Nothing so simple
The next afternoon Remus finally saw a proper cauldron in the lab. He walked into the sunlit room finding no less than three of them on his working table, as well as a complete set-up on the other table. Severus wore his usual badly damaged lab robe, but this time without any visible sleeves underneath beyond the frayed cloth covering that Dark Mark, and his hair clipped back. It looked like serious work, and Remus was absurdly gleeful. At least there would be a break from cutting techniques and mental acrobatics.
Without formalities beyond a curt nod as a short greeting Severus came straight to the point.
"You have learnt a fair bit about the necessary basic techniques and time is running up. There is still enough Wolfsbane for the next full moon, but afterwards the stocks will be empty. I propose that you will slowly acquaint yourself with the formula, and then assist me in brewing."
It wasn't a question, but Remus still nodded, trying for all in the world to keep his demeanor composed and cool. In fact he was short of rubbing his hands together. He had been waiting for cauldrons and fire the whole time, it had been the part of Potions classes he had always loved most. A good spark, a roaring fire, the energy of the bubbling cauldron - it felt good, and he couldn't wait to do it again.
"Yes, fine with me. I've been waiting for the brewing process all along."
As usual Severus didn't take enthusiasm too well.
"Don't underestimate the value of proper basic instruction - but I see that's wasted on you. You'll receive the formula later today. First I want you to brew some simple potions so I estimate how useful you will be. And to make sure you're not going to burn the castle down."
Once more Remus nodded eagerly, causing Severus to sigh.
"Somehow I wish my students would be that excited. Another thing, though: you might remember that some ingredients are still missing. I'll apparate into Diagon Alley sometime the next week. If you'd like to accompany me, there are a few rather unusual resources I have to contact."
That was fine with Remus, and it triggered his curiosity once more.
"Unusual resources? Do you ever do anything just like everybody else?"
Involuntarily Severus grinned.
"I don't see any reason to." Then he turned around and walked to one of his own working tables, gesturing Remus to follow him.
"Before you will start working on your own potions you can either decide on a few variations you would like to brew using the books over there or stand by and watch while I'll be processing the Hyle. It still needs a few finishing touches before it can be used in the Wolfsbane."
Remus followed him, the decision being a rather easy one. He had read enough on Hyle to admire the intricacy of the procedure, and was more than interested in the process of refining the strange substance. He had a vague idea from what he had picked up from his books, but he still wasn't very sure how exactly it was supposed to work.
On the large table in the back of the room Remus recognized the small leather pouch holding the Hyle. But beyond that there was nothing but a large bowl, made of what seemed to be a very bright white stone, and a clean glass container with a lid. There was no trace of anything that could be set on fire, much to Remus' disappointment. Severus walked around the table and positioned himself behind it, facing Remus over the bowl.
"As soon as I start working you take a few steps back, nothing but a rather basic precautionary measure. Now, I've already told you a few things about Hyle, it's characteristics and production. Working with Hyle requires a good amount of concentration on the part of the alchemist, so I will explain things to you now and afterwards, but not during the process. You will remain absolutely silent, is that clear?"
Nodding in agreement Remus took a few steps back while Severus opened the leather pouch and produced another, much smaller bag. For a brief second Remus wondered if there'd be another, tiny bag inside the small bag and so on, but he decided to not voice this rather disturbing thought and instead concentrated on the explanation Severus offered.
"So, Hyle. For Wolfsbane it's needed in the stage before it becomes Materia Prima - I told you in Oxford. This - " he lifted the small pouch - "contains a tranquilized form of Hyle. That means the substance has been immobilized, so to say, and doesn't react to its immediate surrounding. If it weren't in that state it would constantly change its form. While working with it Hyle needs to be immobilized or frozen after every step of the process, otherwise it doesn't return to a stable condition."
He put the pouch down again and tapped against the bowl.
"Egyptian alabaster. Hyle in this stage reacts very strongly to metals and elements in wood, so it can't be processed in cauldrons. Alabaster is a rather weak heat conductor, but light-transmissive, so it can easily be saturated by magic, which of course has similar qualities to light. Still alabaster keeps magical energy well. On the downside it's very soft and extremely breakable. These bowls can sometimes only be used twice, or worse, they break on the first use. Alabaster is also dreadfully expensive and hard to find. Libavius uses marble bowls for exactly that reason, but marble is naturally cold and needs a higher amount of magic until it reaches full saturation, which is why I prefer Alabaster."
