The Birthday Present

by Excessivelyperky

Disclaimer: All belongs to Rowling and various assigns, including Warner Brothers, Scholastic Books, and so on.

Once more, thank you Snape's Nightie for Britpicking! And everyone think nice healing thoughts about zafaran, who is ill. Wish I had a hair from her when she was younger--I'd make a nice batch of Polyjuice and she could enjoy being healthy for a couple of hours.

Note: Over 1000 reviews, whee!

Chapter 54: When Potions Attack

Severus Snape

For the next week he continued feeling much better. Flitwick and he managed the spell on the baby spoon, and between the two of them turned it into a ring for Draco to wear. His godson accepted the gift without protest. The boy was no longer as sanguine about matters as he was before. Snape couldn't help seeing that as an improvement.

He, Lupin and Shacklebolt practiced dueling in the forest several times. At least these sessions were without Mr. Potter. The werewolf reported on the meetings he and his friends had had to the rest of the Order, while Snape sat back and tried to stop imagining Molly in his arms as she bustled about. He had no desire to return to Margot once he saw how different she had been from the real thing.

He was relieved when Lupin said the next full moon was to be only a practice run. The longer he could manage to live in denial that Lucius could escape, the better. It worried all of them that the Dark Lord was finally beginning to use his head about such raids.

The next weekend was entirely quiet, save for the Slytherin-Hufflepuff game. Winky fussed at him to wrap up warmly for it. The weather was clear and quite cold. Snape had gone outside when his schedule insisted on it, and even taken some turns on the broom Hooch lent him, but he knew the weather would not hold for long.

In fact, it became quite nasty the week before the full moon. It worked out well for his teaching schedule that the phenomenon was on a Saturday this time. Dumbledore insisted that he prepare for a stay in Switzerland anyway, and if he missed a few days afterwards that he was not to worry. During their meeting Sunday evening, which was also attended by Professor McGonagall, Albus said, "I would like to try out the editor from Potions Monthly the last week of October anyway. She has indicated interest in moving from her present position. I tried to warn her that she would be buried in paper anyway, but she said she was used to that. I know you are feeling better than you have been, but I'm worried about the reaction you may have when you start brewing the Wolfsbane again."

"So am I." Snape paused. "I am going to have Mr. Malfoy assist me as much as possible this time. He will lose time from his classes and some sleep, but if the weather continues this way, he shouldn't lose much from Quidditch. Now, wait—" he could see Minerva beginning to glower. "I intend to have Miss Granger assist me the month after that. Winky will be present most of the time, in case you're worried about her reputation. The next full moon after her attempt I will draw the name of a random member of the class and have one of them with me, although I will most likely end up with one of the Ravenclaws." It would be just his luck to draw Miss Lovegood.

"I see," Minerva said. "I am quite proud of her, you know."

"I don't blame you," he said, and enjoyed the stunned amazement in both her and Dumbledore's eyes at the unexpected compliment.

The meeting went like that, never touching on anything deeper. He thought he preferred it this way. As he left, he decided Albus was much more intelligent than he appeared to most. If he had been forced to return to Hogwarts a week ago, he would have found a way to visit the woman out of spite, if nothing else. Now he had been given the freedom he had wanted so much, he didn't feel the need to use his pass, at least not yet. Just knowing he was trusted to use his own judgment in such matters was enough thus far.

During the next few days, he remembered that tranquility with rueful nostalgia. The weather remained horrible as the days gained on towards Halloween. Some flying classes were held inside the Great Hall. Snape tried to remember what Sprout had told him about a tunnel to one of the greenhouses. In fact, Poppy caught him sitting up grading during his afternoon rest break. Severus didn't see the point, but followed the resting part of his regime more thoroughly after that. He had been working later than usual going over the possible legal challenges in regard to Narcissa's guardianship suit. In fact, he'd had several useful chats with Professor Binns over how his own research ought to be targeted.

He started the Wolfsbane potion with both Draco and Winky assisting him. He had his godson start his own cauldron, though he made a double batch in his own. Lupin was going to need more than usual this time, even if he and his friends were involved in only a practice run.

Snape felt the effects of the fumes immediately, and made notes. He found himself more prone to anger again over things that hadn't bothered him the week before. He tried not to lose his temper over Draco's errors. The boy was going on short commons himself trying to keep up with everything, and his mistakes normal ones for the first time working on the Wolfsbane all the way through.

By Thursday night, he was ready to hex everyone and everything in his path. Poppy caught him after dinner in the Great Hall and dragged him to her office. "I wish you didn't have to stay up all night with that nasty stuff," she said, as she examined him with her wand while they both sat in her office. "Your book has been quite informative about how you feel. I must admit, you have shown more restraint than I thought you would."

"I've made a list of the ingredients and the quantities," Snape said wearily. "It's worse than usual this time because I had to make a larger batch, and breathe in Malfoy's mistakes, never mind what the dunderheads are doing in class." He thought back to the vigor and calm he'd felt not too long ago with some nostalgia. "Speaking of the book, I'll need to take it with me tomorrow so I can show it to Lowenstein when I go to Switzerland."

"You should go there tonight," she fretted.

"Not with the potion unfinished. I hate to make Draco sit up, too, but he may need to know this sooner than anyone thinks."

"I would say you were becoming morbid again, except, well…"

"Call it realistic instead, Poppy," he said. "I hate this."

