Science and Magic

by MrsRJLupin

Cecilia Frobisher is a muggle who has been employed by Dumbledore to work on a potion for Harry to defeat Voldemort. What happens when she is forced to work with Snape? There is a completed sequel to this fic and 3/4 through the last story as of April 18. Feel free to download the audio from my Youtube Playlist: MrsRJ Lupin (a space between RJ and Lupin)

11. Research Unravelled

DISCLAIMER: ALL OF THE CHARACTERS AND SCENARIOS BELONG TO JKR AND/OR WARNER BROS.

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"Ah, Harry, good morning, yes, do come in," said Dumbledore. He smiled as Harry entered his portable study, which he had sited just underneath the stairs in Grimmauld Place.

"What was it you wanted to see me about?" asked Harry, looking uncertain.

"Please sit down," continued Dumbledore, and gestured towards some pumpkin juice on the table. Harry shook his head.

"It's about Mrs Frobisher, isn't it?" he said, when Dumbledore hadn't answered his question.

"What do you think of her, Harry?" Dumbledore began to pace before the fireplace.

"That wasn't what I expected you to ask me, Professor," admitted Harry. "I'm not sure what you're asking me, sir…"

"Your opinion of her, Harry. For example, do you like her?" Harry looked back at Dumbledore, who continued to pace, ducking sideways momentarily as the books on the shelves by the fireplace pulled themselves out and restacked around him.

"Er, well…she's…OK…I think…" he relied uncertainly, wishing that he'd asked what Ron thought of her, and Dumbledore looked at him.

"Why do you think I asked you this question, Harry?"

"I dunno…not sure, really," he replied, then thought. Why has he asked me?

"Is it because she's a muggle, Professor?" he asked

"In part, yes," said Dumbledore. "You were brought up in a muggle household, with your aunt and uncle," he said, and Harry rolled his eyes. Don't remind me, he thought.

"So you are aware of what muggles can and cannot do in terms of their ability," said Dumbledore.

"I suppose so," said Harry, well and truly lost now.

"Would you agree with me if I were to say then, that some muggles are intelligent, and have abilities and talents far and a way in advance of other muggles?"

"Yes, I suppose so. I mean, its like comparing..." he paused, trying to work out if he dare make the comparison, but decided to go for it anyway, "Gregory Goyle to...er...you…" he said, ignoring Dumbledore's raised eyebrow. "Or if you're talking about muggles, my cousin Dudley to…" he paused, "someone like Stephen Hawking…" Dumbledore looked at him, questioningly.

"Steven Hawking is a very intelligent muggle," explained Harry, and Dumbledore stopped pacing to look at him.

"You see my point, Harry. Which is why we chose Mrs Frobisher, out of a multitude of different muggles, to work with Professor Snape." He paused, allowing the message implicit in the statement sink in.

"Last Saturday, if you are not already aware of this information from other means Harry, she became the first muggle member of the Order of the Phoenix. The reason I believed she should join was, first and foremost, to become accustomed to our ways, as she will, for several months hence, be working with Professor Snape." Dumbledore began to pace again, and Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Is this about Sirius?" asked Harry. "I saw her when she was unconscious…and, er...I heard Mrs Weasley say it was only because of luck she didn't die…" Dumbledore nodded.

"Whatever Sirius may have said to you Harry, she is not a threat or danger to you. Indeed, it was quite wrong of him to treat her so appallingly. You see we need Mrs Frobisher, we need her to investigate muggle science, with the purpose of discovering why Lord Voldermort was not able to kill you when you were a baby. With this information, we then intend to develop a means to defeat him."

"Why are you telling me all this, Professor?" asked Harry suddenly, wondering why Sirius had been so guarded when they had spoken. "What has this got to do with me?"

"The hope is that Professor Snape will be able to use the information Mrs Frobisher provides to create a weapon to defeat Voldermort. In order to do that Mrs Frobisher needs your input when you return to school. I know that this is your Owl year, but we will never have a chance like this again to defeat him."

"But Sirius…" insisted Harry, "He says she's…well…" he didn't really want to say to Dumbledore what Sirius actually had said about her, but Dumbledore appeared, with his usual incredible perception, to grasp what Harry was trying not to say...

"I have spoken to Sirius," said Dumbledore slowly. "He realises his actions were wrong and is ashamed. We are very fortunate to still have Mrs Frobisher after all of this." Harry nodded slowly.

"Therefore, I ask three things of you. Firstly, during the course of her work I wish you to co-operate with her. Should there be any reason that you cannot or wish not to, please tell her your reasons why. Secondly, she may ask you to give information about your mother and father. She is aware of the circumstances by which your parents met their deaths, which brings me onto my third point." He stopped pacing, and looked directly at Harry.

"Thirdly, and this is most important Harry, she is a muggle. The science she practices is the very reason she is with us. She may however find things difficult, especially being in a world so different to her own and she may at times appear naïve to our ways. She is, after all a muggle adult, and it is a real challenge for any of us to change." He paused, allowing the information to sink in before continuing.

"I am sure you remember what it was like in your first year, when you found out you were a wizard and therefore I expect a measure of understanding and empathy for Mrs Frobisher will follow."

Harry nodded again, taking it all in.

"Are there any questions?" Harry shook his head.

"Very well," replied Dumbledore, "That is all."

Just as Harry got to the door, Dumbledore spoke again.

"Oh, just one more thing before you go. We do not know yet where the research will lead; therefore whatever you discuss with her will remain confidential between you, for the sake of security. Considering the circumstances of last Saturday Harry, it would be only fitting that you show Cecilia the same courtesy."

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After a fitful night, Cecilia awoke, and wondered if she had overslept. I'd better hurry, she thought, or else I won't be able to get anything substantial done today, and hastily pushed the bedclothes off her.

It was only after she swung her legs out of bed, cursing aloud as she did so in response to the searing pain that the events of the last week occurred to her, and she flopped back down on the bed.

She swore under her breath as she steadied herself, and random snippets of the last few days flitted past her head. What am I doing here, she thought to herself, looking round the room. Is it really worth all this? Isn't it strange, said another voice in her head, that you're so familiar with this place, though? It doesn't seem like a moment's passed since you was here…

Mulling this thought over, Cecilia got up steadily this time, scrutinising her appearance. Urgh, you look disgusting! she concluded. She was still in the clothes she had Floo'd in the afternoon before, she considered what had gone on, and considered how strange it was that, after she had been so excited about seeing Tonks a week ago, she had never been gladder to get away from Grimmauld Place and back here.

Cecilia looked round the room again and thought about what had happened since she had hurried so quickly to pack and leave. She'd wanted to get away so badly then, to see Tonks and the others. What if she had stayed put? Well she wouldn't have been in this state, for a start.

Her gaze caught a pile of washing stacked high on her chair in the corner, and she remembered how she'd been unable to leave anything around for more than two seconds before Dobby had whisked it all off to be washed. That was until he'd discovered what happens when you try to wash potassium...

Oh Dobby, she thought, thank you, as she took a towel off the pile and headed towards the bathroom, considering how odd her life had become that the elf had had an impact on her life. What struck Cecilia as most bizarre however, was feeling happy to be back. In a magic school, of all places.

As she ran the tap in the sink, she noticed something scribbled on what she recognised as a page from the back of lab notebook, propped by the taps. She stared at it for a few minutes before she realised that it was a message.

"To Lady," she read, squinting to read the small, spidery writing. "To make the bath Lady".

Cecilia frowned. It was clearly from Dobby; he was the only...person...who called her "Lady". But what did he mean? She turned round, scanning the room. She hadn't noticed that the huge bath was full with hot foamy water. Thank you, Dobby, she thought gratefully, and carefully took off her clothes, discarding them quickly.

"Look at the state of you!" exclaimed her reflection, making Cecilia jump and almost fall in as she neared it. She turned and gasped when did see the state of herself. Although she'd had a bath at Grimmauld Place, she hadn't lingered long, but it wasn't surprising that she felt so bad: in addition to the huge bruise covering her left arm, it extended all the way down her left-hand side to her hip and down her outer thigh; the purple hue fading now to a gaunt yellow. She had a cut on her right shoulder too and when she relaxed her tricep, pain coursed through it.

A rush of self-pity overcome her briefly and, shaking slightly she got into the bath. The heat of the water and the humidity began to work immediately on Cecilia's tense muscles, melting her emotions too. But she still could not think rationally about Sirius Black, or her stay to his home...nor Remus, come to that. But at least Sirius had the decency to express his feelings, she thought, massaging her neck.

Hang on a minute, another part of her mind thought, breaking in on the main event. Are you seriously trying to tell yourself that what he did was justifiable?

No, rebuked the first part. I don't even know if I'm still a member of the Order of the Phoenix. You are, said a third part. Dumbledore said so.

Hold on, hold on, thought Cecilia, trying to put in order the bits of her mind feeding her information all at once. So, if I'm still a member, I suppose I'm expected to go to meetings. Well I'm not ready to go back there, not yet anyway. I'm such an idiot, sometimes. If only I hadn't been beguiled by his charming manner. Exhaling, she pulled her knees up to her chest slightly and massaged her legs, easing the tension in her calves.

But what about Remus? she thought suddenly. Why had he been so insistent in her staying at Grimmauld Place?

While Cecilia had been off analysing her feelings about Sirius Black, she hadn't noticed that Remus Lupin had metaphorically strolled in through the back door of her cerebellum, sat down in the comfiest armchair and put his feet up...