For a moment Severus turned the bowl on the table before he looked up. "You can already see that every master has their own way of doing things."
Then he held the bowl up again the window. The fine material seemed to lighten up in the rays of the sun coming in through the windows, and it appeared as if the alabaster immediately developed its own glow.
"I'm not surprised. Can I touch it?"
Denying the request Severus turned the bowl around again and replaced it to its proper spot on the table.
"Did you read up about specific levels of magical saturation in the laboratory? You can touch it when the work is done. It must not have traces of external energy on it right now, and I cannot exclude the possibility that you're not fully containing your magic. That would be too risky."
Remus could even point out the exact page in his book dealing with magical saturation and he was fairly sure his magic wasn't leaking out of his hands - he had never had issues with spontaneous magical displays, unlike many other wizards and witches - but he couldn't deny that Severus attitude of better-safe-than-sorry made sense.
"I see. In any case it is rather beautiful."
Severus nodded.
"Yes, alabaster is an exceptionally beautiful material. This bowl is sturdy, by the way. I've been using it for a few month now, and so far it holds up well. Sometimes fragile things are stronger than we think."
He turned the bowl on the table, slightly tracing the upper rim with his hands.
"Good. Here's what I will do, explained on a rudimentary level. The Hyle comes out of the bag into the bowl, and will start to transform immediately. Adding various types of magical energy it will change in specific ways. When it reaches the stage before it turns into Materia Prima it will be restabilized, and stored in a clean glass container. Questions?"
"No, but surely afterwards."
"Good." Without further ado Severus opened the small leather pouch, and shock it. A small cube, about the size of a comon cube used for a game of dice, fell into the bowl.
It looked like ordinary yeast.
Surprised Remus blinked and sniffed, but he couldn't pick the slightly moldy smell up. Apparently it only looked like yeast, and Remus only stopped himself just so from voicing his thoughts. Instead he watched Severus hold a hand over the bowl, apparently lifting the spell that had kept the Hyle immobilized.
And it started transforming immediately, though at first rather slowly. The cube started to crumble, slowly turning into a sandlike dust. All the time Severus kept his left hand suspended over the bowl, watching the transformation process with visible concentration. When the whole cube had dissolved into dust, filling just the bottom of the bowl he moved quickly, and scooped the dust into his hand.
Turning his now closed fist around Remus waited for the dust to fall back into the bowl. For a second nothing happened. Then Remus felt a sudden change in the magical atmosphere in the lab. Severus opened his fist and tiny balls fell into the bowl, translucent like a crystal, making a distinct clicking sound as they hit the wall of the alabaster bowl. It looked a bit as if Severus had turned the dust into glass marbles, only that the marbles now falling back into the bowl immediately transformed once again. Touching each other they merged together, growing noticeably in size.
Once more Severus reached into the bowl and picked up the still growing balls that now hardly fit into his hands any longer. Turning the bowl with his bandaged right hand he threw them back into the bowl, one after the other. On contact with the bowl they seemed to burst, leaving a muddy liquid running down the walls of the bowl. And immediately Remus understood why Severus kept on turning the bowl: soon every section of the bowl was covered in the liquid, which suddenly shifted it's colour and turned into a bright gleaming silver that made Remus suddenly feel very uncomfortable.
Making sure that every part of the bowl was covered by the silver layer Severus placed both hands around the bowl, as if he were about to lift it up. Remus wondered whether he was actually heating up the bowl, but in any case he was adding magical energy to the process. The thick silver layer suddenly seemed to turn runny, dripping down the walls of the bowl and collecting at the bottom. Then it came to a boil, thick smoke rising. But the smoke didn't get far: it clashed against an invisible barrier just above the bowl, condensed, and dripped back into the bowl.
That seemed to be the longest part of the process. The liquid kept on boiling, vapour rising up, condensing, and dripping back down. It became more and more clear, and after a while there seemed to be no visible difference between the Hyle and pure water. That was the moment when Severus removed his hands from the bowl, moved them in a motion as if he was racing the perimeters of the bowl, apparently freezing the whole ensemble. Taking the glass container he very carefully poured the now liquid Hyle into it, covered the container with a lid, cast another noiseless spell Remus only recognized by his hand movements, and then looked at the container for another moment.