"So do I. At least this time you'll be cared for properly, and have a week off after, or so I understand. I do hope this woman from Potions Monthly works out."

"Madame Tranh is said to be quite competent," he said.

"Yes, but she hasn't dealt much with children. She may run screaming out the gates and swear never to leave Paris again." Madam Pomfrey put away her wand. "Well, I don't like your current condition, but I understand your worry about Remus. Have you had any wolf-flashes since you finished the book?"

"No," he said. "Although a lot of things make sense now. The Marauders were his pack, and I suppose I ought to be surprised he went against them as much as he did."

The mediwitch looked startled. "That was my conclusion, too, but I didn't think you'd see it that way."

"He fools everyone by acting so human most of the time," Snape said. "But he was made a werewolf so young it's amazing he's still fighting it. That's half his trouble during his transformations. So naturally his true nature leaks into the rest of his life whether he likes it that way or not."

"I must admit, I hadn't really thought of it that way. I'm surprised you're not more upset if you don't consider him quite human now."

"Actually, it's easier for me that way. I don't expect Firenze to enjoy being indoors, Miss Bulstrode to be delicate and ladylike, or Grawp to be able to think. I am not like Madam Umbridge, Poppy. Nonhuman creatures are simply part of the Wizarding World, and anything who thinks to legislate them out of existence is out of her mind." He realized that Lupin's conduct really did make a great deal more sense if one thought of him as a wolf rather than a human with a 'disability'. "Obviously, most of the students at one time or another have wondered if I have an aversion to garlic."

The older witch laughed. "Oh, Severus, I wish you didn't have to stay up late tonight."

"But I do. Trust me, I'm just as tired of whining as you are of hearing it. And before you say anything, I will have Draco or Winky do as much as possible. But I must watch the stages of each cauldron tonight. Lupin is going to be busier this weekend than he should be, too. You may be glad you have that werewolf book back if you need to patch him up."

Madam Pomfrey looked thoughtful. "Albus hasn't said anything, but that's nothing new. If you're going to skip the sedative tonight, you had best do without the other dose as well, or you may find yourself interrupted just when you would rather not."

It was frightening how the mediwitch could read his mind at times. He'd already come to the same conclusion. "Perhaps I should take the daybook with me now, so I'll remember to pack it before I go.

"No, I'll keep it tonight. Mr. Malfoy is a great deal more responsible than he used to be, and I'm sure you've found Winky helpful this year, but I could use the warning should a mishap occur during your brewing. I would not like to think what could have happened if I had not heard its chiming a few weeks ago."

"I see," Snape said. "Well, I had best take a look at those cauldrons now. At least Draco is better at watching a clock than Winky is so far, so I may be able to nap a bit." He stood and stretched, wishing he were going to bed instead, despite the earliness of the hour.

"Rest when you can, dear," Pomfrey said, with a sad smile on her face.

He nodded, and went back to the dungeons. It had a been a while since he'd made thorough rounds, and Snape knew he had a little time before working on the potion. Apparently his Slytherins were counting on his illness and their ability to get round Winky, as he discovered quite a few things. Mr. Bunnell and his friends were not especially happy when their cache of forbidden cigarettes and other contraband was discovered, while Snape gleefully confiscated the money devoted to a dice game being held in the rear stall of the Slytherin boys' lavatory. He went through the usual hiding places in the common room and swept them clean.

The Potions Master wondered if any of the students would be idiotic enough to come to him later and ask for them back. No doubt Miss Parkinson would be interested to learn someone had left her subscription copy of Witch Weekly close to the fireplace, or embarrassed to have him discover her carelessness. An impromptu dormitory inspection of both sides led to finding out which boys still thought under the bed was a good place for their magazines, while a quick look at the girls' side harvested the usual trove of romance novels and chocolate. Since all were equally humiliated by the time he was done, nobody felt singled out. He was unable to find Mr.Andreas' new hiding place for whatever that boy had collected lately, and knew he would have to. Someone must have warned the student about these occasional inspections, or he was simply being cautious. No doubt the concept of 'personal belongings' was a flexible one among those working for Mr. Bartholomew, and the boy was a fast learner.

He felt better after having disseminated fear, terror, and a few detentions, one of which was given to Draco for his possession of a rather questionable volume, even if it was in Latin and Snape had given it to him as a gift. That gave him a perfect excuse to generate sympathy for his godson rather than envy, as everyone would soon learn the Professor's favorite would pay for that position by a full night's worth of extra duty. Of course, after his return from the clinic he would likely be haunted by a flock of Ravenclaws whining because they weren't included, but he'd face that later. I wonder how I should manipulate things next time so Miss Granger isn't harassed for her 'good luck' next month. I must find a way to phrase her selection for this duty so she doesn't jump and down with glee and ruin my fun.

But that could wait. Tonight he and his godson would further the bonding process, though he hoped vomiting would not be involved.

Once Draco was wearing proper protective clothing, he and the boy began the night-long process of finishing both batches of the potion.

Even so, the boy complained of the fumes. "Why can't this stuff can't be vented?" he asked.

"I wish," Snape answered mordantly as he added the mother-of-silver to one cauldron, then had his godson add the proper amount to his own smaller one. "Unfortunately, the fumes need to feed on each other in an enclosed space. Normally one batch is small enough so they aren't quite so overpowering. It is also required to stand close to view any changes taking place. Timing is quite tricky for this potion, especially when one batch is larger than the other. You need to stir fifteen times counterclockwise when yours becomes bright green. On the other hand, I will need to stir twenty-five times counterclockwise in mine when it turns that color. I've experimented and I know the proper sequences for each size of cauldron."