Remus...why wouldn't her mind settle about him? Leaning over for the shampoo, Cecilia tried to think why she couldn't let go of this man. Was she angry with him because he wanted her to stay? Yes, she decided, in part, and massaged the blob of shampoo she had squeezed onto her palm into her hair. Could he not understand she didn't want to be within a hundred miles of Grimmauld Place at the moment?

Yes she thought, ignoring the inappropriate feeling that was even now trying to make its voices heard over the cacophony of her consciousness. He'd wanted her to stay at Grimmauld Place...but...Cecilia worked the shampoo slowly into her hair as she thought...

...the way he held her hand when she was there...so gently, so tenderly...the way he looked at her...how couldn't he know that she needed to leave and continue her work with Severus?

That was it, wasn't it? Of course he didn't want her to return to Hogwarts! Rinsing her hair under the water until there were no bubbles left, she scolded herself aloud for not being quicker on the ball. Black hated Severus...Remus was sticking up for his friend!

She shampooed once more, and got out of the bath, drying herself carefully as she did so and vowing she would not spend any more time thinking about Remus Lupin. Regardless of the fact that he was even now leaving an indelible imprint.

Twenty minutes later and Cecilia was dressed and looking through her equipment and books, trying to remember where she had actually got with the analyses. She wondered what had been left in the potions dungeon, recalling the state it had been last Friday evening.

Looking round the room, she considered what was here, and tipped the contents of her travel bag onto the bed. She picked up "Magic and Muggles" and put it to one side, and placed on top of it the sheaf of notes she had made about genetics from it. The get well soon card that the children had made her drifted undulatingly onto the floor, and she tucked it into the back of "Magic and Muggles." Then her eye caught "Mysterious Mythology".

I should have just given this back to Remus before I left, she thought, picking it up and putting it on the desk. I doubt it'll be of any use now I've read through it all and made notes...

Turning to the pile of equipment in the corner she sorted through it and, deciding on a few, she packed them into a box. Wondering whether she should leave it and see what was actually still in potions, the door burst open and Dobby hurried in.

"Lady!" he yelled, hopping form one foot to another, and then frowned when he saw her lifting the box. "Lady must not be doing this. Dobby will take it," and he grabbed the box from her.

"Dobby!" said Cecilia smiling, . "Thank you for the bath, it was lovely." Dobby smiled back, and frowned again. Looking from left to right, he whispered,

"Dark wizards hurt Lady," said Dobby frowning again and looking from side to side. "But Lady is all right?"

"Yes, all right," agreed Cecilia, considering that being a dark wizard was probably quite an accurate description of Sirius Black last Saturday.

"And Harry Potter saved you!" said Dobby, exultantly, turning and walking quickly out of the door before Cecilia had time to interject. "Harry Potter freed Dobby, Lady. Harry Potter is a very powerful wizard..." he continued, and as Cecilia hurried to keep up him, was privy to exorbitant greatness of Harry Potter.

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Cecilia surveyed the potions dungeon as Dobby busily unpacked her paraphernalia. Sitting on the edge of one of the student benches, she considered all that had gone on here. Discounting Snape's loss of temper last week, she considered their working relationship passable, all things considered.

"...and Harry Potter, well! He handed the book back to Dobby's former master..." continued Dobby, as he placed some flasks on the bench in front of him. Cecilia looked over at Dobby, who had been recounting for the third time the story of how Dobby had been presented with clothes, and smiled.

"...and do you know what happened then Lady?" Cecilia smiled again and shook her head, so as to humour the elf. "He gave Dobby the book...and inside...was a sock!" Dobby grinned wildly, continuing to place her books on the shelf. Cecilia rose, and smiled down at him.

"Dobby," she said, picking up the potions she had been working on last week. "When I left last week, this place was in an awful state. Did you clean it all up?"

"No Lady," said Dobby, glancing down. "Dobby was going to, and even Winky thought Dobby had tidied the potions dungeon. But after what Lady said... and then…he did it…" he glanced form side to side, a fearful look in his eyes.

"Professor Snape?" finished Cecilia, a touch of incredulity in her voice.

"Yes," said Dobby. "But Dobby wanted to, Lady."

Severus, thought Cecilia, as she scanned the table. He'd grouped the potions she had tested to one side, and tidied the ingredients he knew she'd left out. It looked like he might even have tried finishing the ketolysis reaction she'd been halfway through, judging from the two ruined conical flasks in the corner, which had been stained an ugly mustard yellow colour and she felt her heart soften a little, imagining the foreboding, stone-faced wizard taking the trouble on her account.

"Dobby," said Cecilia carefully, turning to him as he stacked the last of her watch glasses under the bench. "Would you mind if I asked you about your life, when you were with the family you served?"

"No, Dobby would not mind," he said, and looked back at her expectantly. When he hadn't said anything for a few minutes, Cecilia recalled how literally he took things and said,

"When you were serving the family Dobby, what was your life like?"

"Oh Lady, it was dreadedful!" he exclaimed, in a low voice. "Really dreadedful. But Dobby was born at their home, Dobby was, and Dobby's mother was their house elf. So Dobby was their house elf, until Harry Potter freed Dobby..." he exclaimed, and his face brightened again as he mentioned his number one hero.

"Dobby had to do some dreadedful things," he continued, as Cecilia looked at him sympathetically. "The family were...were..." he glanced from side to side again with fear. "…they did things for You-Know-Who...horrible, dreadedful things...they made Dobby do them...they made Dobby...hurt muggles..." he glanced sideways at Cecilia, "...and put the Dark Mark in the sky" he shuddered and Cecilia felt quite sorry for him. Then the words "Dark Mark" triggered off some memories in her mind.

"What is the Dark Mark?" she asked.

"It is the mark of him...You-Know-Who...when he has done something, dreadedful..." he looked back down. "...they were on his side…and once a wizard has the Dark Mark they is on the side of You-Know-Who forever..." his voice trailed off, and he looked down. Cecilia decided not to press him any more, and glanced back at the bench of equipment and ingredients.

"Do you know where Professor Snape is, Dobby?" she asked, feeling a little disheartened that he hadn't so much as left her a note or told he when he'd be available again.

"The wizard of whom you speak," said Dobby nervously, "he is asking Dobby to tell Lady, he will be seeing Lady at the usual time tonight."

"Why didn't you say so before?"

"Well, Lady didn't ask!"

Cecilia sighed, feeling somewhat tired now. She surveyed the ingredients again and knew she had to take it easy else she wouldn't last the day. But...if she went back to her room again, she probably wouldn't sleep, and she'd probably end up dwelling on things...on people...on a certain someone...

"Dobby, would you like you help me test some of these today?" she asked, smiling at him again.

"Of course, Lady, if that's what Lady wants." He looked at her uncertainly. "But what about what Lady said before?" he looked earnestly at her again, and Cecilia thought hard about what she might have said to Dobby about her equipment.

"What did I say before?" she asked, at a loss.

"That Lady would break Dobby's fingers if Dobby touched anything on the bench again," he said. An image of when Cecilia had indeed said that formed in her mind and she thought about the three days' work on the algae cultures Dobby had destroyed by "helping cleaning up"!

"On this occasion Dobby," she said, relieving her aching muscles by sitting down heavily on a stool, "I'd definitely like your help."

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Three hours later, and lethargy was beginning to overcome Cecilia. Dobby had worked splendidly on the potions ingredients, following her instructions carefully, sometimes too carefully on some occasions, making sure he did everything that she'd said accurately.

Aside from Dobby's confusion when she'd asked for him to allow the flask to stand, and his determination to explain that he couldn't do this because it hadn't got any legs or feet, they'd actually got through quite a lot, and Cecilia had covered several dozen pages in notes.

They hadn't finished all she had intended however, but Cecilia had twice nearly dozed off where she sat, so she'd left it at that and returned to her room, thankful that Dobby had returned to the kitchens. Regardless of her fondness for him, Cecilia doubted whether she could have endured the "How Harry Potter Freed Dobby" story again.

She climbed the stairs in front of the Great Hall and, turning towards the teacher's corridor was surprised to see someone she recognised: Madam Pomfrey.

"Mrs Frobisher, thank goodness!" declared Madam Pomfrey. "Where have you been? I told Professor Snape that you needed bed rest for at least a day! And there you are, strolling round the castle as if you were as fit as a fiddle!"

"I do feel tired..." conceded Cecilia. "I was just going back to bed actually. I haven't seen Professor Snape all day, so I went down and did some work in the potions dungeon..."

"Well what a blessing I found you," admonished Madam Pomfrey. "If you had collapsed again, I just don't know what I would have said to Professor Dumbledore, I really don't!" She ushered Cecilia along the first floor corridor and into the hospital wing before Cecilia had time to protest.

"There, up there. Sit!" said Madam Pomfrey, pointing towards a bed as she bustled around the room, opening cupboards and pulling things out.

"There's really no need, I feel fine...but tired.." said Cecilia, yawning. "Besides, Madam Pomfrey, I thought no-one knew the effects of this on muggles?"

"They don't," she replied, pulling out a bottle with a peeling label and pouring its meagre contents into a glass. "Drat, nowhere near enough, I'll have to ask Profesor Snape for some more gentian root...no, you're quite right..." She walked back towards Cecilia, scrutinising the contents of another bottle through its neck.

"The effects of Veritaserum has never been seen on a muggle, because no muggle has ever survived, to my knowledge." Madam Pomfrey handed the glass of pale green liquid to Cecilia. She looked down at it, uncertainly.