Nodding and visibly relaxing he looked up.
"That went well. Hyle can be erratic, you never know if things won't suddenly go wrong. But Libavius did a good job on this, as he always does. You look as if you do have questions."
That was an underestimation, but Remus didn't need to enlighten Severus about it. Instead he simply grinned and then bombarded Severus with questions for the next thirty minutes. Displaying a surprising amount of patience Severus answered them all, sometimes having to simplify complicated alchemical processes to help Remus understand something. He lectured Remus about the various stages the Hyle had gone through, the necessary spells and temperature adjustments, and even complimented Remus on his keen perception.
Finally he pointed to Remus' own working table.
"Time for you own work."
Fired up by watching the complicated process and ready to tackle something himself Remus grinned and marched over to his own table. Shaking his head Severus opened the first two buttons of his lab coat and followed him, not without making sure once more that the jar holding the Hyle was properly closed.
"Were you that eager in class? And have you ever produced concentrated extracts from herbs?"
Remus had, years ago in the class just mentioned. And he had been really good at it.
"Don't pretend you don't remember I gave you a good run for your money. Was that in our sixth or seventh year?"
On Remus' table the cauldrons and prepared herbs were already waiting for him.
"Now that you mention it. My current students do it in their fifth year, we did it in our sixth."
Suddenly the amount of energy the work with Hyle required seemed to show. Instead of remaining standing at Remus' working table Severus pushed a few books aside on his own makeshift desk and rather gracelessly sat down. Rubbing his forehead with one hand he waved loosely into the general direction of Remus' table.
"The book is open, go ahead. Three herbs, three cauldrons, and work precisely."
It was almost shocking how tired Severus suddenly looked, with deep lines around his eyes and tightly set jaw, as if he needed a large amount of concentration to even stay awake. But Remus knew better than to inquire, and went to work. And it wasn't a problem, with the open book, his own knowledge and the rare remark here and there Severus bestowed on him. Working calmly he produced three extracts out of the herbs on the table, all of which were to be used in the Wolfsbane. When he was done he transferred the now extracts to prepared glass containers, cleaned his working space and neatly labeled the jars.
Enjoying the confidence coming with success he returned from the storage room where he had placed the jars on the appropriate shelf, next to rows and rows of similar containers labeled in Severus' own pointed script. Remus was delighted that he was still able to brew on his own and at least on the level of a good student, something he hadn't been too sure of. In the laboratory he found Severus staring motionlessly into the space before him. He looked as if he was fighting sleep, and when Remus coughed into his sleeve he veritably startled and slowly pushed himself off the table.
"That wasn't even half bad."
Knowing a compliment when it came from Severus all Remus did was nod.
"I enjoyed the work. You look as if someone had accidentally summoned you from the dead."
Rubbing his temples Severus shrugged.
"Charming. The amount of magic Hyle requires is taxing at the best of times. Right now - but it doesn't matter. I promised you something."
Turning around he retrieved a parchment roll from his desk and held it to Remus, who took it immediately. Examining it he spotted the seal, but had no time to break it.
"That's the - recipe?"
The facial expression in Severus' face was priceless, the exhaustion suddenly making room for utter horror, as if Remus had just compared the Wolfsbane to a chocolate cake. With sprinkles. Though with Severus they would have to be silver and green, probably.
"Formula, or alchemic notation. Read it. You will not understand it, it's too complex and you're not a trained potions master. But small pieces should make sense to you, and it would be useful if you could develop a grasp of the very basic construction. The arithmetical base is included, too, but don't let that bother you. Simply keep it."
Then he examined Remus, and his voice took on a more urgent tone.
"Be aware that you're holding truly extraordinary knowledge. There are only four of these complete notations in existence. Technically the formula is my property, but that's something we shouldn't dwell upon. Remember what I told you in Oxford. This is something you have to guard closely, that you might have to protect one day."
Now holding the parchment roll more carefully Remus nodded, feeling as if he was supposed to raise a hand and swear an oath.
"I understand, and I will be careful. Thank you. I'll see you at dinner?"