"You do have this all written down somewhere?" The blond Slytherin noticed almost as soon as he did that it was time for him to begin the stirring, and did so with a long wooden spoon.

"In the notes I sent you last summer, towards the back," the Potions Master said absently, as he saw it was turn to him to work on his cauldron. "Now we let it sit for fifteen minutes." He was tired already, and it wasn't even midnight yet.

"May I put a Bubblehead Charm around my cauldron?"

"No," Snape said. "I dare not make any changes to this batch from my normal procedure. However, you can put one around you. In fact, at this early stage I should use one, too. Later, the smell of the fumes will become more important."

He sat down in an old armchair too ragged for use anywhere but in the lab. The stuffing was probably worth a healthy sum from the various ingredients it had absorbed over the years, but he'd discovered he could sit on a high stool for only a short time before his back gave out these days. However, Draco was younger and could keep watch. Since his smaller cauldron would change first, Snape believed he would have warning of changes in his well in time to react.

The night wore on. They talked of a number of different things, including the best place to wear a silver ring that must not come in contact with anything to do with the Wolfsbane Potion. His godson grinned wickedly, clearly thinking of a spot, until Snape pointed out how a spill could soak through even thick woolen trousers and cause quite a surprise to a daring young man. "I recommend a toe, as that will be shielded by both stockings and your shoes," the Head of Slytherin said, who had heard all about certain bizarre Muggle fads. "It will also not be seen on casual inspection."

"Only girls wear rings there!" Draco said.

You would be amazed, Severus thought, but decided his godson could find out the hard way about some of the more interesting habits of his fellow Death Eaters. "There is an alternative," he said. "It would be fairly permanent, but you could create a tattoo on your foot, or perhaps both feet, with the silver of that ring. No one would be surprised by a dragon design. Again, the feet are far better protected during potions work than almost any other part of the body. You would have to learn to adjust your bath, as they will heat up more quickly with such a metallic design ingrained in them, but that's minor, really."

Draco looked thoughtful. Snape hoped he did something to keep the ring close to him no matter what. If there was any way he could help his godson from beyond the grave, the book and the ring would help. Bella could easily draw her nephew into the darkness despite the boy's current resolutions. Albus was right about that.

Winky wandered in and out despite her own obvious weariness. Snape finally commanded her to lie down about 4 am. He was glad Draco was with him this time. The fumes felt overpowering to him, and he had to sit down several times just from dizziness. The Potions Master was temped to vent the dungeons, but knew Lupin would require a more potent than usual batch in larger quantities to help control his fellow wolves. He hoped anything stupid they got up to over the weekend was only a rehearsal. If any of the beasts retained enough humanity to keep track of what was going on, Lupin could report everything to the Order and ways found to stymie the rescue when it actually occurred.

I'm glad I'm going to the clinic, he admitted to himself. He was happy his godson didn't know it, though. He preferred the boy to hang on to a few illusions about his head of house.

"Professor?"

Severus blinked. He'd actually fallen asleep in the chair. "What color is your potion now?"

"Dark blue. Yours is blue as well, but lighter."

"Good. Put in the last measure of aconite now, stir twice, and step back. You may wish to use the Bubblehead Charm again."

Draco did as he was told, then asked, "How can you stand to breathe in all this stuff every month?"

"Because I prefer it to having my throat ripped out," Snape said bluntly, watching the steam rise from his godson's cauldron and noting the deepening color of his own. He quickly chanted a Bubblehead charm for himself, then put in the final ingredients in his batch. Perhaps it wasn't such a bad idea to have an apprentice working with him after all.

"Oh."

Both cauldrons steamed and swirled as they went through their final reactions. Snape made a mental note that he was able to watch for any untoward changes better with being able to stand closer to the brewing process. He had to admit the Bubblehead charm had its uses during parts of the process, though not all. For some of the stages, being able to notice a change in smell was utterly necessary. But the charm was easy to put on and take off, and so could be adjusted as needed during the last run. However, as he wrote that bit up, he would be quite specific that it should be used only by those experienced with the Wolfsbane Potion, as it would be easy to miss some important changes if used during all the way through. I'll even credit Draco with the innovation, he thought. The boy will like that.

At last both cauldrons held a potion that was a pearly, misty gray. In the right light and in a glass container, it would shine a bit like the moon. "Draco," he said. "Fetch the bottles and fill them." He extinguished the fires and sat, noting how careful his godson was with the procedure. It was a good thing indeed the boy was here. His hands were shaking a little from fatigue, and he would have had to ask Winky to take over. This way he could pretend he was supervising instead of slacking off.

Just as the sky began to lighten, Madam Pomfrey walked in, her nose wrinkling from the stench. "All done, I see," she said. "Mr. Malfoy, you have two hours before breakfast. I suggest you shower and lie down for a quick nap. Professor Snape, come along with me."

"I shall deliver these to Professor Lupin first," he said.

"Very well," she said, with a look that said she'd have the whole story out of him as soon as he walked into the infirmary. "And I will collect you in person from the Great Hall in case you forget," she added as she left.

