I do not own Harry Potter books or Merlin or Rise of the Guardians or Frozen.

Chapter 26: Baby dragon

When Merlin disapparated from Dumbledore's office in a cloud of black smoke and a whirl of wind, he was showing off. There was no denying it.

He quickly regretted it as he felt the castle's wards press against him, holding him in. The wards were cast to disallow anyone to apparate within Hogwarts but they were no match for someone like him. He fought through them until he was free. Soon he found that it was a mistake to use this spell while in anger as now he had to spend even more effort trying to gain focus and lock down on where the house-elf's mark was. He should've done that beforehand. It took a lot of persistence, but thankfully, he was able to follow the trail.

He had just as much trouble getting through the wards of the building where the elf led him to. He regained solid form, tried to steady his breath and took a look around. He was inside a large room, a hallway of sorts with shiny marble floors and a tall ceiling. He apparated some distance away from the elf to not alert the creature of his arrival, but to his chagrin, the room wasn't empty. Few people looked around wondering where the wind came from.

Merlin quickly ran behind a column before they noticed him. It worked in his favor that they didn't recognize the whirl of wind as a teleportation spell. Modern wizards were only used to what their version of apparition looked like and that was also what they set up wards against. Their ignorance of Old Religion spells allowed Merlin to overcome any ward. They couldn't keep him in or out of anywhere.

But breaking through the wards tired him. It was foolish to track the elf unfocused and distraught. It took so much of his energy, he felt exhausted already.

Only then, he remembered that he was half dressed. He had trousers on but his top was a pajama shirt with a disco-dancing baby dragon and words "BURN! BABY, BURN!" on it. He thought it was funny when he bought it, but now, he wished he was wearing something else, just anything other than this. No wonder Dumbledore had a hard time treating him seriously when he showed up looking like that.

He tried to use glamour to make his pajama appear more shirt-like but it flickered and fizzled out back to the baby dragon. He was too tired to perform major magic. In fact, he didn't even have his wand with him and it would have come in handy about now. As much as he hated to admit it, wand magic had its use. When he felt depleted like this, he would have no problem performing wand spells. Oh, his temper really did a number on him this time. He was completely unprepared.

"Who cast that spell?" a woman who sounded like an authority figure asked the bewildered secretary.

"Some guys from the Department of Mysteries just passed by with a large crate," he offered and that seemed to be a satisfiable answer because no more questions were asked.

Merlin smacked his forehead. He was in the Ministry of Magic. Oh, what a place to be found in wandless and wearing baby dragon pajamas.

While he was stuck there, waiting to regain his strength, he might as well look for Dobby and his master.

He snuck around, hiding behind columns and statues until he saw the elf.

Dobby was standing in a corner, picked on his dirty pillowcase and sobbed quietly to himself. Merlin crouched and waited for the elf's master to show up but no one came to claim him. Hours passed and Merlin grew tired of waiting, but he didn't want to leave - the master could come out at any moment.

An awful thought struck him. What if Dobby's master forgot to pick up his servant on his way out? Dobby would wait until he was called. How long would that be? Merlin's stomach gave a mighty growl and he wondered if he should wait longer or give up for the day.

"Who might you be, young fella?"

Merlin whirled around and his knees buckled, weakened from being in a crouched position for so long. A middle-aged man with flaming red hair looked down at him curiously.

"Are you waiting for someone?"

The damage was already done, he was discovered and the only thing left to do was to get away before trouble found him. He looked around him for ideas and saw a witch disappear in a green flame.

"I came out the wrong fireplace."

"Oh, dear me," the man said with a kind smile. "I'll help you get back."

The ginger man led him in the direction of the large fireplaces which were on the other side of the room. Merlin snuck a glance at the wizard and noticed a resemblance to the Gryffindor red-heads.

"Are you Arthur Weasley?"

"Yes, I am," he answered. "You've met my children, I presume?"

"Yes. I'm in the same year as Ginny."

"Gryffindor?" Merlin nodded and the man smiled. "Give her greetings from daddy, will ya?"

