Author Note- Look how good I'm being to all of you! Two chapters in the one week! Possibly three if I'm feeling especially nice... That and because there probably won't be an update 'till Thursday of next week at the earliest after this week... They're making me work in Adv English, for goodness sake!
And for any of you who may have been wondering, my name is of no relation to the clothing brand Banana Moon- I only found out a that there was such a thing a few weeks ago, but felt I should clear that up for y'all!
Enjoy!
Written to- Placebo- Speak in tongues.
Salazar finished grinding the shrivel figs and passed the chopping board over to Severus' waiting hand so that it could be added to the potion. They had found that they worked surprisingly well as a team, and though their styles when it came to potions were entirely different, they complemented each other well. Severus took the board from him and began to add the next ingredient to the cauldron when he suddenly jerked his arm violently sending the board's cargo sailing across the room. He spun away from the mess and headed towards the closest sink.
"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck..." he hissed easing the left sleeve of his robe up to the elbow so he could hold his inflamed forearm under the cool running water.
"Are you okay?" Slytherin rushed after him still partly in shock from the sudden turn of events. Looking over the other wizard's shoulder he winced at the sight of the burnt looking flesh surrounding the contorted tattoo.
"Been better..." his companion gasped.
"We should get you up to see Poppy, get a salve to cool that off properly..." The smaller wizard followed as the taller headed towards one of the doors leading off.
"Won't work. Being called. Need to go. Tell Minerva." Severus left through one of the heavy wooden doors which was slammed and bolted hard in Salazar's face when he attempted to follow.
It had been four days. Four days and no word back from Severus about what was going on. Salazar stirred the potion 32 and one quarter times anti-clockwise, that was the problem with potions, it gave you too long to stand and think. He had recreated the potion that had been spoiled by the low flying shrivel figs, and 14 variations there of. It was odd how quiet it was in the lab when there was no one to share the space with; no idle chat while waiting for the potion to steep, muttered thanks when things were passed back and forth, and no reassuring presence moving around the room or clattering about in the store. That was another thing the first Slytherin pondered while he began the 27 turns clockwise, when had all this become deemed as reassuring or even pleasant for that matter? He was by no means ignorant of the situation they were in, the passing touches and brushing of arms and over indulgent complements, were at times incredibly shameless. It was the fact that these feelings and notions were encroaching on potions grounds. Potions was something to be done alone and in perfect silence. It was a precise science and an exact art for Merlin's sake! He set the potion to steep and sat behind the heavy oak desk. Fuck. He missed him.
It had been seven days now. Knowing that the hollow, tired feeling was his missing the other potion master was doing nothing to help matters. His fellow Founders insistence on appearing at odd intervals to try and stop him from worrying about his new 'friend', was frustrating. The fact that all 28 potions were still steeping, and therefore he had nothing to busy himself with, was unbearable. He leant further back into the solid old chair and indulged in propping his feet up against the desk. Today was Godric's day and it was getting close to lunch, so the giant Founder would probably be making an appearance shortly.
As if on cue, there was a knock on the door. And that was when Salazar knew there was something amiss, Godric couldn't knock a door if his life depended on it. For a moment his heart soared with hope at the idea that Severus had returned, but his knock didn't sound like that. He silently berated himself for knowing what the other dark haired wizard's knock sounded like. There it was again, and he realised that he hadn't called for the guest to enter.
"Yes?" He called while rushing towards the cauldrons to look busier than he needed to be in case he required to get rid of his visitor at short notice.
"Hello, my boy, just came to pay you a quick visit and see how that potion of yours is coming along." Dumbledore strode into the room, his eyes a twinkle.
"It would really be more prudent to say that they were Severus' and mine, but they are..."
"Yes, yes, Severus, but you are the greater potion master here, so just between you and me..."
"Well that would really be more of a matter of opinion rather than fact." It was Salazar's turn to cut off the conversation direction this time, a feeling of distrust pooling at the bottom of his spine. The Headmaster's eyes glinted and his course changed direction with a beaming smile.