Snape held a small basket of bottles and shooed Draco back to his dormitory. "You may do better if you simply stay up instead," he said quietly once the mediwitch was out of earshot. "Only an hour or so of sleep doesn't help as much as she thinks."

"Don't worry, sir, Vince will wake me up just before class starts and I'll eat something out of the last package Mother sent me." The boy left.

"That might be best," Severus conceded. He had better wash off this reek and change robes himself before meeting the new day. He was tempted to nap as well, but knew from experience less than four hours didn't help him that much. Besides, for some reason he was wide-awake. He chose warmer water than usual for his wash, since after an all-night vigil he was easily chilled. Snape felt better in fresh clothing. He took the basket to Lupin's quarters and knocked on the door.

The DADA instructor was already up and invited him in for tea, though he didn't look well. "I should have completed this earlier in the week," Snape said by way of apology, knowing even the approach of the full moon had its own effects. For once he accepted and sat down without asking.

"I'm amazed you managed it," Lupin said, as he poured strong tea out into a couple of waiting cups.

"I don't know if you're going to use it all," Severus said. How odd. He should be terrified about now. No doubt he was just too ill to notice the fear, the way he'd been last summer. Of course, a basket full of Wolfsbane sitting on the table did help. "I know this weekend is supposed to be just a practice run. But be careful anyway."

"We won't be paid till after the actual attempt," Lupin said. "I just hope I'm not leading my friends into a trap." He sat down and blew on his cup to cool it.

"Don't we all. I want to remind you that the outside guards are centaurs. I realize they're your natural enemies in the wild, but you must remember to leave them alone. It's far more important to stop any of the prisoners from escaping. They will probably be using the Invisibility Potion I gave Malfoy, but unless the weather is foul, you'll likely be able to smell them."

"It's only a run-through this time. You worry too much."

Snape noticed Lupin was becoming slightly testy, both with the time of the month and his competence being called into question. "You believe what you're told?"

The wolf grimaced. "I see your point. I suppose you don't want to hear how I had to experiment with using only a partial dose of the potion at times in the past few years in order to make it last…"

"You're quite right!" He sighed. How interesting—instead of terror, he was being overwhelmed with blind rage instead. Severus stared down into his cup of tea, hoping it would pass soon. This was information the Order actually needed, though why the wolf felt inclined to confide in him was truly unfortunate. "You…you should talk to the Headmaster about it. There's a reason I put as much sedative into my version of the potion as I do."

"I normally prefer it that way," Lupin said. "But I need to have the other werewolves around me able to follow directions, even if I must express them badly."

"Aren't you the alpha of that pack?"

"Well, we've never been together on the full moon before," Remus said. "I suppose I should be, but one never really knows. I've never been an alpha. That was what James did." Then he flushed red.

Snape bit back some vicious words. They had to work together. As Poppy had reminded him, the Marauders were gone and could never hurt him again. "I hope in that case that this is a rehearsal, then," he said stiffly, and finished his tea. "It has been a long night. Thank you for the hospitality."

"I do hope they can help you at the clinic," the wolf called out as he left the room. "I am sorry brewing this potion is so difficult."

He went to the infirmary, knowing Poppy would make good on her promise if he skipped the visit "I left the potion with Lupin," he said, dropping into the visitor's chair in her office.

She looked up from some papers. "You should go to the clinic now," said the mediwitch.

"I won't argue, but I don't think they'll be ready for me till this afternoon. I can manage, Poppy. I've taught a full day feeling worse than this."

"I know." She looked unhappy about it. "Have you vented the dungeons yet?"

"I'm waiting till the little darlings have left for breakfast. The cold air will do any slug-a-beds remaining behind a world of good." He still hadn't worked out a way to heat the air as it came in. He'd have to ask Flitwick about that.

"I'm still tempted to order you to bed for the day," Pomfrey grumbled.

And he was severely tempted to accept it, should she give that order. He was about to say so when the Headmaster and a middle-aged Asian woman burst through the door. "Ah, there you are, Severus. This is Madam Tranh who will be teaching here next week. If she could observe your classes today, it would help a lot. Madam Tranh, this is Professor Severus Snape, who is undergoing an outpatient regime the Swiss have devised, and Madam Pomfrey, our most excellent mediwitch."

"Pleased to meet you," Poppy said, though it was obvious she wasn't. "If you or any of the students have problems, be certain to let me know. Potions is our most dangerous class, though I must admit Care of Magical Creatures is often close. We have one of the best safety records for a Potions Class in the world."

Madam Tranh nodded dutifully. No doubt her ears had been battered by the Headmaster's chatter since she'd arrived.

Severus wearily rose and escorted the editor of Potions Monthly down to the dungeons and took her around the classroom and lab areas. "This is Winky, the house elf who assists me, Madam Tranh. She is to be depended on. Winky, Madam Tranh will be here teaching while I'm at the clinic. Please help her as much as you do me."

The little elf vigorously nodded. "Master Potions Master very sick, won't rest here. Won't even lie down after making wolf potion last night."

Snape felt his face going hot. "I did have help last night, Winky, both yours and Mr. Malfoy's. I must admit I am a little tired."

The woman looked incredulous. "I had no idea…why did you have to do that?" Her light French accent was barely noticeable.

"One of the instructors here is a werewolf," Snape said. "It's my contribution to the safety of the school. Professor Lupin is generally quite easy to deal with in human form, however, and you should have no problems with him. In fact, he generally is locked in his office for the transformation and sleeps through the entire process."