They stopped at one of the fireplaces and Mr. Wesley handed him some Floo powder.

"Just talk clearly this time."

"Will do. Thank you."

Merlin cast a last glance at the elf who stood alone, waiting. He would have to come back and check on him another day. Hopefully then, Dobby would be home, wherever that home may be.

"Albus Dumbledore's office," Merlin said when he threw the Floo powder and hoped that the Headmaster wouldn't have visitors at the moment.

He was thrown out the other fireplace and landed sprawled on his belly right at the feet of the old wizard. Luck had it that the fireplace was lit so he spread ash and embers around when landing.

"Sorry about that," he said, picking himself up.

He vanished the mess and attempted to shake the soot out of his clothes but it was pointless. He needed a thorough bath. Dumbledore did not hide his amusement at the scene.

"I found Dobby," he tried to explain himself, ignoring the old wizard's bemused expression. "I waited for hours and his master never showed up."

"What were you doing with Floo powder, Mr. Ealdor?"

Merlin froze. "Oh, sard me," he breathed out.

That was the voice of McGonagall behind him. Nothing went right today. He groaned and looked to Dumbledore for help.

Albus looked down at him. "Sard me?"

"Look it up."

The old wizard's eyes twinkled with humor but he offered no help. Merlin supposed he served himself up for ridicule like a pig for a banquet - made a dramatic exit and came back like a fool in dirty baby dragon pajamas.

Merlin turned around and plastered an innocent smile on his face.

"I should go," he said and tried to make a quick getaway. "I'm sorry for interrupting."

"What were you doing?" She looked from him to Dumbledore, not ready to let him go yet.

Merlin bit his lip and tried to come up with something that would make sense. He was a child. A childish explanation would work best.

"I was playing hide and seek."

"In a fireplace?" she asked incredulously.

"Yeah, I figured, they'll never find me here."

The wrinkles on her face deepened while Dumbledore turned around to hide his stifled laughter with a cough.

"Minerva, would you please escort our young friend here to the Gryffindor tower so he may clean up?"

She looked like she wanted to say something but then put a hand on Merlin's back and pushed him out the door.

Once outside the Headmaster's office, she stopped him. Her gaze oozed disapproval.

"You're lucky the Headmaster tolerates your behavior. He told me that he's friends with your family and that should supposedly excuse your casual demeanor, but you should remember that you are a student at this school. You will address him respectfully and will not show up in his office unannounced like this anymore. You have embarrassed the House of Gryffindor and me. Am I making myself clear?"

Merlin inclined his head respectfully.

"Yes, ma'am."

She pursed her lips and contemplated what to do with him. In the meantime, Merlin's stomach growled in warning and he didn't care how she wanted to punish him. He was ready to double over from hunger. He hadn't eaten since the day before.

"I can't believe I have to say this, but Floo powder is not to be used for playtime, Mr. Ealdor. How did you find a fireplace that was connected to the Floo Network?"

He shrugged. "Lucky."

She looked like she wanted to interrogate him but his stomach chose this moment to make a very loud growl and Merlin was too tired to even feel embarrassed about it.

She steered him to the tower and he gladly went along. He stumbled as McGonagall pushed him and tried to remember to move his feet in synch. He couldn't remember the last time he was this exhausted by magic and wondered why he felt so spent when all he did was a teleportation spell and breaking through two powerful barriers. Then, it dawned on him that he did all of that while holding the aging spell. It had been months. Maintaining it for such an extended period of time was taking a great toll on him.

He missed being in his adult body. He missed how easy everything was, how unlimited his magic reserves felt. For the time being, he was stuck like this and had to get used to the consequences, starting with no more big shows of magic.

When he got to his dorm, he eyed his bed longingly and considered just collapsing in it. But he was filthy and starving. So he took a quick shower and somehow found the energy to make it downstairs.

When he got there, the evening feast had just started. He found Jack sitting in their usual spot and joined in.

"Hey, don't disappear on me like that," Jack said in an accusatory tone. "You had me worried."