"However, I have seen the effects of other potions on muggles, ones with fewer injuries than you..." she looked over a Cecilia, pointedly, and gestured her to drink what she had given her.

Cecilia looked back and eyes on Madam Pomfrey, she reluctantly took a sip. It tasted awful. "...and haven't done yourself much good, leaving where you were to come back here, you know, " she continued, scoldingly. "I would advise not eating anything until at least tomorrow, just to be on the safe side."

"What is it?" asked Cecilia, taking her second sip. It was worse than the first and though she'd never tasted cod liver oil, she had a sneaking suspicion the taste would not be dissimilar to this.

"It hasn't got a name, at least, one I could bring myself to tell you," laughed Madam Pomfrey. "It's a restorative," explained Madam Pomfrey, as she began to bustle around again. "If there is any Veritaserum left in your system still, that will stop your body absorbing any more."

"You were so lucky, Mrs Frobisher, that you hadn't eaten much last Saturday, or you would not be sitting there turning your nose up at my grandfather's potion." She sat down on the bed next to Cecilia.

"I'm sorry," Cecilia looked apologetically at her. "It's just...the last time I drank anything magical, well..." Madam Pomfrey nodded.

"It was the same for Pompops..." said Madam Pomfrey, smiling. "My grandfather. He was the healer at Hogwarts, many years ago. The trouble he had to give potions to muggleborn wizards, well! But, what you have there is his own recipe for muggles."

"He was a doctor too?" asked Cecilia, astonished.

"No, not formally, at least. Pompops always had an interest in muggles...an unhealthy one, my grandmother said. In his own small way though, I like to think of him as a pioneer. I used to go with him to muggle hospitals when I was very small, when he was treating them for magic-related injuries. That was until my mother decided it was unsuitable. If there's been anyone like him since, I've never heard of him." She glanced over at Cecilia as she yawned again.

"Lie back and rest here, Mrs Frobisher, the potion will probably make you sleep. But you'll feel better."

"What sort of things did he do?" Cecilia asked, kicking off her shoes and leaning back against the large cushions. "And how is that different to how wizards do it?"

"We cure colds, infections, viruses and the like with a potion, and that is that. Wizards are better, cured, can go about their day-to-day affairs. When muggles go through illnesses, it depends on the muggle themselves. They can sometimes die, for no apparent reason, and from muggle illnesses. Wizards are stronger. Constitutionally." She looked at Cecilia, patting her hand.

"My Pompops, he was a half-blood wizard but went to muggle school until he was ten. He was devastated when his best friend died of…polio?...a muggle illness of which I am sure you're aware. When he came to Hogwarts, he was already particularly gifted at potions and herbology, thanks to my great grandmother.

"When muggles began to become ill and die mysteriously, just as You-Know-Who's reign of terror began, Pompops used to go out to muggle hospitals to treat them. He was considered quite an eccentric."

"What sort of things did he do?" asked Cecilia. "How did he know what to treat them for?" Madam Pomfrey frowned slightly, then realisation dawned.

"Why yes of course. I wondered why you'd be interested, but yes, your work with Professor Snape..." She smiled at Cecilia.

"I couldn't honestly tell you, but he did keep his notes which I still have, somewhere. But now," she added, the tone of authority returning to her softened voice, "take the time to rest."

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When she awoke a few hours later, she realised she was alone in the hospital wing. Thankful that Madam Pomfrey wasn't there to order her back into bed she slipped back on her shoes and made her way back to her room just as the school clock gave five sonorations.

Severus will soon be here, she thought as she walked through high-ceilinged corridor towards the teachers' quarters. I'm so glad I didn't oversleep; I really would have been gutted if I missed out on work after all this.

As she turned the corner to the small corridor towards the bedrooms, she realised that despite her reluctance in drinking Pompops Pomfrey's potion, the dull but persistent ache actually wasn't troubling her.

Perhaps I'll speak to Madam Pomfrey again tomorrow those notes she was talking about, she thought, turning the old-fashioned ringed handle on the thick oak door.

Looking round the room that she'd left this morning, she decided to tidy the mess she had created whilst sorting out her books and equipment. I suppose the up side of magic is that "Mary Poppins" moment of tidying, she thought, making the bed properly and throwing her dirty clothes from that morning into a pile.

As Cecilia threw her jeans across, something fell out of the pocket. The letter from Libby. As the realisation grew, she stopped what she was doing and sat down on the chair before the desk, and pulled it open hurriedly, scanning the neat, handwritten lines.

"…and Freya won a school prize for being able to recite her times tables the fastest…Mrs Louis said that even she didn't know up to her 20 times table..." How like Freya and her competitive streak, thought Cecilia, smiling at the thought of her god-daughter standing up, bold as brass, in front of the rest of the school.

She looked up from the letter, taking in the colouring of what appeared to be a big purple stripy crocky-ducky-fish she knew Libby wouldn't have been able to stop Freya drawing on the back of it, and glanced further down to the last third of the letter, where she knew Libby would have put the thing that she considered most important.

Her chest tightened as she read, "…we are all missing you Cec, please call or write as soon as you can to let us know you are safe and well…"

Safe and well…

She stood up and began to pace, contemplating the events that had almost caused her not to be safe and well aloud. Once she had shared them openly with the four walls of her room, she wrapped them up neatly and placed them in a box at the back of her consciousness, deliberately adding a large metaphorical padlock to it to prevent her coming across them by accident.

Then she grabbed a piece of paper and began to write.

"Libby,

Thank you for your letter which was beautifully decorated by whom I trust is the next up and coming Turner Prize winner. The post here is quick, but my scattyness and usual singlemindedness towards work prevented me from actually finding your letter until this morning. It is proceeding well…"

She paused. Was that entirely true, she thought. Considering the context she was working in, she decided, it was.

"…although my research colleague is nothing like Nick. How is he, by the way? Have you seen him? How are mum and Amy? You ask about my returning for my birthday. I'll have to let you know. But hopefully. I apologise for not having called, the place is not connected, which is why I'm writing (please excuse the legibility). As to my safeness and wellness…"

Libby knows me too well to be fooled by what I write, thought Cecilia. Do I feel safe? At this particular moment in time, sitting here, writing this…yes. I feel perfectly safe.

Am I well? I feel much better than I did this morning. But still tired, and not quite yourself, another part of her mind chipped in. All right then.

"…I'm both safe and well, but tired. However, Mrs Elizabeth Louisa Mitchell, you'll be pleased to know that you were indeed right. I'd much rather be doing this than sitting at home feeling sorry for myself…"

There. She hated lying, or being economical with the truth to her best friend, but she knew what Libby would be like if she didn't hear from her, or worse, if she did and it was vague. And there might be more than a bit of trouble if Libby actually decided to visit the patent office looking for her…

Satisfied, Cecilia folded up the letter wondering where she would find an envelope amongst all her things and, as she turned she noticed an intense green glow in the fireplace.

"Hello?" she said, abandoning the letter on the table and getting up. As she did so, the glow imploded in on itself silently, leaving behind a void.

"Hello!" she shouted into the space where it had been. Just then, the door opened in response to her exclamation, and she looked up from her half-kneeling position before the fireplace.

"Remarkable," said Snape, as he eyed her critically. "I didn't even need to knock." He walked towards her, and proffered a hand to help her up.

"And such a ladylike position," he added, as she accepted his hand gratefully. "Would it be inappropriate to ask why you are down there, Mrs Frobisher, or is it a muggle ritual to which I am otherwise ignorant?" Cecilia smiled, brushing herself off as she got to her feet.

"Actually, I think it's one of your rituals. A wizard ritual I mean. I thought I saw…" she paused, wondering what she had seen, and her voice trailed off, not entirely sure what she had seen.

"I'm glad to see you are feeling better, at any rate. However Madam Pomfrey is most annoyed that you are not still in the hospital wing." He sat down on the bed, eyeing the half tidied room critically.

"Scourgify," he said, pulling out his wand and flicking it in the direction of her books and glassware. "Really," he said, admonishingly. "However, I did see the state in which you left the potions dungeon, so I'm not entirely surprised."

Cecilia sat down on the bed, much happier, if that was the appropriate word to describe her feeling, that Snape had actually turned up so they could do their work. Back to his usual sardonic self. Things were getting back to normal, then.

"Thanks for that," said Cecilia, smiling. "And thanks for looking at the keto reaction downstairs…" Snape looked over at her, one eyebrow raised.

"Well, if my colleague decides that wizard shopping in Diagonalley, then excusing herself on sick leave for a week is acceptable…" he looked at her, and Cecilia was almost sure he was attempting to express sarcasm, "…someone has to take the responsibility..."

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Half an hour later and they were back to where they were from their conversation yesterday at Grimmauld Place. Cecilia was amazed that he had remembered so much, and had been astonished when he's leafed through her books and papers, and began working on some questions she had copied out from a school textbook. She looked across at him reading through them, and frowning slightly when he was unsure of something and hadn't the heart to tell him they were from a SATs paper for 14 year olds.

"It makes sense," he said eventually, handing it back to her once he had finished. "The cells reproduce by copying themselves."

"It must happen in wizards, too," said Cecilia, looking through the answers. "There has to be enough identical DNA between wizards and muggles to allow reproduction to take place between us…" Snape looked up briefly. "You know what I mean…" she added, and continued.

"Which means there can only be one chromosome different. It has to be in the gametes otherwise we'd be completely different species."

"Chromosomes?" asked Snape, curiously. Cecilia leaned over and looked at the paper answers he had had his quill write next to he questions. She pointed to question eight.