"Oh." Madam Tranh blinked. "I can see I have spent too much time in an office full of manuscripts. Please, continue."

Winky scampered off ahead of them and pointed to a low set of hooks where her lab coat hung and gloves were kept. "And this is Winky's equipment," she said, clearly rather proud of having them now.

"Very nice," Madam Tranh observed. Snape steered her towards his office and sat. Soon the bell for breakfast would ring. He could already hear many of the students stirring.

"Once most of the children have left for breakfast, the dungeons will be vented," he said. "It's normally done at noon, but the Wolfsbane does leave somewhat of a reek. I'm certain the Headmaster has already explained the House system to you."

She nodded.

"Of course, he is not as well acquainted with each individual student as he could be. He simply doesn't have the time. I should discuss some of the more interesting ones with you while we do. Most of the first year students are reasonably inept. Miss Marcher from Hufflepuff enjoys the art of experimentation, however, and her friends are catching on to how much fun it is," he said.

Madam Tranh paled, as well she should. "How interesting," she murmured.

"I will admit, my favorite classes are the sixth and seventh years, as the subject is no longer compulsory and they have to do well on their OWLs in order to attend," he said, glad she understood the delight of students who wished to go beyond the book without knowing what they were doing. "Miss Chang in particular excels among the seventh years, as does Mr. Nott. You are fortunate to have missed teaching the Weasley twins, however amusing they were to others. In the sixth year class, Mr. Malfoy just finished assisting me with the Wolfsbane potion last night. I hope he is careful and does not presume he knows everything during the group project today."

"I can't believe you're trying to teach students that young how to brew such a complex potion!"

"I am certain you have heard about my bet with Magister Lowenstein in Geneva," he said. "The class does contain other students, however. Miss Lovegood is from an earlier year, but passed her OWL in Potions early from a summer correspondence program. However sound she is on theory, her brewing results are often...uncertain. Miss Patil often exceeds expectations. The younger Mr. Weasley is better at brewing than writing. Ask his younger sister Ginevra to interpret if you cannot read his essays. Mr. Potter is working much harder than last year. Mr. Longbottom…allow him to brew at his own speed. I shall work with him more when I return from the clinic. It is often better for everyone if he is not completed by the time the class is over, and that he is left alone."

"But I thought you had one student who…"

"Ah, yes. Miss Granger." He actually allowed himself to smile. "The story is true. Polyjuice in her second year, out of the book, in a deserted lavatory. It does sound like a game of Clew, but she managed it quite nicely. She has also learned to be more careful about the source of the hair she uses for herself as well. I will have to have her work off a detention with me when I brew the Wolfsbane Potion next month. If I had done so this month, she would still be asking questions."

The editor nodded. "At Beauxbatons, Potions is an optional class and few take it these days. It's considered far too dangerous, and Madam Olympe has wondered out loud if the school should continue to carry the expense of it, due to all the ingredients wasted. Fortunately for those of us who still care about French self-sufficiency, her budget has been increased providing she encourages more students to learn the art. I myself have taken seminars in how to teach Potions in a safer manner than in the past."

Snape bit his lip. He'd heard about some of the educational fads that plagued European academics. It couldn't be much worse than the Americans, who often went in for something called virtual experimentation, as he feared no magic could model the actual results of how real ingredients interacted with each other—oh, well. She would be here only a week. Surely she was not an advocate of what some called 'automated brewing'. The children would certainly revolt if she inflicted that particular method on them. "At Hogwarts, potions making and other sorts of magic are still highly individualized despite the needs for classrooms," he said. "We are not as far from the old master-apprentice traditions as some."

"Then it's about time they received a taste of the world outside their enclave," she said.

She was probably right. With any luck, he would not have to watch the upcoming debacle if she managed things with a high hand. After surviving Madam Umbridge last year, neither the staff nor the children were ready for another version. "There is the bell," he said, grateful now for its sound. "Please come with me to the Great Hall and sit up at the staff table as our guest." If only she remembered she was just that. "I appreciate you taking time from your busy schedule to assist for the next few days," he said as he slowly stood and forced himself to move.

"Frankly, I'm astounded you're not at the clinic," she said. "You have done some astonishing work, judging by the graduates who write for the journal. Although there are stories about this school that make some reluctant to apply here."

"Most of them are true," he said bluntly. "Hagrid has yet to bring a manticore to dinner, but that doesn't mean he isn't going to. Whatever the flaws of those here, however, they are far outweighed by their virtues. Even that wretched werewolf," he reluctantly admitted. As they left the dungeons, Snape quietly chanted the charm to vent them, and made sure the woman saw the wand motions properly.

Breakfast was an ordeal, but Madam Tranh managed to carry most of her own conversation, which allowed him to eat. Professor Sprout, in particular, had a number of interesting questions about certain plants.

Fortunately the morning classes were relatively calm, though many students had comments about the cold. However, the cauldron fires soon resolved that problem, as least once the classroom door was shut. Nearly all the students were intensely curious about Madam Tranh, but behaved themselves for once. Only a few mishaps marred the tedium, and those were easily taken care of.

During his morning break, he pulled out his updated lesson plans. "I won't ask you to try to catch up to where we really ought to be," he said, as they sat in his office. "And if you fall behind a little, it won't be a problem. I'm just glad the students won't miss any days of instruction while I'm gone. I tried the last expulsion phase here, but even I have to admit it didn't work out as well as I'd hoped."

