, Harry made his way over to the desk that held his cauldron. Peering inside, he was horrified to find a mere few drops of potion remained, and his ingredient order hadn't arrived. He lifted the cauldron unsteadily, almost dropping it, and poured the meagre amount into his goblet and swallowed it quickly, waiting for the tremors to abate.
After a good few minutes, which was usually more than enough time, the tremors did the complete opposite- they became worse. The Serenity was wearing off, and fast, Harry desperately needing more. He rummaged through all his equipment, now not necessary since it was his sixth year and he'd dropped potions as a subject, but his search was in vain. There were now two options for him:
One: Simply let the potion wear off, neither pleasant nor wanted or;
Two: Go to Snape's store cupboard and steal what he needed.
The latter was more appealing, so Harry, now shivering all over, donned his invisibility cloak and half jogged- half hopped his way down the hidden passage to the dungeons, all the way feeling as though he were performing an impression of Mad-eye Moody.
Along the way he met no foe although, Harry again remembered, Christmas dinner was probably still underway. Harry considered himself lucky for the smallest moment.
Naturally the cupboard was locked, but Harry knew a way around this, which he'd figured out by complete accident. If you kicked the door on the correct knot while casting alohomora the door gave a little squeal and opened pronto. Harry bet that if Snape knew the door to his supplies cupboard was such a wimp it'd be found smouldering away in a fire somewhere. Again this trick worked, and Harry stumbled his way in, his thigh having just endured a rather powerful, and painful, muscle spasm.
It was way too risky to summon the nightshade, for all he knew there were explosives that might fall along the way and end his miserable life. Reaching up on his tiptoes, he pushed aside a jar labelled 'Dried frog spawn' in search of his 'Deadly Nightshade'. Desperation was beginning to ravage his nerves; his muscles contracting painfully and erratically with perspiration trickling down the back of his neck and trailing down his nose. With a shaky hand he moved another jar, only for his heart to skip an already accelerated beat when it went crashing to the hard stone floor.
"-- doesn't matter." Harry muttered under his breath. "-- he'll know I've been here anyway."
A few more smelly things crashed down around his feet, Harry not caring for he knew they weren't what he was in search of. Panicking that his search was futile Harry, almost yelling, commanded; "Accio Deadly Nightshade!" And waited.
But nothing happened.
"No!" Harry cried, falling to the ground in a heap, realising belatedly that one of the jars, and the bad smell, was undiluted butober pus, which was soaking into his jeans and beginning to burn his skin with boils like he was on fire.
Pulling himself unsteadily to his feet, still enraged, Harry spun around erratically and took a great step out of the room only to collide head on with no other than Snape himself.
"You!" Harry bellowed, his eyes bloodshot, pupils dilated and no less than utterly wild. "This is your fault!" He said, swaying and twitching, not even noticing the horrified expression on Snape's face as Snape's arms stopped him just in time from falling.
"Potter... what have you--" The notion of concern was missed by Harry, who was feeling worse as the seconds ticked by slowly. "Come with me." It was an order. Snape took hold of Harry's arms to drag him, but Harry fell to the floor.
"No... can't... need..." He whimpered, holding his head as a powerful headache erupted, along with the boils on his legs- only Harry couldn't feel them, since his limbs were numbing and cramping.
Snape levitated Harry and took him not to his office, but to his rooms as he's realised that something was very wrong with the boy.
"Potter, just tell me what you've taken?" Snape growled, not able to sound caring even if he really tried. But Harry just groaned in response. Snape shook him by the shoulders in a futile attempt to rouse him.
"Tell me, boy, or we go straight to the headmaster now." He said, a little less harsh but no less demanding. It wasn't up until that point that he really noticed the state Potter was in- skeletally thin, pale, and obviously on some form of illicit potion. He thought back to the start of year, when he'd been robbed, and his eyes widened in horror.
"Nightshade!"
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Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed! This will be the edited version of this story, as the original is NC-17! But that doesnt' take effect until later on, anyway! Please review...