Merlin shrugged, too tired to come up with an excuse. They ate in silence. Conversation didn't feel right without Colin there. The absence of the missing part of their trio was painful. He kept sneaking glances to where Colin usually sat next to him. Such a sweet boy to befall such a cruel fate.

Finally, Jack excused himself to talk to his sister and Merlin had a sense of deja vu because the same thing had happened yesterday. And now it hit him that he forgot the most important part of the previous evening.

Colin looked scared and was trying to tell him something.

"It's about Jack," the boy said.

Colin found out something and was silenced before he could tell anyone.

Merlin swiveled in his seat to see where the white-haired twins sat together, whispering secret plans to each other. He suspected the boy before because he was missing right before Mrs. Norris was petrified. Why exactly did he drop his suspicions?

He was a fool to fall for Jack's charisma and drop his guard. He wanted to believe that his friend was harmless so much that he ignored the signs plastered right in front of him. Now, as a result of his weakness, an innocent boy paid the price.

The last couple of days had been crazy. Ever since Colin Creevey was petrified, the whole school had been on edge. Someone tried to sell Elsa an amulet that would supposedly protect her from harm, but she knew better than to fall for the fraud. Just from touching it, she could feel that it was a plain stone, it didn't hold any magic. Besides, would she even need one? She wasn't a Muggle-born. She wasn't a witch either but no one knew that. She felt no need to cower in fear. What would that achieve anyway? Fear was a useless emotion.

Her brother was distraught and blamed himself for what happened to his friend. She tried to assure him that he couldn't have done anything to prevent it, but he wasn't easily persuaded. Guilt was yet another useless emotion. If only she could make him see that.

If he wasn't under enough strain already, his roommate, Merlin, had been making it worse. Per Jack, his friend was acting strange around him, upset by what happened to Colin in his own way and taking out his stress on her brother. The fear was getting to everyone and had a compounding effect. It was like an infection causing mass hysteria, spreading from student to student, becoming more potent with each day.

Elsa wanted to help her brother and thought that a good solution would be to occupy them with new research.

When she learned of Jack's plan about Old Religion, she thought he was going overboard, but once she learned that it meant that Merlin would teach them some new magic, she got excited. Jack went with Merlin to McGonagall and started the process to have the school accept their religious beliefs, everything was going smoothly, but then, Colin was petrified and Merlin's attitude completely changed. Several days have passed since then, and Merlin could not find the time to move forward with their plan. Now, he had been spending all his time with Harry Potter's gang and wouldn't be bothered with anything else.

Elsa wanted to find out for herself what the problem was so when she saw Merlin in the hallway, she walked up to him.

"Hi. I'm really sorry about your friend."

Merlin looked at her with his eyes narrowed and she wondered if she had ever done anything to make him dislike her. She didn't know him well but her brother seemed to like him, so she tried to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"Jack mentioned that you showed him some Old Religion magic few days ago and I was just wondering when you were planning on teaching us."

"Oh, that," the boy said and scratched his head. "This isn't the best time with everything that is happening."

Elsa blinked a few times trying to recover her train of thought. This was the attitude Jack was talking about.

"Well, or maybe it's the best time exactly for that reason. Jack said how he wished he had been there to protect Colin but how exactly could he protect him? He doesn't know any spells strong enough. When you spoke of it, it sounded like you know some advanced magic, useful magic. Or was that all just talk?"

Merlin frowned and she wondered if she pushed him too hard, but she stood her ground. Someone had to give this boy a good talking to.

"It wasn't just talk. I want to teach you, but you're going to have to be patient."

She did not appreciate his patronizing tone or how he was dangling his knowledge of the subject in front of her like it was a carrot teasing a hungry goat. She did not like being under his mercy.

"Don't forget, Jack needs your help to talk to Professor Snape. We started the process, we can't just pause. That would make it look like we weren't serious."

"I'll try to find the time, but I have more important things on my plate right now."

"Some friend you are," she said bitterly. "You gave my brother hope that he was going to be alright and then you abandoned him. Nevermind. I will help him if you won't."