The editor looked slightly stunned. "Are your classes always like that?"

"I have to admit they were better than usual today," he said. "I have no idea how they will behave for you, though. I suspect you will be on trial with them, and you should establish proper discipline the first thing. Some teachers prefer a softer approach. I have moderated my own style this year, and it seems to be working. But safety must come first, and their tender little egos second. With the schedule already established, you may find the morning and afternoon breaks helpful in trying to stay ahead of their ingenuity. I'm behind on essays again, unfortunately, though I may take some of them with me."

She looked overwhelmed. He didn't blame her. His first years of teaching here had not been pleasant. "If you have trouble, I am sure you will find the Headmaster sympathetic. He was a great help to me when I began here."

Winky entered the office with a snack and his potion, along with a pot of tea and some other food for his guest. "This for nice lady," she said, ducking her head.

Madam Tranh thanked the elf. Snape barely had time to eat his apple and drink his potion before the bell rang for resumption of classes.

The rest of the day continued along the same lines. Apparently his teaching style was far different than from what she was used to, given the expression on her face whenever some minor mistake threatened to disturb the routine she clearly expected instead. Snape didn't understand her consternation; he'd found the students unusually cooperative and hard working today. Just as well nothing really serious has happened so far, he thought. She doesn't look like she could manage a Longbottom-style disaster very well. Well, she can't do much harm to the class in a week, and if she doesn't work out, I'll try out someone else. He tried to recall who else had been on his list.

Once it was time for his afternoon lie-down, he was ready to do so. "Madam Tranh, I am supposed to rest now. I'm certain the Headmaster would have time for you if you asked. Winky would be happy to escort you. I know it's easy to become lost in this place."

She took the hint and allowed the elf to take her away. Severus sank down on his bed, and set his alarm to Really, Really Loud. His head swam, as in his sixth year class the odor of the ingredients had not agreed with him.

He woke to discover Albus sitting by his bed. "Why didn't the timer go off?" he asked, and sat up, only to feel so dizzy he almost lay back down.

"I have already taken the last class of the day," the Headmaster said. "Madam Tranh hasn't run out the gates screaming, either. Madam Pomfrey told me that she almost had you convinced to rest today after finishing the Wolfsbane, only to have me barge in with your substitute."

"She needed to see what the classes were like, especially the morning ones," Snape argued feebly. "Madam Tranh also needed to know which students might give her the most trouble." He sat on the edge of the bed, trying to regain his balance before trying to stand.

"You're right, I suppose. She was fairly indignant, too, I might add. Apparently in France any brewer of Wolfsbane receives the next day off by law. Normally their brewers complete the final stages during daytime, too."

"But it's not as potent then." Besides, during the school year there had been few times he could use a weekend to finish a batch anyway. Being a Head of House meant responsibilities then as well—especially the year Sirius Black had escaped and with Dementors on the grounds.

"Larger quantities are brewed to make up for that, apparently, though I was surprised as well. Winky has already packed for you, including some essays. You are not to work too hard on them while you're gone, though." The Headmaster looked stern. "I have hooked up my fireplace to yours, and from there I can establish a connection to the clinic."

Snape knew when it was best just to do as he was told. "How about the daybook I charmed for Madam Pomfrey? I know Lowenstein will want to see it."

"Already included. She was quite insistent on it. Your substitute will have all weekend to prepare for classes, and everything will work out just fine. Don't worry!"

The Potions Master sighed, and followed Albus through the fireplace to the Headmaster's office. From there he picked up his satchel, heavier than he thought it would be, and went back through the Floo once Dumbledore had established the connection to the clinic in Geneva.

Snape stepped through, absurdly glad he'd been spared even a rehearsal with the werewolves. He felt like a coward, and knew Bellatrix would undoubtedly throw it into his face for the next several months. Yet facing werewolves and Dementors at the same time could well be too much for his self-control.

An orderly relieved him of his satchel and took him to a patient room where he was forcibly changed into a tatty gown. He was served a small supper—and more potions—and told to stay in bed till the morning, when he would undergo testing. Snape was glad nobody seemed worried enough to keep him up half the night with diagnostics. The young man went off with the daybook, no doubt for Lowenstein's evening reading.

The next day his stomach began to churn after the first set of potions with his breakfast. He wondered how quickly he could bolt for the loo if need be. Then the Magister and his assistants trooped through the place and ran a battery of diagnostic spells. He knew he was still tired when he found himself dozing off during one of them. They probably included more of the sedative with the detoxicant this time, he mused.

He woke up to notice Lowenstein paging through the daybook. "This is quite helpful," said the middle-aged wizard. "I see you had a bad episode not after the last expulsion phase."

"I was forced to be active before I was rested," Snape said, not wishing to discuss his activities, or the penance he'd tried to inflict on himself because of them. The woman's death still lay heavily on his heart at times.

"And this list? What is that about?"

"Those are the ingredients for the Wolfsbane Potion, which I completed er, yes, yesterday morning. I have a trial hypothesis that making it may bring on an expulsion phase whether I'm really ready for it or not. I don't know if it simply makes me ill and I connect it with an expulsion phase, or if it's because I'm so tired from sitting up all night and having to teach the next day." He let his eyelids droop again. He knew being here was better, but all he really wanted to do was to sleep.