"Here, " she said. "You answered this right. So you know they make up part of the cell." She scanned down to question eleven, which he'd left blank.

"Chromosomes, " she said patiently, "are what you said. They replicate themselves so the cells can reproduce. But the question here…" she pointed to eleven, "…refers to DNA. That is the chemical strand that makes up the chromosomes. In every person, it is different. Which is why everyone is different to look at."

"Twins," said Snape, looking coldly between Cecilia and her finger, still pointing at the unfinished question eleven answer.

"Twins? said Cecilia, shuffling round on the bed to get more conformable. "Yes, identical twins are the exception. They are identical to one another because their chromosomes have the same sequence of chemicals, so it means their appearance is the same. This happens in the gametes, so this is why I say the fact you are a wizard or not, in biological terms, is own to the chromosomes from wither your mother or your father." She sighed, and looked back at Snape, hoping that he would betray at least a flicker of understanding.

"So what you're saying is that inside each cell these chemical strands give us the features and characteristics we have?" Cecilia nodded. At last.

"So how then do you explain how some wizards can change their appearance, if their cells all reproduce the same and the give the same features each time?" He stood up, triumphant and stood, arms folded near the end of the bed. Cecilia sighed again.

"Well, that's the whole point, isn't it, Severus? I don't know why." She stood up quickly and regretted it; Madam Pomfrey's potion appeared to be wearing off.

"No-one has ever thought about in before. No muggle, anyway." She walked over to him. "Look, are there any records of work being done into this for wizards? Anything at all?" She looked pleadingly at him. Snape shook his head.

"Well," she said, walking back towards the desk. "If I had to hazard a guess I would say that for you to be able to do this magic...transfiguration…the DNA is the part that is altered. The sequence must be changed to something else for he features to be something else. And for muggles and wizards to be able to reproduce…and for muggle born wizards and squibs to exist…the chromosome must be gametian…" She tuned back to look at him.

"From the hypothesis I am working on, at any rate," she conceded. An ice age passed, then Snape inclined his head slightly. Cecilia looked back at him, coming to terms with her own astonishment that she had actually come out with something as profound as that. It made sense, she knew it did, but it was the first time she had ever drawn it all together. She surveyed the room for some paper to write this down.

"That actually does make sense, from your hypothesis," said Snape, watching her search round the room. "What are you looking for?"

"Paper. I need to get this down. I think it's important." She sat on the bed, and reached underneath for where she kept her notebook, then screamed as Snape pointed his wand at her, scrabbling to move out of the way.

"What!" exclaimed Snape, looking between Cecilia's horrified face from where she stood by the bathroom door and the new red-covered notebook on the bed where she had just been sitting. Cecilia sighed, and looked down.

"Sorry," she said quietly. "It was just…you pointed your wand at me…and…last week…" she looked back at Snape and returned to the bed, picking up the note book. Without meaning to she began to cry. Snape sat back down on the chair by her desk and said nothing waiting for her to finish.

"Thank you," said Cecilia quietly when she'd got it out of her system, wiping her face with the sleeve of her jumper. "Right, she said, swallowing. "Where were we?"

"You were discussing, Mrs Frobisher, about the hypothesis you were formulating about cellular reproduction in wizards. I do not believe any research has been done in this area, therefore your hypothesis may very well be correct." He looked back Cecilia, who had begun to write.

"I think the only way we can be sure if this is correct, is to check it. Are you free tomorrow evening, Severus? I'm going to need a volunteer." Snape got up.

"Yes, that will be fine. I'll meet you down at the potions dungeon at six. I think our work has begun to take us in the right direction." Cecilia nodded in agreement.

"Thank you again," she said, smiling wanly.

"For what?"

"For giving a silly muggle a second chance?"

"Well, silly muggle," said Snape, handing her a transparent potion bottle containing more of the green liquid Madam Pomfrey had made her drink earlier that day. "Your penance. Good night."

And with that, he left, leaving Cecilia alone to pull together all that they had discussed.

88888888

The next day passed quickly as Cecilia prepared for an experiment. She had assembled just about every piece of glassware, tubing, instrumentation and books in the potions dungeon. Usually this would only have taken her about an hour, but Dobby was keen to assist as ever and because her mind was focused on the set-up, when she looked up to check something or make sure a base had reacted, she found she had to undo Dobby's efforts and put them together correctly.

Unlike many researchers, who allowed techs to set up for them, Cecilia was unusual even in the muggle world because although it took her time, she found she could think clearer about the work at hand if she had a routine task to perform.

At 3pm she was finished, which was enough time to eat the sandwich Dobby had made for her and she spent a considerable amount of time enjoying the cheese and Branston pickle sandwich, her first real food in over a week.

"Thank you," she said to Dobby when she finished. "I really enjoyed that."

"Thank you, Lady," replied Dobby, magicking away her plate as she surveyed the experimental setup for the ninth time.

"Dobby feels proud to help Lady, because Dobby knows she fights Dark Wizards. But Dobby must leave now. Dobby has to help Winky and Bingo in the kitchen. We have a lot to prepare for next week." With that, he left, and Cecilia looked around again, pondered the premise again for which she had spent the whole day preparing.

It went like this. If she was right, and wizard cells performed mitosis in the same way as muggle cells, this would mean that the way in which muggles and wizards differed was not genetically. In fact this would not only mean they were genetically similar, hence the ability for muggle-born wizards and squibs to be born, it would also mean that the difference between them was something other than inheritance.

If however, mitosis did not take place, then they'd have to come up with another hypothesis as to how muggle born wizards actually did come about. Looking around for a final time, she yawned again and decided to take a walk outside before Snape arrived.

The late afternoon sun felt warm and soothing on Cecilia's face. Normally, she hated the sun, especially in the early summer months, where she'd burn mercilessly.

The grounds were as lovely as she had remembered them when she'd sat out reading "Mysterious Mythology", and she followed the path by the side of the school and down towards the lake.

I've still got a couple of hours before he arrives, she thought as she walked over the roofed bridge between the main castle and the owlery, and it occurred to her that she'd been so busy she'd forgotten to send her reply back to Libby.

Ascending the wide stone steps, Cecilia considered the events of the previous evening. How embarrassing that she should get so upset, she thought. But he didn't get annoyed or frustrated. We continued to discuss about work, and he didn't slate me as being a weak muggle, even when I was clearly acting like one.

As she got to the top, she selected a brown school owl, and carefully tied the letter to Libby round its leg, trying to avoid the pecks of which she was the target for disturbing it from its otherwise restful afternoon.

Heaven knows what he's going to say when I have to ask him for a blood sample though, thought Cecilia, as she climbed back down the stairs. Its all right to say that we agreed in principle yesterday, but another matter entirely if he refuses to believe the evidence before him.

Well if he refuses a sample at least I can show him my own. But that won't validate the hypothesis though, she thought as she headed towards cool shade of the forest. I think once he sees what I'm trying to prove I'm sure he'll understand the importance of it all she thought. And then that's all I can do.

Putting it aside her imperfect plans, Cecilia turned her attention to the beautiful environment around her. She felt much better even that yesterday, which can only be a good thing, especially considering the fact that she relegated Madam Pomfrey's potion to the bottom drawer of her desk untouched.

She descended the hill towards the lake, the beguiling colour of the flowers and plants festooning the ground layer and birds circled high overhead. What a lovely way to spend a few hours she thought absently, and headed towards the forest edge.

So caught up in her own thoughts Cecilia had not heard the footsteps approaching from behind an when two very large hands picked her up from the very ground she was standing on and hoisted he over a shoulder, the shocked scream she had intended to convey fell flat.

"Hold on, young hoyden, you," boomed the voice belonging to the hands and shoulder. "'Ere, stop struggling, you 'aint 'arf giving me a nuisance, strollin' off inter the Forbidden Forest..."

Recovering herself, but unable to move form the position in which this giant of a man was holding her, Cecilia screamed again. What on earth was this? And what was he going to do with her?

"Quieten down, lass, there's no need for that. Look, I just saved yer from a fate worse'n death." Still holding her, he strolled back up the hill as Cecilia struggled, stopping when he reached the hut she had noticed when she had walked past earlier, and unshouldered her.

"Now then," he said, putting her down in front of him. "Perhaps you'd like to tell me just exactly what you're doing strolling round the grounds of Hogwarts?"

Shaking, and with all the bravery she could muster, Cecilia looked firmly at the man, a good four foot taller than her and a good fifty stone heavier.

"And perhaps you could tell me just exactly what you're doing picking up people and carrying them off?" She coughed, trying to remain resolute, but the jellylike feeling she had under the surface was preparing to ooze between the hairline cracks of her outer courage.

"It's my business to know," said the huge man before her. "I am keeper of the grounds at Hogwarts, and a teacher." He leaned forward and towered over Cecilia, blocking out the south-west afternoon sun. "So, young lady, who is you and why was you going into the forest?"

Here we go, she thought, then remembered what Dumbledore had said almost a month ago when she'd arrived – that the gamekeeper and the caretaker knew she was here.

"I'm sure Professor Dumbledore must have mentioned me," she began, "but it would have been some time ago. I'm Cecilia Frobisher, and I'm working with Professor Snape." That's it, she thought, that's everything I have. If this giant's going to grind my bones to make his bread, he'd better get on with it soon.

He folded his arms resolutely and Cecilia was unnerved to find that his manner actually conveyed every sense of honesty and steadfastness, rather than terror. This last point was heavily underlined when, as he scratched his head thoughtfully she noticed his massive bushy beard had tiny flowers in it. After a few minutes, he smiled.