Outside the windows the sun was already setting, and suddenly Remus felt tired from his work. How long had he been in the lab? Brewing certainly made one forget about the time.
"Probably not."
Already used to Severus being reclusive and knowing it was no use to try and coax him out of his rooms Remus simply nodded and went to leave the laboratory.
"You should take a rest. I'll see you tomorrow."
Severus didn't reply, but as Remus left the laboratory he saw him sitting down again on his desk rather promptly. But Remus' mind was elsewhere. The parchment roll in his hands felt like a treasure, and although he was tired he couldn't wait to break the seal and examine the recipe. Formula. Alchemic notation.
The setting sun cast long shadows into the hallways, the golden light seeming to turn into pools of liquid gold on the stone floor. The air in the corridors was warm and soft, caressing Remus' skin. He loved these summer evenings, the heat still sitting smugly, only to be disturbed by cooler evening air when the sun would be gone. Involuntarily smiling he leisurely strolled down the stairs to his own private quarters.
His good mood was unexpectedly disturbed when he arrived there. Leaning against his door was Sirius, and from his brooding face he didn't seem to share Remus' joyful mood.
"Where the hell have you been? I've searched high and low for you."
He followed Remus into his private quarters without waiting for an invitation.
"In the lab, brewing extracts from herbs. It worked perfectly, you cannot know how pleased I am. I'm even better than I used to be in school."
But Sirius didn't seem to care about these things.
"Splendid, good for you. And I spent all day bored to death. I've got so few days in Hogwarts before I've got to leave again or turn into a dog, and you waste them in the dungeons with that sour bastard?"
The attack came entirely unexpected. It seemed that Sirius had been annoyed for a while, and now the thunderstorm erupted over Remus' head.
"What are you even talking about?"
But Sirius wasn't finished. With his fists on his hips he glared at Remus.
"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about. You're in the library or in the lab all the time, reading or working on these boring potions things. And that's not even your subject! When do you think you'll prepare your own lessons? And what about our summer plans? Why the are you suddenly spending so much time with that bloody Snape, seriously, what's the matter with that?"
Remus stared at him, considering drastic measures for a second.
"Have you lost your mind or are you jealous? You know exactly that I need the wolfsbane, and thus Severus. This is important beyond anything for me."
Sirius made a noise as if he wanted to spit on the floor.
"I don't trust the fuckmuppet, and you know exactly why. He'll betray us all, just you wait for it. He's misleading all of you, the entire order, Albus, why the hell are you even trusting that - that asshole? You can't take the monster out of a man, never."
It was Sirius' habit to let his tongue run away with him, and he always realised his mistakes far too late.
"So maybe it's more about me finally finding someone like me."
Lifting his chin Remus fixed him with a cold glance, trying to hide sudden rage. Lifting his hands Sirius shock his head.
"You know I didn't mean to say - "
Remus interrupted him brutally.
"You never mean anything. You didn't mean it when you send him into the Shrieking Shack all those years ago, and you nearly killed us all with that. Leave. Now."
Pointing towards the door he silenced Sirius half-formed reply with nothing more than a glance.
"No. You will leave now, and maybe you'll consider next time what a monster really is. Get the hell out of my rooms."
Realising the uselessness of his attempts to explain himself Sirius shrugged, turned around and left as he had been ordered. When the door closed behind him Remus carefully exhaled, willing his clenched fists to relax. Fighting with Sirius always got him to the edge quickly, and he was glad that his wand had been tucked away safely. He wasn't a violent man, never had been, but these days his patience seemed to run up far quicker than usual.
Sighing he crossed into his rooms and sank down on his sofa, leaning back and staring at the ceiling. It could have been such a splendid evening, and then Sirius had to indulge in a sudden fit of jealousy and dig up the old issues. Would that never heal?
And then Remus remembered the things Severus had said on the astronomy tower, his musings on vengeance, on paying back what one had to suffer with equal violence. Loosing himself in a train of thought Remus stared up to the intricate woodwork in his ceiling.
The monster, Sirius had said, could never been removed from the man, and Remus was fairly sure that it wasn't only Sirius opinion. Nobody could not notice the glances, the whispered comments, the endless bickering. The open and the hidden hate, Severus' position nothing but a fragile construct build on Albus' acceptance and protection.