"I see. You know, maidenhair is one of the items in the potion to bring on the expulsion phase when the released toxins in your bloodstream become too much. Your exposure to it in the werewolf potion could definitely be a problem. I shall have to consider this. And this book is very helpful. Most of your phrases are quite descriptive, though I do not quite understand the one that says 'none of your business'."

"Madam Pomfrey is an experienced mediwitch, but there are some things a gentleman wishes to keep to himself." He hoped he wouldn't have to draw a picture.

"Ah! This is good. It is important that all of you recover from this ordeal."

Snape wondered yet again why he was bothering with this. If Flitwick was right, he wouldn't see another Christmas. Then he recognized this particular variety of gloom. He certainly couldn't blame all his wallowing on the potions, but it probably wouldn't hurt him if he did. And without this regime…tonight he would be facing horror of an entirely different sort.

After all, Flitwick could be wrong. Even Sybil could be wrong, though he doubted it. He took a deep breath. "I am not feeling especially optimistic about things," he said.

"I cannot expect you to. Sleep now. We will do what tests we can without disturbing you, and the rest can wait till later. Even the book is telling me you are exhausted, as if I cannot see that for myself."

Snape nodded and closed his eyes. He hadn't felt this wretched the last time. Well, he had made a bigger batch than usual, and had had to oversee Draco's as well. Lupin would likely have to share it with the other wolves for their rehearsal tonight, so he'd had the joy of making a more potent version and in larger quantities. How very special…

He awoke in late afternoon, as far as he could tell, with his muscles twitching under the skin and the taste of more potions in his mouth. This was something new, though. It was almost like the first time he'd taken the sedative and then suffered a light Crucio. He found the usual control he had over his hands was gone as well, and it was difficult for him to reach the bell, let alone ring it.

Lowenstein came to the room, with the daybook open. "Yes, it is most certainly the maidenhair," he said. "In small doses it relaxes the muscles, but it larger ones has the opposite effect."

"And in even greater quantities can be explosive if combined improperly," Snape added, who remembered the day last year when Longbottom had demonstrated it. He looked down at his traitorous hands. Even his arms were shaky now.

"We do not normally have patients who brew, let alone the Wolfsbane Potion," the other wizard said. "This effect is frightening, perhaps, but nothing serious. It is better if you take no potions for it. One of us will try a charm for it once all the tests are done. Since you must brew this one thing every month, I shall have to reduce the maidenhair in your potions at the same time. Oh, such a paper we will all write together on this!"

"Someone else will have to hold the quill," Snape said. He couldn't even turn the pages of a book like this, or hold a newspaper. He knew half the trouble he gave Poppy when he was stuck in the infirmary came from being bored. "I can't even read like this."

"We have no clinic elves who could read to you, alas," Lowenstein said. "Perhaps we ought to train a few of them. I can see you would be a challenge if you were in residence. You are not the only patient who becomes weary of no mind-food when visiting us."

Snape hadn't thought of that. Dobby could read, but was generally too busy to do so since he'd come to Hogwarts. He was fairly certain Winky couldn't, at least not yet. Perhaps the next time he was confined to the infirmary by this miserable body of his, his elf could turn the pages or hold a Prophet for him. Merlin only knew Madam Pomfrey would be ecstatic to have him busy with something besides complaining or trying to sneak out.

"It couldn't hurt," he said. "Although even the elves at Hogwarts sometimes forget their instructions, or decide to do what they think is better. Older ones start believing they're in charge if they've been with a family for a long time anyway."

"That is certainly the truth," the Magister said. "Perhaps I shall bring in a wireless. In Muggle hospitals, they have their television to keep the patients amused."

"You needn't bother," Snape said. "I can wait it out. Besides, I should only throw something at it when some dunderhead says something more stupid than usual. If I understood a word of it in the first place."

"You are right. Our wireless does not have many English programs. We had a patient here once, who needed work upon his eye who seemed to think he could read with the other during the actual procedure. It was difficult to explain to him how eyes move in concert, and that it would be quite dangerous for him unless he consented to let both go unused for the time we needed to take care of the problem. I had to find an Arithmancer from our academy here to converse to keep him from bolting."

"Alexandros," Severus guessed. "I'd heard he was like that." Vector kept them posted on advancements in the field whether they needed it or not, whenever she bothered to talk to anyone at the Head Table at all. "I'm not quite that hard to deal with, though I shall not vouch for Madam Pomfrey's opinion on the subject." He sympathized, though. How many endless hours had he spent in the infirmary in his life already? How much of the time he had left would be spent that way?

"I wish I could stay longer," the older wizard said. "But Johann will be along soon, and he will complete the tests. He will decide if you are truly ready for an expulsion phase or just reacting to your brewing. I like the way you have charmed this book, though. Most of them are filled out badly, if at all. May I borrow the idea for other patients?"

"Certainly. I have also set it to chime if I am severely injured or too ill to summon help."

"That is a very good idea." Lowenstein glanced around, then continued in a lower voice. "I am working on potions to help you with injuries or accidents, whether caused in the lab or other places. I understand a little of the danger you are in. I am surprised you are continuing with the regime."