"Mrs Frobisher?" asked the giant man at last. "The muggle?" He smiled with more confidence as Cecilia nodded. "Yes...yes, that's right, Professor Dumbledore said you was comin'" He bent down to Cecilia's height.

"Look, I'm sorry ter frighten yer, its just since the Championship a few months ago, I've had to be extra careful with people I see around the grounds." When Cecilia said nothing and looked down, he added.

"I didn't hurt you, did I? Look," he said, gesturing towards the hut. "I've got a pot o' tea on, would you like some?" Cecilia nodded, trying not to let out the emotion pent up inside her, which started to ebb as she followed the man inside.

"Rubeus Hagrid," said the man, bowing as she entered. "This is my home." Cecilia looked round at the place, as if the furniture and the belongings inside had not so much been placed there, but had grown and evolved around their owner.

"You're a teacher here, Mr Hagrid?" asked Cecilia, sitting down where he was indicating moving a pile of what appeared to be filthy pieces of cloth from a farmhouse chair. "What is it that you teach?"

"Care of Magical Creatures," said Hagrid, pouring the water from the boiled kettle he had taken from the grate into a large teapot and swirling around the jorum. "This will be my third year, as a teacher that is. I've been gamekeeper for oh, thirty years. Milk?" Cecilia shook her head.

"That's good, cos I 'aint got none anyway," he added, pouring the dark tea into two cracked mugs. "The grounds is nice, Mrs Frobisher, but you must never go wandein' into the forest. 'Aint safe for wizards leastways, and for a little muggle like you, well, you wouldn't stand a chance 'gainst the werewolves and suchlike" Cecilia sipped at her tea. At least it had been made properly, though she was a bit disconcerted by the slightly bitter taste.

"What sort of creatures do you teach the care of, sir?" she asked, ignoring the "little muggle" comment.

"All sorts," he replied, setting down his mug. "Mostly the less dangerous ones now, snarks, gosshivers...but the hippogriff I had two years ago, he was a mighty fine fellow, mighty fine. Sentenced to death though, 'e were. If it 'adn't been fe' 'arry..."

"A hippogriff?" asked Cecilia, and an image of half a hippopotamus and half a griffin materialised in her mind. Hagrid fished around in his pocket and, pulling out a picture, passed it to Cecilia.

She looked at intently as the creature swooped past the image longitudinally and, as her eyes connected with those of the rider, the feelings she had done her best to put aside came marching unbidden out of their padlocked box, like a row of toy soldiers, flashing the week's memories before her.

"Just as he left, with young Sirius Black, that were. Two innocent lives saved that night..." his voice trailed off as he saw tears silently slipping down her cheeks.

"Oh my dear, whatever is the matter?" Hagrid looked at Cecilia in concern, and she handed the picture back to him.

"Come on, you can tell old Hagrid," he prompted, taking her mug off her.

Ten minutes later, and she had told him the whole sorry tale, relieved to finally get it off her chest, Hagrid sitting in stunned silence.

"Mrs Frobisher, I am appalled," said Hagrid, when she'd finished. "That a wizard I know so well, and have so much faith in, would do something like that to a muggle, and such a little one as yourself, I am utterly flabbergasted." He smiled at Cecilia.

"Thank you," said Cecilia. "I'm just glad to be able to talk to someone about it." Who doesn't have a vested interest in it all, she added, to herself. "Do you know Harry?" she added, remembering Hagrid's eyebrows raising in interest when she mentioned him.

"Do I know Harry? Well o' course I do! I was the one who took him to his aunt and uncles's house for Dumbledore. I was the one who went and found him to give him his Letter; tell 'im 'e were a wizard." Cecilia smiled at the down-to-earth affection he expressed.

"It's hard for him, with what he has had to go through. If it hadn't been for Ron and 'ermione, I don't know how 'e would have got through the last four years here. Especially the last year."

"Why?" asked Cecilia. "What happened last year?"

"The Triwizard Championship, o'course." He looked across at Cecilia's bemused expression. "How much has Professor Snape told you about the recent history of Hogwarts?"

"Not much," conceded Cecilia. "But I do know that the head Dark wizard...Voldermort...was back..." She put her hand over her mouth as Hagrid shushed her.

"Well, to cut a long story short, he...You-Know-Who...managed to get hold of Harry, and used his blood to get reborn. It was through sheer luck that Harry managed to get away from him; put up one 'ell of a fight though, did 'arry..."

Cecilia turned this sentence over in her mind. This You-Know-Who...Voldermort, this evil wizard...he was able to come back from the brink of death using Harry's blood...

Half an hour later and Cecilia is privileged to hear the unexpurgated story of the events surrounding the Triwizard Championship, and it was only when she heard the school clock faintly toll six that she excused herself from Hagrid's company.

"It's been a pleasure to meet you, Mr Hagrid," said Cecilia, extending her hand. Hagrid smiled, but looked down at her extended limb.

"You shake it," prompted Cecilia, and grinned when Hagrid took her whole wrist in his hand, and worked it up and down.

"Same for you, Mrs Frobisher..."

"Cecilia..." interjected Cecilia.

"...Cecilia," continued Hagrid, grinning down at her. "You're one of the nicest muggles I've ever met. I am sorry to hear about the dreadful events of last week. Please come to visit, any time..." he added, gesturing towards the hut door.

88888888

Late, thought Cecilia, as she hurried up the stars to the main teaching area, and down again to the dungeons. I hope he's not already there, I made enough of a fool of myself yesterday.

She reached the large bossed door soon after, and opened it, scanning the room for Snape.

"Sorry, I got delayed," she said automatically to the empty room. Oh, she thought, looking round, and her gaze caught the experiment setup.

She checked the setup again, and despite nothing having changed from that morning, she readjusted the aperture on the microscope and refocused the objective lens.

Well, there's nothing else for it but to wait, she thought, and sat down on one of the stools with "Magic and Muggles" rechecking the facts about squibs and muggle-borns.

Snape arrived an hour later, striding in with a face of stone.

"Explain, Cecilia," he intoned, gesturing towards the equipment. Ignoring his lateness, she quickly detailed the aim and purpose of the setup, and linked it back to the hypothesis of both muggle and wizard cells reproducing mitotically.

"I need samples from both a muggle and a wizard," she said, and pressed on without leaving him time to continue. "I've already got my own, so if you want to watch the mitosis in the lymphocytes; that should give you some idea of what we are talking about."

"So what sample do you need?" he asked, sitting down on the bench near her. Cecilia sighed.

"I already have mine," she said, holding a vial of blood. She paused. The ball was in his court. Whatever his reaction was now, that was the real test of their working relationship.

"I feel that in order to make this a fair test, you should take the sample yourself," said Snape, rolling up the right sleeve of his robe. "I assume you have the necessary equipment?"

Without saying anything, Cecilia pulled out another sterile needle from her bag. She pulled out the needle and attached it firmly to the accompanying syringe, ensuring that there was a tight fit. She glanced up at Snape as she approached him.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. You did it yourself, and you're still around." he retorted. That's not exactly what I meant, thought Cecilia, and held his right arm, which he'd exposed from under his robe...

...an hour later, and Cecilia was feeling on top of the world. Not only had the experiment worked for her blood sample, illustrating clearly the division of the white blood cells as they merrily made copies of themselves, but also Snape's evident fascination with what he had seen.

"Remarkable," he said, glancing over at Cecilia. "I never thought the human body could hold so many marvels...

"Did you see the second phase?" asked Cecilia, eagerly. He nodded.

"It's both of those things," she said, "...both of those phases. A similar process happens in the gametes when they reproduce before fertilisation..." She reached across for Snape's blood sample and began to prepare another slide.

"Your turn," she said, as she allowed a few drops of blood to cover the slide, and added the peroxide solution, slipping on the thin sheet of plastic to prevent the sample sticking to the lens. She handed it to Snape.

"Just take the other one out," she said, as he looked uncertainly at her. "And put this one in its place. It's your blood after all, you deserve to be the first of us to see..."

Taking the slide from her, he did as she had said, and Cecilia stood back, trying to stop herself from pacing. When he was still staring down the microscope, her patience finally gave way and, as politely as she could asked, "Severus?"

"Yes..." he said, stepping aside from the microscope and turning to her. "My cells are doing the same as yours...they are reproducing. I can clearly see the metaphase stage... Its mitosis, Cecilia, as you described..." There was wonder in his voice…

"Yes!" shouted Cecilia, walking over to him and looking down. "I can't believe it!" But she had to. It was happening, right there and then, before her very eyes. She looked back at Snape.

"You know what this means then?" she said, smiling at him. When he didn't reply, she continued. "That we've taken the first step in understanding the difference between muggles and wizards..."

He looked back at her, his face impassive. Eventually, he spoke.

"I must apologise, Cecilia," he said at last. "Until just now I doubted your commitment to this work, this research. I believed that you saw it as an excitement, entertainment. I was wrong. I even doubted you after Black's attempt on your life. Forgive me..." She had never seen that expression on his face before. There seemed to be genuine regret there.

"There's nothing to forgive, Severus," said Cecilia. "But I have to admit, I felt the same towards your attitude. Up until you looked down that microscope. When you did that, you showed that you weren't just paying lip-service to science. You actually understand it, and want to know how to use it..."

Her voice trailed off and an absence of spoken dialogue ensued and Cecilia and Snape looked at each other conveying unspoken professional respect. Finally, Snape spoke.