Merlin had no response for her, but instead stared at her in a strange way that made her feel uncomfortable like he was searching for something in her eyes, so she ended that disappointing conversation.

She spent the next couple of days researching Old Religion with Jack so that they wouldn't be clueless about it. Having Merlin there would be the best because as a real practitioner of the faith, he could answer professor's questions about it, but if he was going to act so don't-bother-me-now, then they had to figure this out alone.

There were no records on Old Religion in Hogwarts library that they could find. Since Merlin mentioned ancient Druids, they decided to research them instead but that search brought small results. Apparently, ancient Druids believed in passing on knowledge in a word-of-the-mouth method and did not like to write it down, or maybe too many of them were illiterate. In any case, it wasn't much but she thought they gathered enough information to appear as true practitioners.

The more Elsa read about it, the more she wanted to be a practitioner of Old Religion. She was enthralled by the idea of possessing it all: her own brand of nature spirit magic, Hogwarts magic, and Old Religion. If she could wield them all, she would be unstoppable.

They found one book which contained Old Religion spells and she got excited, thinking they wouldn't need Merlin after all, only to find that the spells were written in ancient rune.

"Do you think Merlin can read this?"

Jack looked over at the page and shrugged.

"It's possible. He knows Old English. Hey, remember when mother would talk in a different language sometimes? That's what it was! The fact that we're familiar with it will be useful for the incantations." He leaned in closer and whispered. "Merlin says that this language has been dead for a thousand years. Do you think mother is that old?"

A shiver went down Elsa's spine. She couldn't imagine how anyone could be that old but she supposed that it was possible that mother had been doing her spring rejuvenation which extended her life for a thousand years already. Maybe longer. But why? She wondered who would choose such cursed existence.

"Who would want to live that long?"

A new thought occurred to her. It was possible that there was a spell in Old Religion that would help her find their father and she wouldn't even need Mirror of Erised anymore. Maybe even the spell book she had found contained it. But they needed Merlin to translate it and he wasn't cooperating at the moment.

Research into Old Religion was a welcome break from her usual research for the Mirror of Erised. Luna's father turned out to be of no help. He didn't keep a record of who submitted the article about it.

In an act of desperation, Elsa wrote a letter to Gulbadox family and gave it to a school owl, hoping that the bird would be able to find them by some magical means. Two days later, the owl came back and angrily threw her letter back at her. The events in the article had happened over a century ago. Was it possible that there were no surviving Gulbadox descendants?

After that fiasco, her last hope was finding where people would send dangerous artifacts. She was running out of places to look. It felt like she had read half of the library by now. So it was with welcome thoughts that she dived into the knowledge on the Old Magic and Druid practices. It distracted her from feeling like a failure.

Once they read what they could about ancient Druids, they talked to McGonagall, counting on her help with Professor Snape.

"What exactly do you plan to achieve with Professor Snape?" she asked them.

"Some of the ingredients we use in Potions are just so horrid," Jack said. "If we could substitute them for something more humane…"

"Do you realize that you propose to change potion's recipe? What makes you think you know the subject well enough to do this? You're only in your first year."

"She has a point," Elsa admitted but her brother seemed pretty confident about his plan.

"Elsa, do you remember that Elixir book?"

"Yes."

"There were a lot of tips in there which apply to Potions. They work. I've tried them"

They had very few books available to them when growing up and the Elixir book was the most intriguing of them but it was also difficult to decipher.

"See? All those times I told you to reread books paid off."

He smiled, refreshingly not afraid to admit that she was right. "Yes, it did. Have you tried using what you remember from it?"

"No, I've been following the recipes from our textbook."

Jack gave her a sly smile. "Really? I'm doing something better than you?"

"Who said that you're better? My grades have been excellent."

"So are mine and I've been modifying every potion recipe according to the Elixir book notes."

Elsa gaped at him. She couldn't believe that he was so brazen about it.

"Jack, this is intriguing but," McGonagall sighed, "I don't want you to get your hopes up. What you're trying to achieve is unprecedented."

