Enter the potions master!

Dog Days Are Over

The Belle Dames

Severus Snape scratched absently at his neck. The past two days of abysmal rain had wreaked havoc on the sensitive scar tissue. He grimaced and closed his notebook. Figures were beginning to blur. He wanted a coffee.

He was conveniently crossing the foyer from his study when a knock sounded at the door. He froze. This was a truly uncommon occurrence. He never had visitors; only socialized when his profession demanded, and those visits were conducted in his office at the Ministry.

His face ticked. He considered ignoring the knock, but it came again – just firmer, and with a decidedly feminine presence – like a lady coughing for attention in a room full of men. He sighed and strode to the door, vexed and perplexed.

The latch clicked. Heavy oak cast a moist freshness on his face, and he stared. As if a time-turner had been twisted, two cloaked figures shifted toward him on the stoop. Witches, obviously. One shrouded in a full-length black travelling robe, the other in a shorter, burgundy button-up, but both hooded against eyes and rain.

He briefly scanned the upturned shadowed faces. One was unknown with vaguely familiar features. But the other… "Narcissa," he greeted smoothly. He deduced the other to be – "Andromeda."

"Severus." Narcissa's mellow tone never betrayed emotion, so if she felt any of the nostalgia he was experiencing, she certainly didn't show it. "Forgive us for – "

He suddenly remembered courtesy and the weather, waved off her apologies. "Please, come in."

Their respective drying charms created a warm swirl of magic. Snape collected and hung their coats on pegs beside his door. He gestured to an archway adjacent to his study – his little used sitting room – and cleared his throat. "I was about to enjoy a coffee. Will you join me?"

The sisters shared a look, then nods. "Thank you." Andromeda give and awkward half-bow. It was a strikingly odd gesture from a witch so similar in appearance to Bellatrix LeStrange.

"Excuse me for a moment." In the kitchen, he stewed. They wanted something. That was certain. And Narcissa Malfoy had never asked him for any sort of reasonable favor. He prepared a tray – cream and sugar and fresh biscuits. And Andromeda Tonks? When had the sisters reunited?

He walked slowly into the sitting room, taking in the witches on the settee as he approached. There would be no mistaking these were sisters – daughters of that Noble and Ancient House of Black. They had youth on their sides. Andromeda appeared no older than perhaps 35, though he knew her to be at least 46 or 47 by now. She'd clearly seen the less darkness of the pair with untroubled sky-blue eyes and softness to her high cheekbones.

Narcissa, on the other hand, was chiseled out of ice with a diamond-cutting tool. Pale porcelain, her cool perfection could cut dragonhide without displacing a wave of her odd bi-colored hair. Her own blue eyes might have been the same as Andromeda's, but ghosts lingered in the sky blue like clouds. And to have such damnably pretty lips, she held them in a painfully tight purse.

Snape wondered briefly if she'd ever had a proper orgasm as he set the service upon the coffee table. The thought gave him a wry smirk. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit? Given the weather, I imagine it is a matter of some import."

He watched Narcissa look away from the painting above his gilded mantel – Waterhouse's La Belle Dame Sans Merci. Her hands trembled almost imperceptibly as she fussed with her coffee. "I hardly know where to begin," she murmured.

Severus sat across from the witches, the leather chair creaking as he crossed his legs. "The beginning will suffice." He steepled his fingers.

Narcissa blushed. Her jaw hardened. She looked to Andromeda, who blinked, then sighed.

"As I'm sure you are aware, Master Snape," Tonks began.

"Severus," he interrupted smoothly. "Please."

A nod, and she continued. "After…the war, my husband and I adopted our grandson, Teddy." Snape nodded. He watched Narcissa's eyes flit back to his painting, then returned his attention to Andromeda. "Well. For the last several months, Teddy has been exhibiting disturbing behaviors around the time of the full moon." She took a deep breath. "Recently, these behaviors seem to have escalated in nearly full-blown lycanthropy." She accepted a coffee from her sister and sighed in a way that said she was understating somewhat. "He's becoming…impossible to control."

Severus was piqued. It was well known that he'd worked extensively to improve Wolfsbane potion. He'd established a respected name for himself as the Ministry's top potions researcher and patent reviewer. "Impossible?" He asked. "You can't mean the boy is fully transforming already? He can only be –"

"Nearly five," Andromeda supplied. "And I'm afraid that is exactly what I mean."

He leaned forward. "Incredible," he whispered more to himself than his visitors. "May I ask how you've been controlling him previously? You must know that Wolfsbane is unsafe for a child."

"Well aware," Tonks answered. "Calming draughts worked for a time. Then sleeping draughts." She grew uncomfortable. "Binding spells, for a time." She looked at Narcissa. "My sister came about three months ago. Her magic is a bit…stronger than mine in defensive spells. And her incarcerous worked well, but it's simply draining. And during last night's episode… Well, we lost control, and…" Their true helplessness bled into her form. She slouched. "Teddy managed to break free. And he attacked us."