"So, the cells replicate," he said, nodding towards the slides. "They are similar in that respect. What we need to look for now is how they are different." Cecilia nodded and looked back over at Snape's sample again.

"I'll need to make a detailed sketch of this," she said, "and compare it to my own." She looked back up. "Are you certain there are no records of any wizards who have studied this deeply?"

Snape shook his head.

"Then I think what we'll need to do is test both of our samples for amino acid content in the assay. If there are any significant differences, this might give us a lead." Cecilia sat down next to Snape again on the bench, and considered the day's work. It had been excellent...

Half an hour later and Cecilia and Snape were in her room discussing what they were going to try next. Snape had suggested the effect of magic on the cells, and Cecilia agreed, but with one proviso.

"We need to consider whether all wizard cells behave like this," she said, nibbling the end of her pencil.

"I mean, reading that book I bought, it would suggest that squibs are just like muggles in the way that they are not able to do magic, but we don't know if it's scientifically true. Also, what about the distinctions you make, about muggle born wizards, and pure bloods? This may make a difference to Harry..." She leaned back against the stone wall of the room, relaxing as best she could against it.

"We should test whether the mitosis responds to magic," said Snape, looking at her. "If mine does, and yours does not, this may also suggest a difference in the cells themselves..."

Cecilia had to concede. She wondered how long it would take him to spot the next logical step that she had tried to ignore, taking the trouble to stress the science side of the work rather than the magic side.

"You are right of course," said Cecilia, inclining her head downwards and rubbing her temples. "Perhaps we should progress onto that tomorrow?" When he did not reply, Cecilia looked back up.

"Ahead of us continuing this discussion Cecilia, might I ask how far the events of last week have affected you?" Before she had time to deny it, he added, "In particular, your reaction last night...?" Cecilia stood up.

"I trust you, Severus," she said, evenly. "And I am sure you understand by now that I would never do anything unprofessional..." she looked at him, feeling a little unsettled.

"All I can say is, if I had not made the monumental error which was leaving last Friday night, I would not feel as concerned about the effects of magic. I would not be as jumpy very time my fire flickers, or anticipate every corner in case Peeves has actually got hold of whatever the house elves are cooking to wang in my direction..." she sagged, thinking about the near miss she'd had that very morning, and sat down on the bed, glancing at the floor, then looked back up to face him.

"Most importantly, I wouldn't look like I'd gone six rounds with Frank Bruno and we might have got to this stage by last week..." she sighed, making the most of the forthcoming silence.

"I will get over this though," she added, when he'd said nothing. "But I need to ask for your patience..." Snape stood up and walked towards the door.

"They have affected you more than I imagined," he intoned, and there was a slight edge to his voice and he walked back towards Cecilia, taking one of her hands between his icy own momentarily, in an apparent comforting gesture.

"It may not appear objective when I say this, Cecilia, but I know Black, and his…friends. I know what they are like and how they behave. They were the same at school, and nothing has changed, in particular Black's audacity to do anything to get exactly what he likes..." he stopped, and Cecilia noticed a bitter edge to his voice which in some strange way was actually rather comforting and made her feel a little less paranoid.

"We should continue along both paths," said Snape, his voice returning to its usual tone and resonance. "I can obtain more samples of wizard blood, that won't be a problem. Now I am more familiar with the phenomenon of cellular reproduction Cecilia, I can take the lead on that side."

Remarkable, thought Cecilia, and was amazed at his response to their work for the second time that day. More amazing still is that he had considered her feelings, something which she never would have believed possible, even a day ago. She nodded in agreement.

"Tomorrow then?" she said, nodding towards Snape as he made his way towards the door.

"Six," he intoned, and closed the door behind him.

For a few minutes Cecilia stared at the closed door, thinking about the day's events, before locking it firmly and pulling off her clothes in lieu of a wash and a sleep.

Had she been thinking a little more clearly and taken more notice of the little events that had contributed to the small but significant details of the day, she may have taken care to glance in the direction of the fireplace...

88888888

The week progressed quickly and their research became further embedded in science. By Wednesday, Snape had been able to make the cells in his blood sample respond using a variety of spells, with corresponding null results in Cecilia's.

Concurrently, Cecilia had made further progress with the origin of the wizard blood, and in particular had found here was a significantly higher proportion of beta amino acid in the pure blood and half blood samples; with more in the muggle-born samples and comparable "normal" levels in squib and muggle. Inn addition, she continued to add to her already comprehensive analysis of ingredients and potions.

Cecilia had also visited Madam Pomfrey again, and the healer had provided her with some notes of her grandfathers and Cecilia read them through avidly, paying particular attention to the man referred to in the notes as Raymond Lully. It appeared that Lully had been a particular help when Pompops Pomfrey had been perfecting potions and curing muggles. However Cecilia could find no reference of him in the library, and even Pompops' own notes made scant reference to his method of determining effective and safe potions for muggles.

"I expect you'll be needing some more potion yourself, Cecilia" said Madam Pomfrey, on Thursday. "You'll be out of it now, I suppose."

Cecilia looked up absently from the Pompops's notes. She had taken to reading them in the hospital wing when Madam Pomfrey was around as she was able to provide details from what she remembered about him.

"Yes, Poppy," she said guiltily, thinking about the potion still sitting in her bottom drawer and made a mental note to get rid of it and return empty vial.

"It says here," continued Cecilia, "That the goblin riots are becoming more prolific..." she looked on, "...and Pompops was not able to go to many of the muggle hospitals, despite an increase in the number of cases..."

"Oh, he'll be referring to the riots of 1956," said Poppy, as she busily mixed a tincture near at the other end of the hospital wing. "It was the precursor to the dark times, the evil times." She looked up and set down her work.

"It was thought that You-Know-Who was behind the riots, though it was never proven," she explained carefully, looking up at Cecilia. "He whipped up a frenzy within the goblin community regarding their status as slaves when they were more magical than muggles. It led to many hundreds of muggles being killed, and in the end the goblins in wizard banks the world over rioted in the streets..."

"How come I've never heard of that?" said Cecilia, intrigued. "Granted, not the goblin riots, but those of muggles?"

"It was all put down to the Cold War," said Madam Pomfrey. "It was decided between the powers of Europe, when our Minister for Magic contacted them, that they would be covered up in exchange for the ringleader's capture."

"But it's still going on!" said Cecilia. "The ringleader has never been caught!"

"It got much worse than either the muggle or wizard governments could ever have imagined, and the repercussions are still being felt..." she looked pointedly at her. Cecilia sighed.

"Even the little people have an effect on the world…" she said, half to herself.

"How profound of you to say so," said Madam Pomfrey, going back to her potion.

"I didn't," said Cecilia, looking back though Pompops' notes again. "But what Tolkien was talking about was make-believe…"

88888888

Later that evening, Cecilia could not sleep. Snape had walked out of their research session an hour earlier, which was a great pity. Not only had Cecilia wanted to tackle the beginning of atomic theory, but she was also quite disconcerted because up until then their work was proceeding well.

Lying on the bed she thought about the discussion they had had earlier that evening, trying to get to the bottom of what had gone on. She'd been testing more of Snape's potions and had come to wolfsbane, a powerful potion which Snape had explained allowed a werewolf in their human form to keep their mind during transformation, thereby sparing them the ignobility of wanton savagery.

Cecilia had laughed aloud at the notion, despite Hagrid having said not so many days ago that they inhabited the forbidden forest.

Snape had been astounded, not least in contrast to Cecilia's open-mindedness to other magical phenomena. There are limit's she'd said...

The conversation had shifted then to school and Cecilia had asked him about teaching potions. She'd described the experience of teaching muggle children and was surprised to find there was very little difference in their general attitude to school and learning. Cecilia had said that this must be anecdotal evidence to show how alike muggles and wizards actually were.

But when the conversation led onto family traits and inheritance, something which Cecilia considered the next logical step in the research Snape had gone silent, and she had found it very hard to coax anything out of him.

Worse still, when she tried to extend the theory of mitosis to gametian reproduction – meiosis, he had given her a cold look and departed without saying a word...

She'd asked him if he was well; she'd saw him wipe his forehead with the back of his hand and once or twice grip his left forearm once or twice...

What had she said, thought Cecilia to herself. She'd mentioned about children of wizards and muggles too, and she'd speculated about the parents of the people whose blood samples they were to be testing...

Cecilia sat up, and thought about the theory they still had to cover and wondered whether collision theory of atoms was wholly appropriate. Maybe she needed to understand the work of Gregor Mendel and Darwin, to get over the idea of genes and DNA. But he actually needed to be here so they could do it…

She glanced down at the fire, lost in thought and it was a moment before she noticed the head, glowing emerald green in the hearth.

"Wotcher!" came a familiar voice, and Tonks's image appeared in flame.

"Tonks! This is a surprise!" cried Cecilia, jumping. "How are you?"

"How are you, more to the point?" she asked, and Cecilia sat cross-legged in front of the fire.

"I've felt better, " she said, looking across at the younger woman. "I'm more frustrated actually…

"Half a mo, Cecilia, and I'll come over. I'm only in Hogsmeade.," and the fire dimmed to nothing.

Cecilia sat back, her legs feeling cold against the flagstones, and smiled. Tonks, she thought, remembering the pretty witch with multicolour hair, and that wonderful shopping trip to M & S.

Well that explains the green fire I keep seeing, she thought to herself and actually felt much brighter at the prospect of her visit.

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Half an hour later, Tonks had arrived and had reasoned with her that if Snape had left that evening, and she couldn't carry on with anything worthwhile, then she should throw caution to the wind and join her at the Three Broomsticks.