"I need to try."

"Very well," she drew herself up and straightened a crinkle on her long gown. "I'll speak to Professor Snape and arrange the time. I suggest you two prepare what you're planning to say to him in the meantime."

While having a word of their Head of House was going to be useful, Elsa knew that this was a battle they had to fight on their own.

She spent hours in the Ravenclaw common room, racking her brains for the best way to approach the unapproachable Potions Master. Luna came over and squatted on the floor with her drawing materials.

"Luna, when I said you can borrow my shoes, I meant both, right and left."

Someone stole all of Luna's right shoes, leaving her with only the lefts. While they looked for them, Elsa offered her a spare pair. Luna seemed to be very relaxed about the whole situation. If it was her, Elsa would've turned the place into a war zone to find out who did it.

"They're a little large, you're taller after all," Luna said in a chipper tone. "It's better to have at least one well fitting shoe if two are not available."

Elsa stared at the one yellow and one gray shoe and wasn't sure how else she could convince her friend to wear a matching pair. She supposed it was better than her brother's barefoot obsession.

A group of second-year girls passed by and openly laughed upon seeing Luna. Elsa wondered if they were the thieves. The girls noticed her ferocious stare, sobered up and left the common room. They looked guilty. This was worth investigating.

Right after, another girl went down from the dorm and Elsa's mood brightened up.

"Padma," she waved to her favorite second-year friend to come over, "you know Professor Snape better. If you had a request for him, how would you go about it?"

Padma paused and approached slowly with a wistful look on her face. "What is this about?"

She looked down at Luna and made an incredulous face as if she had never seen an oddity like her before but did not comment.

"I'm helping my brother with something. He has a special request for Professor Snape and if it was any other teacher, it wouldn't be a problem. Everyone falls for his charisma and gives in to all his whims. It's annoying, really, how effectively he can charm people."

Padma had a dreamy look in her eye. "Your brother is really cute. I couldn't resist his request either."

Elsa thought she would hurl. "You too?"

Padma sighed, staring into nowhere. "If only he wasn't younger..."

"We're your age, you know? We'll be twelve in December."

"Really?" Padma perked up. "So it wouldn't be weird."

Elsa groaned. "Why does everyone like him so easily? I don't think people react to me this way."

"You're a little intense," she said with a shrug. "They're probably intimidated. It's not a bad thing."

This was an interesting piece of information and Elsa already made plans to analyze it in more detail later, but for now, she had to get back on topic before Padma got lost in daydreams about her brother.

"So, Jack's charm will not have a chance against Professor Snape. It's up to me to find a way to get him to listen and give us a chance. What would you recommend?"

Padma twirled a lock of dark hair on her finger and took a moment to think. Elsa hoped she wasn't still fantasizing about her brother.

"Yes. Snape." She sighed like she'd prefer to get back to the previous topic. "Underneath the moodiness, Professor Snape is an intelligent man. Appeal to that. It wouldn't hurt to stroke his ego a bit - very subtly. For example, just 'accidentally' mention how excellent of a teacher he is."

Padma's suggestion gave birth to a slew of ideas and Elsa was over the Moon happy that she had a tip on dealing with the moody Professor.

"Thank you."

"Good luck and," Padma giggled, "mention me when you speak to your brother."

Elsa rolled her eyes. "Sure."

When they came to the Potions Master with McGonagall, he nearly laughed at them, nearly. Elsa supposed he forgot how to do that properly decades ago.

"Professor," Elsa tried to follow Padma's advice, "we wouldn't have suggested alternate ways of preparing potions if we didn't have confidence that it can be done. Isn't the art of potion-making a science? Where would science be if not for experimentation?"

The corner of his lip twitched but the rest of his face did not betray any emotion so she wasn't sure what he thought of her appeal. She hoped that he found her argument sound and would give them a chance. That was all they needed.

Professor McGonagall excused herself to attend to her duties and they were left alone with the Potions Master.