Remus had never wondered about that, and he couldn't blame anybody else for not thinking about it. Severus was like a closed door, a room locked with a key discarded into a fast river. A smooth façade where nothing stuck, whatever you threw against it. There was always a quick retort, a sharp-witted reply, words meant to hurt and a standing invitation to battle. He did nothing to discourage their opinion. Not that it wasn't obvious that all they saw was a carefully constructed image, a persona Severus assumed, a defined role the world could judge him upon. But people didn't like to second-guess what they thought they knew, and his every word was only gasoline on fire.
A monster, that's what they thought he was.
And what did they say about Remus, behind his back, when nobody else was there? They had reassured him that they were glad he was there, Lycanthropy just another part of him, nothing serious. He was a good man, and they told him so. It wasn't his fault, after all, he hadn't willingly succumbed to this life. It hadn't been his choice. And he wasn't dangerous, with the Wolfsbane turning the beast into something far more agreeable, albeit still quite ugly.
Leave it to the man who was a monster to turn the other man who was a monster into something - human?
Brilliant.
Feeling the sudden need to think somewhere else Remus got up and, not knowing what to do, decided to take a shower. The shower was a good place to think, after all.
Minutes later his clothing was but a chaotic pile on the ground, the water running down his shoulders. Inhaling the scent of his shower gel, fresh mint and bergamot, his mind went back to his former train of thought, his fingers tracing the pattern of lines in his skin, thick scar tissue marking him forever.
These questions weren't new, of course. He had been thinking about these things for a long time, maybe for the first time when he had been a teenager. As they had been for everybody the years between his thirteenth birthday until his graduation from Hogwarts had been a time of searching. But when everybody else had certain defined fields they worried about - girls, muscles, sex, school, in that order - Remus' inner life had been a chaotic mess. The usual problems never really touched him. What use was a well-toned torso for him? Sirius took his shirt off as soon as the snow started to melt, but Remus carried his true character engraved into his skin, an ugly net of pain and fear. How could he explain that, or his monthly vanishing to a girlfriend? Or a boyfriend, for that matter? He could have worried about school, but his grades had always been good. He was an avid student, someone who loved books and learning.
With the years things had gotten better. He'd found friends, people who liked and understood him, even without Wolfsbane. The scars on his body never went away, though. Poppy had told him that dark magic left traces on the body of its victims, proof it had been there. But he got used to the scars, ugly as they were, accepting them just as he had learned to accept the feeling of the moon breaking his bones. They were a part of him, as was the wolf - the dark raging creature, the monster he had finally tamed with nothing but a goblet of disgusting liquid.
Turning off the water he stepped out of the shower, the steam filling his bathroom. Drying himself he wiped the mirror. His own face stared back at him, nothing if not a familiar sight. He still looked old, much older than he was. Those dealing with lycanthropy hardly ever reached an old age. They died early, broken in body and spirit, succumbing to their own instincts, or killing themselves. It was so odd that a potion could have given him so much silly hope.
He turned away from the mirror in a sharp movement. Dressing in a fresh t-shirt and boxer shorts he made his way back into his living room, combing through his wet hair with his hands.
The parchment roll was still lying on the couch, and Remus picked it up in passing and walked into his study. Seating himself at his desk he turned the roll in his hands.
The material seemed simple, but of high quality, and the seal was large, pressed into dark green wax. He studied the tree bearing a single apple for a moment before he broke it, feeling his still lingering anger turning into something akin to excitement.
It looked like a recipe for cake. Remus wasn't sure whether he was supposed to be surprised or not, but it really looked as if he had taken a page out of his mother's recipe notebooks, maybe the one where his mother had noted the necessary steps to prepare a complicated, lavishly decorated wedding cake. Just that Severus' script had nothing in common with the neat little handwriting of Remus' mother. For a moment Remus just stared at the writing. His own father would have called that a character script, no doubt. The letters in dark ink were gently curved, lavishly traced on the page. This was no quick note, and the careful penmanship - so unlike the cursive Severus' usually used - betrayed it. It was legible, but just barely.
But a few minutes later Remus could read the writing with only minor problems, and he started to work his way through the first page. The list of ingredients seemed to be never-ending, but he had worked with most of them in the past weeks, had learned how to cut and prepare them or at least seen them once. The first ingredient was the Hyle, with the comment 'Gradus 1. ante materia prima' written in parenthesis behind. Then there were the herbs and various other ingredients, some of them ostensibly liquid from the way the amount needed was noted.