They headed out of the teacher's area; Tonks had insisted on taking her through the back way of the castle, through a secret passage and out into an open field, where the lights of Hogsmeade twinkled in the distance, complementing the full moon. When Cecilia asked why they simply hadn't gone through the front gates of Hogwarts, she smiled inwardly as Tonks explained that it didn't feel like proper rebelliousness otherwise!

It was getting a bit cold now, and the late summer sun had long since dipped over the horizon. When Cecilia had shivered, wishing she had brought a jacket with her, Tonks had realised and conjured one there and then, and Cecilia had to admit that there were advantages of magic…

"Two butterbeers," said Tonks, when they got inside. "How are you tonight, Rosie?"

"Oh, fine, you know," said Madam Rosmerta, pouring the drinks. "A lot better when school starts; that's when our biggest trade is. Yourself?"

"Super," she said, then leaned conspiratorially over the bar. "But you know, it would be really handy if we could stay here a bit," she said, looking over and nodding towards Cecilia. "Man trouble," she clarified. Madam Rosmerta nodded.

"Seeing as it's you, Tonks," she said, and then frowned slightly. "Who is she, anyway?"

"Just a friend," said Tonks, taking the butterbeers. "Had a few problems with a relative of mine," she winked. "So I told her I'd take her to the best place I knew to forget about him."

Madam Rosmerta came out from behind the bar and headed towards the door. Shutting it before her and turning the sign round, she nodded and said, "Take all the time you need, I'll just be in the back."

"Here you go," said Tonks, placing the drinks on the table. "You'll like this. " Cecilia looked at it a little suspiciously.

"What is it?" she asked, warily.

"Butterbeer," said Tonks, sipping it. "It's lovely; try a bit," she said, gesturing towards the glass.

"Thanks, Tonks," replied Cecilia but, still cautious of drinking remotely anything magical, she paused. Tonks sighed.

"It OK; there's nothing magical about it," and smiled encouragingly. "Except that it is alcoholic, because we're over 17..." Cecilia looked across to her as she took a sip. The drink tasted lovely; she could definitely taste honey; there was cinnamon and hops and a slight hint of a rounded bitter taste.

"See," said Tonks, nodding at Cecilia's approval of the drink. "Told you you'd like it!" But I really didn't expect you to react like that, she thought to herself, it's really affected you…

Half an hour later and they were both laughing. Tonks had told Cecilia about her popping into Professor McGonagall's fire by accident and being soundly rebuked for intruding. When Cecilia asked Tonks about her, she regaled her with stories from when she was at Hogwarts and how she had caught Tonks hanging a boy out of the third floor window by his ankles when he's called her a chameleon.

"I didn't know Professor McGonagall was in the castle," said Cecilia, sipping her drink. "What's the reason?"

"It's school starting on Saturday, isn't it?" Tonks nodded at her expectantly. "When the students start term?"

Cecilia nodded, recalling Snape mentioning it a couple of days ago. Hundreds of students, wizards and witches... The place would be quite busy...

"Not to worry though, not all of them are as bad as me!" Tonks laughed, taking in Cecilia's expression.

It was marvellous, thought Cecilia how little time it had taken for Tonks to put her at her ease. Very much a people person…like Libby. So completely different to herself. If she had been a person prone to envy, it would have been of the apparent lack of effort the younger woman needed in order to be personable and know exactly the right thing to say and to whom.

"That's what comes of my clumsy nature," said Tonks, leaning back.

"Clumsy?" said Cecilia. "I haven't noticed."

"It's usually when I metamorphose. My change in appearance usually makes a great deal of difference. That and when I'm nervous. When I was very much younger and I used to talk to Sirius and James and Remus. I used to be really clumsy then, and they'd all laugh…" she added, with a smile. "Well, Sirius and James mostly…"

"Not Remus?" asked Cecilia, raising an eyebrow and imagining in her mind's eye Tonks as a hoydenish little thing.

"No," laughed Tonks. "He used to stick up for me and talk to me when I got upset, even when Sirius teased him about it. I suppose he liked me, even then. I liked him too…" she sighed, and Cecilia glanced at her happy smile.

"Of course he never listens to anything I have to say now, even when it's important," said Tonks. "He goes and does quite the opposite. I'm really lucky to be able to spend so much time with him"

She sipped her butterbeer glass and added wistfully, "And while he may not think it himself, but I think he's simply wonderful." Cecilia smiled, remembering how she had felt like that about Tim once, and was pleased for Tonks.

"So listen," said Tonks, now refocusing her attention back on Cecilia. "I know what my stupid cousin did is still making you feel bad, is it any better out here?"

"Before I answer that Tonks, there's something I've been wanting to ask you." Cecilia put down her butterbeer and looked back at the young witch. Tonks looked at her, expectantly.

"Why do you think Remus wanted me to stay back at Gimmauld Place? I've been over and over it in my mind, trying to work it out..." Cecilia sighed, and took a sip of her drink.

"He was there when I woke up from all of that. He was happy when I became a member of the Order; he expressed to me how important the work was for us all. But that's the thing, isn't it? No matter what way I look at it, I can't understand why he would want me to stay at Grimmauld Place when he knew I needed to work here with Snape..."

"I really don't know, Cecilia," she said, smiling back at her. "He was pretty put out that Sirius treated you so badly. I know he doesn't like Snape, but he more than anyone knows how important our work is, how important it could be..."

"So you don't think he was just sticking up for his friend then, trying to succeed where Sirius failed?"

"No way," said Tonks, laughing into her drink. "He was gutted when he saw what Sirius had done. He even stopped Sirius seeing you when you said you didn't want to see him. I've never seen Remus so annoyed with anyone..." Cecilia nodded, then frowned slightly. He tried to stop Sirius seeing her? That didn't sound like someone backing up their friend...

"Only I just thought...he might be, you know, trying a different tack. Not that I can't see Sirius's point though," conceded Cecilia. "I'd be upset if I thought anyone was going to harm Freya. My goddaughter," she clarified, sipping her drink again and feeling much more relaxed than she had done an hour ago.

"I just wish that when Sirius was trying to make his point, he hadn't tried to kill me to make it, though." Tonks giggled, and Cecilia smiled too. She was glad Tonks had persuaded her to come out that evening, she could feel the break doing her good.

"So I can tell Remus you're not angry with him any more?" Cecilia nodded, wondering vaguely why her approval was that important. But it was for Tonks really wasn't it? Cecilia felt a glow of happiness that Tonks had cared so much about her feelings.

"Sirius is sorry too," added Tonks, hopefully. "He has always had problems with people he has been close to. Do you remember that I said he used to spend a lot of time with me and mum?" Cecilia nodded.

"The Black family have always been Purist, so when mum married dad, and Sirius stayed in touch, they disowned him, cut him out of the will and everything. He used to stay with James, Harry's father, in the hols from school. James's parents were so kind to him, and he was over the moon when Harry was born; like a second father to him, he was. Another?" asked Tonks, gesturing to Cecilia's empty glass. She nodded, thanking her.

When she returned, a few minutes later having chatted with Madam Rosmerta about staying in for the duration, Tonks handed Cecilia another drink, and fished out a picture from her pocket.

"That's me," she said, pointing at the moving image. "I was eight when that was taken, and Sirius and James were twenty two..." She handed it to Cecilia.

The picture was taken in what looked like London. Hyde Park, thought Cecilia, if I'm not very much mistaken. James was instantly recognisable, he was almost the spitting image of Harry, only Harry in about eight years' time.

Her glance shifted to the very youthful looking face of Sirius, nodding inwardly. His face was handsome; his long dark hair framing it perfectly. His eyes still displaying that roguish unpredictability that she remembered from the Order meeting. It was no wonder Snape had labelled him a womaniser. What woman wouldn't have fallen for that face? She handed the picture back to Tonks.

"You're very sweet there," said Cecilia. "A special occasion?"

"My birthday," said Tonks, tucking the picture back up inside her robe. "I loved going out with them, my big cousin Sirius..."

"Severus said he was popular, " mused Cecilia.

"They all were, all four of them. Sirius, James, Remus and Peter...always getting into mischief. McGonagall nicknamed them the Marauders. Snape was always the butt of their humour, him and Malfoy. Always bragging about the things they'd done. Quite awful things actually..." she added, taking in Cecilia's horrified expression.

She could just imagine it...that same cold manner, like he was nothing. Despite what Severus must have been like at school, despite how strange and odd he is now, no-one deserves to be treated like that. I didn't either...

"You're right," said Tonks, looking down, and Cecilia realised she'd spoken her thoughts aloud.

"I can understand why Severus warned me from trusting them..."

"There's good in him," said Tonks carefully. "The years he spent in Azkaban, accused of the deaths of his best friends...the fact he is stuck inside, unable to do anything substantial to avenge them. The loyalty he shows for a friend every month in the forest..." Tonks looked beseechingly at her.

"He is committed to getting rid of You-Know-Who...he's sorry for what he did to you, Cecilia..."

"I can't say I forgive him, Tonks. I'm not sure I can ever say that. But I think we can probably make some sort of amends. I mean, we're both in the Order, we're both working towards the same goal. Though I think it may be a long time yet before I visit Grimmauld Place again..." she added, smiling over the top of her glass and drawing a subconscious line under what was past.