"Just so that I can fully comprehend the extent of your" he licked his lips, "request, do divulge, which ingredients offend your religious sensibilities?"

Jack took out their textbook and pointed at a long ingredient list. "Things like fairy wings, unicorn horns, or any part of an animal that wasn't naturally shed. If obtaining the ingredient harmed an animal, especially if it's a magical creature, then I will not use it in a potion."

Snape looked a little bit too pleased with everything Jack said and Elsa wished that her brother didn't put so much emotion in his words. Snape seemed to be the type of person who found emotions to be a weakness.

Elsa's mind reeled at that thought because that was her view on emotions as well. Did she really have this much in common with this wizard? She appraised him, from his intimidating posture, permanently sneering expression and an aura that screamed, "Beware!" Was this how people viewed her? She was opposite of him as far as looks went, and she didn't think anyone thought her to be a vampire (Jack was still convinced that he was secretly a bloodsucker), but she tended to agree with Snape. Even his meanest insults had sound reasoning behind them and she thought that he could be quite funny sometimes.

"You think you two dunderheads can rewrite a work of famous potioneers?"

"We wouldn't dare do this on our own, Professor," Elsa added, remembering the second tip Padma offered, "not without the guidance of an excellent teacher."

His eyes lingered on her and a corner of his lip lifted a little. Elsa couldn't believe it. Was that a smile? Did he actually smile at her attempt at flattery?

"I find your ridiculous request so utterly absurd, I'm willing to let you try just so I can watch you fail. You will prepare the Antidote to Common Poisons right now and," he paused for effect, "test it on yourself."

Elsa swallowed. "What?"

Snape looked smug. "Not so confident now?"

Jack took a long breath. "I can do it."

"Then don't waste my time, get on with it."

Jack took the lead on the preparations and Elsa helped. Several times, she noticed that he deviated from the recipe.

"You're supposed to wait thirty minutes." She pointed to where it said so in their textbook.

"The exact time depends on the heat and cauldron thickness and that isn't exact, is it?" He put his hand over the cauldron and tilted his head thinking. "It's nearly ready. Maybe one minute"

She was bewildered why he was doing that. "You're taking a big risk."

"No, I'm not. I can feel it. You can't?"

She hesitantly put her hand over the cauldron. It felt hot and her instinct told her to take her hand back but she waited, trying to feel what he described. She felt a tingle of magic and took her hand back. He could tell it was ready from such a small tingle?

When they were small, Jack turned feeling magic into a game. She thought it was stupid. She didn't see what use it was, but now, she understood something her brother must have recognized early on. You could manipulate magic better if you could feel it.

"I used to make fun of you for touching everything," she remembered. "You were fascinated by the magic in things and I thought it was a stupid hobby."

He chuckled. "I did it even more to annoy you. Now, I feel it everywhere. Each person, object. Sometimes, even the air has magic in it."

"You trained yourself in this skill."

He smirked at her. "Instead of making fun of me, you should've joined me."

She knew this about him, she'd seen him interact with objects and always scoffed annoyed that he never dropped that silly hobby. It was just another one of her brother's quirks. But underneath the game was the practice of refined skill. He allowed himself to feel it all, to grow sensitive to even the slightest trace of magic. She wondered if she could still learn this skill or if it was too late for her. It took him years. Did she have that type of patience?

"What is it like to feel magic this deeply? Are there side effects?"

He ground his ingredients in a pestle while deep in thought. "It gets overwhelming sometimes. That's why I like to go outside to clear my head."

"This is all fascinating," Snape's drawl sounded behind them and Elsa jumped. His tone dripped with sarcasm. "Would you care to explain what you're doing to this unfortunate valerian root?"

Jack was happy to explain. "When mashed together with wormwood oil and moondew, they will have the same magical properties as a unicorn horn. I just have to time it right."

Snape's lip twitched. "I have heard of this technique but it is extremely unreliable. Its result is most difficult to replicate. You'll completely change the properties of your brew if you fail."