The explanation of the brewing process, on the contrary, was rather short. The ingredients had to be added in descending order as they were indexed above, and the text mostly contained strange abbreviated information pertaining the necessary magical potencies, ways and times of stirring required, temperatures and necessary cooling times, warnings about vapours and possible volatile moments as well as descriptions about the colour of the potion and the rising smoke. The final paragraph explained how the finished potion had to be tested before it could be administered, ensuring the quality and function. And, finally, a small sentence underneath it all, written in a different script but with the same ink, so small Remus almost couldn't read it: Ita ius esto, de manu propria. It was signed with Severus' full name, including his titles as Remus had seen them in the visitors' book in St. Aurelius.
The very last page included an indecipherable amount of arithmetic symbols and numbers, and Remus concluded that this probably was the real thing - the arithmetical part Severus had spoken about. There was no need for Remus to read it. He wouldn't understand it anyway, he noted without feeling bad about it.
So he returned to the first pages, reading them again and again, using his own notes, the Alchemy book and the literature he had taken from the library to make sense of what he was reading. It wasn't easy, but very slowly things started to fall into place, and Remus felt that there was actually a small chance of him understanding it one day. Not tonight, though. Carefully he copied the formula into his notebook, trying to truthfully write down the strange abbreviations just like the undecipherable arithmetic notation. It might come in handy one day to have a second copy, stored away for his own use.
When he was done night had fallen outside his windows. Sitting back and stretching his shoulder muscles he wondered about dinner, but then decided to take it in liquid form and retreated to his sofa with a tumbler of the fine whiskey Minerva had given him for his last birthday.
The amber liquid was strong, burning his tongue and mouth, and Remus felt as if it was taking away some of his prior thoughts as well, cleaning his head. The night outside his windows was soft, yet dark, and the moon was on its way to become Remus' worst antagonist once more. If he carefully took inventory of his own body he already felt the wolf stirring slightly underneath his skin. But it wasn't bad, not yet. The pain hadn't come already.
Sipping his whiskey in the relaxed comfort of his living room Remus lost himself in thought again. It had been a strange summer so far, so different from everything he had anticipated. But who could have foreseen that he would spent a night in an opium den with an ex-Death Eater and then turn into an assistant of the same man? It was absurd.
Refilling his glass he smiled. A monster, Sirius had said. Well, if one asked Remus he'd say that he knew a thing or two about monsters. About what a monster was. And if Sirius had asked him he would have told him that killing, even in cold blood, didn't turn a man into a monster. Into a murderer, yes. But not into a monster.
But really, if it just were that simple. If there were a clear line between good and bad, between dark and bright. He knew he would have liked that himself. You belong there, I belong here, let's fight this out. One was a monster, the other a man, and if the man won it was a victory for all of them.
But what if the man was the monster, and the monster - but then Remus' tumbler was empty again. The whiskey dripped down his throat, no longer burning. It tasted heavy and warm, liquid smoke and honey. Smiling at nothing in particular Remus sat back. Oh yes, if life were easy! If things were simple. But they weren't, had never been. Would never be.
Here be monsters, they had written on old maps, on the areas where nobody had ever set foot. If you don't know it presume it as dangerous. Where did monsters live these days? Just to make sure Remus checked underneath the sofa, but the only thing there was a colony of dust bunnies. The only resident monster in these rooms was he himself. And in the castle? The tumbler was empty again. Refilling it one last time and downing the alcohol Remus let himself fall back into the pillows.
His thoughts, so clear and concise before, now seemed to be a wet mess of fur, drenched in whiskey and helplessly entangled. Staring up at the ceiling he smiled without knowing why. Here be monsters, yes. Why not. Even they needed a place to live, didn't they? Not everybody could play for the lucky team of man. There had to be monsters.
Smiling brighter at nothing in particular he closed his eyes, just for a moment, and promptly fell asleep.
(c) Fayet - 14/10/2014 (revised 18/10/2015)
Ita ius esto, de manu propria - and so it is rightly/correct, done by the hand of (from roman law, claiming the correctness of procedure, pertaining law of ownership)