"Of course, my boy, of course."
"Have you heard any news from him? Severus, I mean. But I guess no news is good news, isn't it?"
"Not always." He clasped his hands in front on him to stop from rubbing them in glee, here was a new angle to work if ever he saw it, he did so love when one of his little plans came together.
"It is a very risky role that dear Severus plays in the war, you do know what it is he does, don't you, my boy?"
The constant 'my boy's were really starting to get on Salazar's last nerve, but information was too sweet a lure.
"He spies for the Order against Voldemort, he risks everything each time he is called out," He gave a long sad sigh, " I always fear that there will be one day when he doesn't return safely to us, I wish there was another way, but with so little power in reserve the intelligence he brings back to us is priceless..." Dumbledore shook his head, and folding his hands behind his back he made his way round the room before continuing.
"The states he comes back in, horrific! And to think that is how the inner circle are treated! And , oh! He has been away so long! I do worry, my boy, I do worry..." He shot a quick glance to the other wizard and allowed himself a quick smirk at the sick look on his face as he slumped into the old chair. Time to go in for the kill, or the loss of this pawn wouldn't be worth it.
Dumbledore made his way back across the lab to face The Founder across the heavy desk,
"You could help, you know?"
He could have danced and sang for how quickly the man's head snapped up to meet his.
"Well, that is to say, you and your companions... with that sort of power our dear Severus would never have to answer another calling ever again..."
Slytherin's head snapped away just as quickly as it snapped up,
"No."
"Not even for his life? That seems all very selfish of you, does it not?"
"You have your potions, you are receiving assistance!"
"A potion didn't stop him from having to leave again, did it?" Dumbledore was almost over the desk in his face now.
"This is not our war!"
"But it is Severus' is it not?" The White haired wizard grabbed Slytherin's arm and pulled him in against the desk,
"So you will do as I say, or he will die!"
Salazar stared back in a mix of shock, fear and fury at the wizard's words and the nails digging deep into his forearm.
The door banged open and Godric swaggered in,
"Hey, Sal are you skiving off again?" he laughed before he turned to see what was happening at the desk.
Salazar turned to see his friend, but Dumbledore continued his hissing. Until Gryffindor charged him and grabbed him by the back of his robes, dragging the headmaster away.
"Don't you lay a finger on him!" He bellowed into the meddler's face and dragged him from the room.
On Godric's return he found Salazar slumped back in the chair, pale as a sheet.
"What was he saying to you?" He perched on the edge of the desk.
"What Severus does for the Order..."
"Make potions? That's hardly..."
"He spies on this Dark Lord, from the inner circle."
"oh..." Gryffindor frowned.
"Apparently this is the longest he's been away without sending word back that he was okay..." Salazar continued in a slight daze, a state that the mammoth of a man quickly clocked.
"Right, up with you," he heaved the potion master upright, " We'll have lunch back at your rooms, then you'll go for a wee rest before your and Helga's shift of Fireplace duty, that is if you think your up to it?"
Slytherin shrugged his friend's hand off,
"I'll be perfectly fine, I am perfectly fine." He dusted himself off and left off down the corridor to his suite, leaving Godric behind to follow.
It was going on two in the morning as the original Slytherin fixed the blanket back around him. It had been an uneventful night. They had played cards for a while, until Helga had dropped off to sleep, but his heart hadn't really been in it and she had won every game. He checked the clock for what felt like the millionth time and stifled yet another yawn. Salazar hadn't slept a wink. It wouldn't have done for Severus to arrive back and for no one to be able to help him. He shifted the blanket yet again and listened to the continuous ticking of the mantle clock and Helga's soft sleepy breaths, and felt his eyes grow heavy, but he snapped them back open and moved to sit on another chair, stoking the fire.
When he awoke at four, Severus was still gone.