"I imagine others describe it as difficult because one has to wait for the magic to be at its optimal and if they can't sense it, how would they know if they timed it right?"

"But you can?"

"Yes." Jack lifted his eyes to their professor and released the full force of his innocent gaze on the man. The grumpy professor seemed frozen in thought for a moment and didn't betray whatever he was thinking.

"Carry on," he said, barely moving his lips.

Jack got back to squishing his ingredients and finally decided that the mixture was ready. He put them in the cauldron and slowly stirred.

Elsa watched with fascination. He looked like he knew what he was doing. It was interesting to watch him work on something that wasn't just play, to actually be serious for a change. She supposed he was growing up.

She passed him the mistletoe berries and he stirred them in one at a time. He put his hand over the cauldron and concentrated. Then, he pulled out his wand, waved it over the pot and lingered for a moment, feeling the magic.

"It's almost stable. Try," he encouraged her. "Can you feel it?"

She put her hand over it and could sense magic but didn't understand. "What do you mean by stable?"

"Right now, its magic feels like it's trying to decide what it wants to be. It's like a mood, up and down, good and bad…" He hovered his hand over it again and waited.

Snape was right next to them and observed their brew. "Nix, you managed to get the color right but you might be overcooking it at this point."

"Almost," Jack whispered.

He closed and opened his fist uncomfortably and Elsa imagined that he was close to burning himself, but he endured it, determined to get his potion right. Then, he smiled in satisfaction, snapped his hand back and turned off the fire.

He hid his hand beneath the desk and covered it with a layer of frost to cool down his skin.

"It's ready."

Snape stirred the potion gently to examine its consistency. Without a change in expression, he walked away from them and disappeared behind a mysterious door which was usually locked.

Elsa exchanged a look with Jack. They were both clueless as to what their professor was up to.

Snape came out holding a vial in his hand. He walked up to them with a hint of a smile on his face.

"Since you are so confident with your potion invention, you should be as confident in its effectiveness. Ms. Nix, if you will, drink this entire vial."

"What's in it?" Jack asked.

"Poison, what else?" Snape answered with a bored expression. "This is how we're going to test your potion's effectiveness."

Elsa had to admit that as crude as this method was, this was a very practical way to test an Antidote to Common Poisons.

Jack looked at their professor intently, finally understanding the severity of the risk his potion experiment posed. "Fine. I'll drink it."

"No, dear Mr. Nix," Snape said as if he was bored. "Your sister will drink it and you will cure her with your potion."

Jack gripped the edge of the desk. "No. I should be the one…"

"Ms. Nix, are you ready?" Snape ignored her brother.

Elsa stared at the vial and felt momentarily too stunned to respond.

'Logic. Logic over fear,' she thought to herself.

Snape was testing their resolution as much as actually testing the potion. She could guarantee that he had an antidote ready to give her, should Jack's potion fail. Was she sure enough to take this risk? There was also an additional risk that Jack's potion was poison in itself with unknown effects and the common antidote Snape had wouldn't counteract it.

"You don't have to," Jack whispered to her.

His eyes shone with fear. She would have felt the same if the roles were reversed. And she was sure that should the roles be reversed, Jack would have taken the risk for her. If she backed out now, it would undo all they had achieved with their professor today. He wouldn't give them another chance. This was it.

She gritted her teeth and made up her mind. She would do this for him.

She took the vial from Snape and regarded it. She had to trust in her brother's skill and also that their teacher wouldn't make her drink it if he didn't have confidence that he could cure her. He was intimidating and dark in many ways but she didn't believe that he was evil.

She turned to her brother, said, "You owe me," and drank the whole thing.

She closed her eyes, feeling heat run down her throat and spread in her stomach.

"Professor," Jack asked in a worried tone, "what type of poison did you give her?"

"Pure aconite extract."

"But that's lethal!"

"Precisely," Snape said slowly, "so your potion better work."

A/N: Question to my lovely readers: Do you like longer chapters like this one or would you prefer them to be shorter? For reference, this one is 6k - not all of my chapters will be this long but I'd like to learn your preference.