"Attacked you?" Severus tensed. "Did he bite either of you?"

"No!" Andromeda answered quickly. "He was gagged tightly! Just scratches –"

"Let me see." Snape rose.

"They're not bad," Tonks said. She watched in almost fear as Severus approached her.

"Show me," he said firmly.

Resigned, the witch unbuttoned her cuff and tugged the sleeve up. She revealed a series of pink, healing has marks. She'd obviously pulled her arm from a clawed grasp. "What did you use on them?"

"Dittany." She affixed her sleeve. "I told you they weren't bad. Cissy got the worst of it."

Narcissa's wide eyes shot an accusing glare and Andromeda as Snape's hawk-like attentions swerved to her. "Well?" He gestured to her arm.

"Unnecessary." The Malfoy witch replied primly.

"Oh, show him, Cissy!" Andromeda hissed. "You said yourself they still sting some. And I saw you scratching at –"

"Andy!" The paler sister flushed fully.

"Narcissa." Snape softened his tone. "If they are deep enough, a werewolf's scratches can infect as easily as its bite."

Two sets of eyes watched Cissa expectantly. She stared at the porcelain coffeepot, red lips thinned. Fingers with equally red nails twitched in her lap for a beat. "Damn it," she breathed. Then briskly, she was unbuttoning her satin blouse.

'Oh,' Snape thought. He schooled his reaction as she uncovered an expanse of creamy décolletage hemmed in my heart-shaped white corsetry. He tried to focus on the four angry gashes disappearing into the lingerie over her left breast.

Narcissa's patrician nostrils flared. She appeared to be staring at his stomach as he leaned into her personal space. He caught a faint whiff of cooking sugar and had to hope she would spare them both the embarrassment of looking any lower. "Dittany as well?" He asked just above her ear.

She nodded curtly.

"They look fine." He went back to his chair. "I believe you are both very lucky. These scratches seem harmless, but if the attacks are escalating is this manner…" He trailed off.

Narcissa was struggling with her top button. Andromeda reached over to assist, and received a resounding hand slap for her troubles. The blonde's tight features said she had suffered enough indignity for one day.

"Will you help us then? Please?" Andromeda asked, rubbing her pink hand absently.

He could feel her desperation like humidity in the room. He sighed. He was honestly intrigued, but he had so much damned work already, and more on the way. Infernal Ministry paper pushers… "I can get you the right people," he said at last. "The best people. They will –"

"No." Andy cut him off. "If anyone finds out they'll take him! St. Mungo's or one of those dreadful homes… No." she was shaking her head. "I can't lose him. I love Teddy! And I don't care what he is! I won't lose him like I lost my Dora." Her voice failed her, choked by tears.

Snape contained a wince. Goddamned crying witches.

"Severus."

'Nope,' he thought. 'Don't even look at her.' But he rarely took his own advice, and he met Narcissa Malfoy's big blue eyes.

"Please," she said softly. "He's just a boy."

'Fuck me.' He slammed his steepled fingers into his lap. "Very well." The hope on their faces was almost smothering. "I'll need to see the boy. And I'll need blood samples." They nodded. "I will do what I can," he stressed. "But." They stared. "If I am unsuccessful in my attempts, Mrs. Tonks, you must agree to seek outside assistance - for your sake and the boy's."

"I will!" The weeping witch accepted a kerchief from her unperturbed sister. By unspoken agreement, they all rose. Andromeda clasped his hand in hers. "But you will be successful, Master Snape. I know it. My sister speaks so highly of you."

He gave Narcissa a measured stare. She did not look away, but took his arm in a gesture reminiscent of a vow they'd shared years earlier. "Mrs. Malfoy," he intoned. "I shall endeavor to not make a liar out of you."

"I've been one before," she replied, not missing a beat. "But I do have faith in your abilities. Thank you, Severus."

He nodded. Andromeda offered him a card. He had to release the Malfoy witch's arm to take it. "My home," Andy explained. "Feel free to apparate there. It's well-hidden."

"Expect me on Sunday," he said. "We haven't much time before the next full moon."

He saw them into the foyer, retrieved their cloaks. Narcissa flicked her curled hair over the collar of her frock coat. The smell of warm pastry again assailed him, and he was struck by the differences between the sisters. Andromeda smelled of powder and perfume and was tall and angular. Narcissa was petite in comparison, curvy and apparently made of cinnamon and caramel.

He licked his lips and saw them off. Closing the door behind the visitors, he returned to the sitting room. Finally able to enjoy his coffee in peace, he propped his now bare feet on the Queen Anne table and stared at the Waterhouse above the mantel.

He scowled. Goddamned crying witches. And to dash it all, he was suddenly craving hot mince pies…