The conversation continued into the night, moving through subject after subject. They talked over Madam Emaness's shop, and made plans to visit muggle clothes shops as soon as they possibly could and Tonks promised to look in on Amy as often as she could too. Cecilia also mentioned Raymond Lully, who Madam Pomfrey's grandfather had spoken of most cryptically in his notes and Tonks promised to investigate him before explaining in great detail about the houses at Hogwarts with particular reference to her favourite sport Quidditch.

It wasn't until when the faint rays of dawn refracted through the Three Broomsticks' window that either of them realised they'd spent the whole night in the pub, and Tonks offered to walk her back to Hogwarts.

As they walked over the fields towards the school whilst the sun began to rise, Cecilia felt a weight off her mind...

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Cecilia followed Tonks back through the secret passage, and back into the school. She felt tired now; it'd been a long time since she'd gone out drinking all night, and she'd mentally planned to spend at least some of the morning in bed.

"Thanks, Tonks," said Cecilia as they got to the door of her room. "It's been great seeing you."

"No need for thanks," replied Tonks, grinning. "I enjoyed it too. We'll have to do it again sometime..." her voice trailed and her eyes widened, and Cecilia turned to see Snape coming out of her room.

"Good night was it," intoned Snape icily, eyeing the two women standing in the corridor. He looked between Tonks and Cecilia, and she noticed how pale Tonks had become and that her hair had become very washed out.

"And just where have you been?" he asked accusingly.

"With me," said Tonks, nervously. "We, er went out..." Her voice went thin and she looked across at Cecilia.

"And just what has that got to do with you?" asked Cecilia, stepping up to him. "As I recall you left last night without so much as a word –" She glanced back at Tonks. The young witch had gone even paler.

"It has everything to do with me. You were entrusted to my care. It was not safe for you to leave the castle, especially last night..." He glared at her, and she stared back

"Look..." she said firmly. How dare he try to tell her off? "You left last night, I didn't know where you were either. I came to look for you...Perhaps you'd like to explain exactly what kind of danger you are referring that I don't already know about?"

"Wandering around the castle at night, especially without the grounds...there are many dangers that even a competent wizard would find challenging..."

"And yet no harm came to me. I was with Tonks." She looked across at the witch, whose face had clicked into an expression of horrified realisation. Snape snorted, eyeing Tonks critically.

"In that case, you might as well have gone looking for trouble," he said, still staring at Tonks. "Did the events of a fortnight ago teach you nothing?"

Cecilia looked across at Tonks, whose hair now resembled icing sugar, and noticed a glimpse of unspoken dialogue pass between her and Snape.

"Thanks for a great night," she said, her tone laden with meaning. "See you soon." Tonks broke away her fixed stare from Snape and began to edge back down toward the secret passage. From a safe distance she looked back at her and, taking in Cecilia's expression of determination and smiled briefly. Then Cecilia turned back to Snape.

"So what was that all about?" She shouldered past him, and sank onto the bed, aware of the ache down her side beginning to toll. "And is that why you're in my room at 5 o'clock in the morning, to check I'm safe?"

"That wretched house-elf came looking for me in the middle of the night. According to him you'd been kidnapped by Dark Wizards." He looked at her disdainfully, but Cecilia was too tired to care. "However I neglected to account for the measure of foolishness inherent in your kind, so I needn't have worried. Also, Dumbledore is looking for you."

Cecilia looked up at him. "What?"

"I said, I discounted how stupid muggles can be..." He folded his arms.

"No, something about Dumbledore."

"He's looking for you, he wants to see you. Now"

Cecilia got to her feet, trying to imagine what for. She threw open a few drawers, looking for something fresh and clean to wear. Dumbledore wanted to see her now?

"Did he say what about?" she said distractedly, pulling off her jumper.

"No," said Snape, taking in her semi-clothed appearance. "But you might find it beneficial to wear something a bit more...suitable…"

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Cecilia paused before Dumbledore's huge office door.

"Come!" he said, Just as she was about to knock. How on earth does he do that, she wondered, and pushed against the heavy door.

"Ah, Mrs Frobisher," said Dumbledore, who was sitting before his desk. "How are you? Settling back into life at Hogwarts?"

"Yes, thank you Professor," she said, trying to stifle a yawn.

"Madam Pomfrey tells me you are making a fine recovery, despite your refusal to remain in bed for as long as she sees fit..." he gave her a wink, before continuing.

"And your work with Professor Snape...?" he prompted, gesturing towards a large chair that had appeared near the desk.

"Good..." said Cecilia, a little disconcerted. She'd brought her notebook up just in case, but she wasn't sure what to expect. Why would Dumbledore want to see her so early in the morning?

"Oh, it's the muggle is it?" a voice coming from near the fireplace rang out haughtily before Dumbledore had a chance to say anything, and Cecilia turned to see an elderly wizard staring at her, leaning against the left-hand side of his frame.

"Muggles at Hogwarts," he added, sullenly, "would never have happened in my day..."

"Phineas, please," said Dumbledore, getting up. "This is Cecilia Frobisher. She's working with Severus Snape on the assignment."

The man from within the portrait stared back at Cecilia, so she did what any self-respecting teacher would do.

"Hello...Phineas is it?" she said genially, walking towards Dumbledore. "Nice to meet you..." She smiled at the portrait. The man continued to stare, but glanced across at Dumbledore once or twice.

"Well I suppose if she's helping you Albus, then I suppose that's fine by me..."

"And me..." another picture chimed in. "Dilys," she said, smiling warmly at Cecilia. "If you need our assistance in any way my dear, my other portrait is by the entrance to the Great Hall, please don't hesistate...any time...any time..."

"Now that you've met some of the former headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts," said Dumbledore warmly, waving his arm towards the row of portraits over the fireplace, many of whom nodded or waved at her, "there are some further details we need to discuss." He paused, waiting for Cecilia to sit back down.

"Professor Snape has informed me that your research is under way and that despite the events of a fortnight ago, you have put aside your hesitation of magic to forge ahead." Cecilia nodded in agreement, wondering why on earth he had excused her to Dumbledore.

"He also informs me that you have put forth an hypothesis about wizard and muggles?" He looked at Cecilia. "In the way that they might be connected?" he prompted.

The conversation that she had had with Snape yesterday afternoon reformed itself in her mind, and she realised at once that what Dumbledore was talking about was the genetic inheritance. He had been so interested in the meiosis experiment, but because he ran off, she had assumed she had been wrong, or made one too many assumptions and he was putting her in her place...

"I, er, that is to say, we discussed the possibility of an inherited genetic link between parents and children in the wizard world..." Dumbledore nodded.

"Do you feel everyone should know about science, Cecilia?"

"Yes," said Cecilia quickly. "Up until I came to work here Professor, I was certain that science answered almost everything that makes up the world, to a greater or lesser extent. However I feel that more strongly than ever, the longer I work here because there are so many things that have yet to be explained, yet wizards as a whole have not got a framework by which to interpret them. And there's so much more for us to understand..."

Dumbledore nodded, looking across at Cecilia over his half-moon spectacles.

"On Saturday, our school year begins. The students arrive and their lessons begin on Monday. However we cannot allow you to be here when this happens, your work with Professor Snape is vital and must be kept strictly secret."

Cecilia felt her heart sink. So she was going to have to leave then. But where to? If he suggests Grimmauld Place, she thought, I'm going to seriously have to consider saying no...

"From your testimony just now, may I be right in inferring that you believe everyone should be taught science?" Cecilia nodded, but before she said anything, Dumbledore continued.

"In addition to our lessons in magic, Cecilia, we also teach muggle studies. Our teacher, Madam Cadwallader, has decided to take a break from teaching. Ordinarily I wouldn't have bothered to replace her, muggle studies not being a required Owl examination subject and out of the jurisdiction of the Ministry. Its not compulsory, but we do encourage it" He paused from pacing before the fire to look at Cecilia again.

"I feel that this would be an opportunity to...shall we say, kill two birds with one stone...? Sorry, Fawkes," added Dumbledore, in response to Fawkes's indignant squawk.

Cecilia paused, not quite getting her head round it all. And then it dawned on her,

"Your not suggesting...you want me to...teach? Here?" she looked down, trying to take it all in. "You want me to teach...muggle studies..? To wizard children...here?" She looked back questioningly at Dumbledore.

"I want you to teach science, Cecilia, as the Muggle Studies lessons. If we say no more than...six hours a week, this will give you more than enough time to work with Severus in the evenings. This will give you a legitimate reason to remain at Hogwarts, in an environment in which you are familiar." He paced back to his chair, and stopped.

"And of course, Harry will be here, which will make it extremely convenient for your research..."

"Take some time to think about it," he added, when Cecilia had not replied.

Teach science...to wizards... But they would be children though wouldn't they? Cecilia thought back to that evening, when she had had supper with Mrs Weasley and the children. Such insular ideas, such prejudices...

Such prejudices which have resulted in one madman to impact on even her life...not forgetting the countless other lives, muggle and wizard...

"Is there anything in particular you'd like me to teach?" she asked, feeling her mind fill with little arrows, trying to direct her thoughts every which way.

"Only I could also teach about the wider part of science the responsibility we have, the history...I could even try to put it in context with wizard history...if I had the time that is..."

"So you are saying that you'll do it, Cecilia?" Looking into her eyes and seeing the spark of excitement behind them, he did not wait for a reply.

"That is excellent. Your first lesson will be on Monday, then. I'll get Professor McGonagall to write you into the timetable..."

Dumbledore smiled, and Cecilia smiled back, feeling a lot more assertive than she had done in a long time and thinking too what her fate might be if she sank like a stone in front of a class of young wizards. Maybe being a frog wasn't so bad….

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