Snape shrugged, then wished he hadn't. Any voluntary movement made his muscles shudder more than before. At least nothing was terribly painful. "I am, too. It is easier, though, to take time to recover from…other things, when I can blame it on problems with the potions regime. Even with the glop you make me take, my head seems clearer than in years past. I don't become angry as often as I used to, or can let it pass by easier. I think that's saved my life a few times already. The students are more careful now, after seeing what their horseplay can lead to. That can save their lives. I would like to feel well again someday, of course, but I did have one week not long ago that wasn't so bad."

"Yes, that means you are making progress," the Magister said. "Yet you likely do too much during those good days, and set yourself back again, or why residence is better. I must ask my great-aunt to speak to you, if she has time while you are here. She was in the Grindelwald War, and knows many things she does not speak of."

Snape nodded. It was clear the Headmaster had been speaking out of turn again, but with any luck the woman shouldn't be too intolerable. It was doubtful either the Ministry or the Dark Lord would pay attention to the ramblings of some granny with too much time on her hands.

"For now I shall send Johann in and let him make what tests he wishes. You shall not be bored with him around, I must guarantee you."

Severus found that to be the truth when the younger wizard came bouncing in with all the vigor and, one hoped, more sense than Gilderoy Lockhart. It did not help the two shared the same coloring. As Lowenstein retreated, Johann rattled off a score of questions, most of which were in English, and kept Snape busy answering them while being monitored by the apprentice's wand.

"This cannot be right," Johann announced mournfully as he saw the results of his diagnostic scans. "I have seen these things in veterans of the Grindelwald War, but never in anyone your age."

Snape was tempted to give him an earful, but somehow managed the patience to keep quiet. Enough people had said too much already. He entertained himself imagining the young wizard's reaction to Moody's various infirmities, and how the fellow would react to Mad-Eye's never-ending saga of how he acquired all his scars. "There is more to the world than Switzerland," he said.

"But to show this much damage, you would have started before you were old enough to go to school," said Johann.

"There are other kinds of wars. I suspect even this fine city has streets you wouldn't care to walk down at night, or even during the day. I shall have to give you a tour of Knockturn Alley sometime." It felt odd to realize how cramped the Wizarding World in England actually was. Karkaroff thought himself safe in Durmstrang. Perhaps if he had stayed there instead of coming back just at the wrong time, he would have been right. Yet now the Dark Lord was growing in power. Snape knew it was still his responsibility to fight him, despite the temptation.

"I am always being told I should do more work in the free clinics." The younger wizard sighed. "You are probably right." Then he chanted a spell. "That should help with the tremors. But you should be careful. When you are old, they will recur and should be looked at. I have never examined someone who has endured so much of the Cruciatus before."

"If you're researching the long term effects of the spell, there are two people in Britain in custodial care because their minds couldn't stand it. They recovered from the physical effects, but they don't even recognize their son."

"That is common with a very bad once occurrence," Johann said. "But those who have it many times and still survive may have it recur when they are old and no one knows why. We have several friends of the magister's family who undergo treatment for that now. You will probably have the same problem. Your muscles now react to too much maidenhair, I think, but later they could be quite painful."

I won't live long enough to find out, Snape thought. The years that didn't lie ahead of him echoed with their emptiness.

"Well," the younger wizard said when the silence became heavy. "I shall chart the results and put them in your file. You look steady enough to eat without help now. At least you have stopped losing weight. With luck you shall sleep well tonight. I have to warn you, tomorrow will be hard again, though not, I hope, as bad as the first time. Yet if you have expulsions more often, each one should be less painful for you."

Snape sourly thanked Johann, though he didn't feel like it, and watched the assistant leave the room. If Flitwick was right, he had only one more to go. He hated thinking Lowenstein would win his bet by default, though. He could claim either Draco or the know-it-all could brew the Wolfsbane without direction, but it wouldn't be true, at least not in the little time remaining.

He was still grimly happy the Head of Ravenclaw had told him his interpretation of Sybil's prophecy, though. How very silly he would look to find himself dead ahead of schedule. If nothing else, he could make sure Molly Weasley had Potter's guardianship, and not the Malfoys.

As he rested, the tremors subsided. He would have to remember the spell if he had this reaction later. An orderly brought him a tray. Snape forced himself to eat and take the viler-than-usual potion that came along with the meal.

After he finished, he looked at a few of the essays, hoping that would tire him out enough to sleep. The same orderly came to fetch the tray and suggested it was time to turn out the lamp and rest until morning.

Before Snape did so, though, he put on a robe and walked towards the window. The moon was full and golden, a true harvest moon. No, it's too late in the year for that, he thought. Then he remembered. This is a hunter's moon.

Lupin was the one in danger tonight. The Dark Lord didn't believe in rehearsals. Severus looked at the moon, feeling heartsick. He should be with the other Death Eaters tonight trying to sabotage the raid, not bundled up on a sickbed.

A thought struck him. Was this the way Dumbledore felt when he was out risking his life? He couldn't really say he was the werewolf's friend in the usual sense of the term, but yet—yet he couldn't stop worrying that the idiot furball would end up dead tonight. The rest of the Order will find a way to blame me for it, he thought resentfully. And they'd be right, too. I should be there instead of cowering in this clinic. I could have spent most of today resting in my rooms, and I would have been strong enough for tonight. I was only tired because of brewing the Wolfsbane, he fretted. I've faced Dementors before, and I survived. I'm better around Lupin than I was, mostly due to reading that silly book. I could have gone.

He hated knowing he would rather be here instead.