FRESH RAIN

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

MOTHER OF INVENTION

"It's not a notification spell, it's a summoning spell!"

The shout through my silent quarters from my fireplace startles me up from the sofa. Bobica's head appears there, his face alight with excitement.

"Can I come through?" he asks before doing it anyway, not waiting for an answer. He doesn't bother brushing his clothes off in the hearth, and scatters ashes around my small living space. He hurries over to me, holding a small black box in in his hands.

"Summoning spells only work over a distance shorter than about 100km, right? So, what if the caster of the Summoning isn't a person, but a device?" He holds the box up in his hands, a mad smile on his face. He looks like he hasn't slept in days. Or shaved. Or brushed his teeth. "Look, I created this device, and one at my house. Take this, and watch, I'll be back soon."

Bobica shoves the little plastic box in my hands and shouts through the fireplace back to his home.

Bewildered, I stare at the thing. It's sturdy, but not heavy. It begins emitting a pulsing red light, and within a few minutes a thumping sounds at my door. I open it and a bottle comes soaring in; the top of the box opens, and the bottle flies into it, the top shuts, and the light goes out.

Almost immediately, Bobica comes crashing through my hearth, panting with excitement. "Did it work? Is it in there? My light went out." He opens the box and pulls out the green glass bottle. He meets my eyes, beaming.

"What did you do? You're shaking, sit down before you pass out. Have you even eaten today?" the clock on my wall says it's half ten.

I pull Bobica to the sofa and he sits reluctantly, still thrumming with excitement, turning the little bottle in his hands.

"It's just a Summoning spell. With a whole system attached to it. Look, we provide storage areas every 100km throughout the UK, we only need as much space as your average room, and labeled shelves. Enough room to hold space for each potions company that we provide service for. There's only what, four or five major potions companies around here, right? One shelving unit for each company, with a box for each potion, so even with the obscure ones, that should be enough space. Now, each product has a label, on the inside of each label will be a sigil and a tracking number." Bobica pulls open the label on the bottle in his hand and shows me the circular sigil and the twelve-digit tracking number. "The sigil is unique to each potion, tracking number to each bottle. The sigil is embedded with the Summoning spell that is activated with a master sigil in the production company. When that master sigil is activated, the sigils on the potions activate the Summoning spell, and they fly to the nearest collection location. Each box has Wizard space, so they'll hold the entire country's worth of potions. The box shuts and locks, and when every one has been collected, the light goes off on the box and we can collect and dispose." He looks at me with frantic relief in his shadowed eyes. "No more leftover bottles. No more missed kids."

I take in the exhausted, manic, proud relief in his face. It's been nearly a year since his sister died, and his time since then has been less and less on his studies, and more on this mission to prevent her fate befalling any other children.

"It's good work. You should be proud of yourself." I take the bottle and box from his hands and put them on the sofa next to me. I take him by the elbow and lead him over to the small table and sit him down there. "When was the last time you ate, Logan?"

He raises bleary eyes to me. "I'm not sure. I hit the stride on…Wednesday? I've been going ever since. I failed the sigil a few times, and I almost blew my eyebrows off once."

"Wednesday…It's Saturday! Have you not slept or rested or eaten since then?" I round on the boy with angry concern.

"I had to. I couldn't stop. Once I found out what I had to do, I couldn't stop, or it might have gone away." He looks at me, despondent. "I couldn't stop. I couldn't let it happen again."

I sigh and pull out some leftover ham and roasted potatoes, heat them with a charm, and put the plate down in front of Bobica. "Eat. And when you're done eating, go take a shower and lie down." I point to my bedroom.

With the ravenous speed expected of someone who hasn't eaten in days, Bobica attacks the plate. He shakes his head and says around a mouthful of meat, "I can floo back home."

"Not in your state, it was risky to do so the two times you already did. I'll send an owl with a note to your family."

"I'm not a child anymore, I don't need to report to them," he sneers.

"Even so, if you weren't to let them know you're safe for a whole night, they would worry."

"None of them even listened to me." His fork hits the ceramic plate with a clatter. His stormy blue eyes meet mine. "My parents don't even talk about Juniper. When I try, they get angry and walk off. After her funeral, it's like she never existed. I told my mother about this project, she asked why I couldn't let my sister just rest in peace. I…I just want to talk about her." The boy rests his head on folded arms on my table, exhaustion stealing his emotional control, and begins sobbing.

Unsure about what else I can do, I pour a glass half-full of Ogden's finest and set it in front of him, then settle myself into the seat across from him. "I'm aware I'm no parent to you, but you may talk to me about her if it would help," I offer after a moment's hesitation.

Logan looks up miserably at me, considering my sincerity. My face must show my earnest; he takes a gulp of his whiskey and fiddles with the glass as he opens his mouth a few tries before his voice works for him.

"I was twelve when Juni was born. Mum and Dad were done having kids, but she came anyway. She was always a step ahead of what anyone expected her to be. She was having conversations with me at eighteen months, she was writing and doing basic math at three, she was just so incredibly smart." He smirked. "Mum couldn't keep up with her. If she had a question she just had to get the answer, it ate her up until she knew. She asked why the moon changed, and Mum tried to explain phases to her, but couldn't get deep enough as to why. I had to explain exactly how far apart the moon and Earth are, how far apart from the sun, how shadows happen, I charmed a projection in her room to show her the orbit and how phases happened. The look of wonder on her face, I've never seen anyone else with that look. She was so fascinated by everything around her.

"That was the last thing I taught her. I boarded the train for sixth year the next day." He finishes his drink and grimaces. "She was the only one of us that was headed anywhere important. She was only four, but I could see it. I never knew what I was gonna do with my life. The twins…Holly's so conceited, all she wants to do is find a wealthy ministry official to fund the life she wants to be accustomed to. Ivy's sweet, and smart, but she's as listless and without purpose as I am. Tay's good at Quidditch, but I think Juni was born with his share of brains, and he never developed any empathy." A fresh wave of tears wells in the boy's eyes. "I was so excited to see that little girl grow up. And no one cares."

I think to when I had seen Logan's mother in the hall of the hospital. The grief I had witnessed on that woman's face had been sharp and consuming. It was hard to reconcile the mum I had seen with the woman Logan was describing. "When I saw her at St. Mungo's, she was so consumed by her grief that she had to be taken away because she was just screaming in the hallway. Perhaps shutting everything out is her way of not feeling the pain."

He nods once. "That's what I think. But it's not healthy for her, and it's not fair to the rest of us. And what about Dad? He's grieving too, but I never see him. He's so wrapped up at work, sometimes I wonder if he even comes home. You would think if your kid dies, you'd want to make sure you spend as much time with your others as you possibly could, but it's like he's repulsed by the rest of us. I don't think he and Mum have even spent more than a couple hours a week in each other's presence since all this began." Bobica swipes roughly at his eyes as tears begin to fall again. "My whole family is falling apart, and I can't stop it," he mutters miserably back into his hands.

"All right. You're overly tired. Get to sleep now, we can figure this out in the morning." I rub his upper back and pull him out of his chair, lead him to the bedroom. He kicks his boots off and falls into my bed. I tug a spare pillow from him and a blanket from the closet.

"Thank you," he says quietly.

"You're welcome. Get some rest." I close the door behind me and make my own bed on the sofa.

I try to let myself fall asleep, but I can't shake the image out of my head, Logan's mother bent in half, clutching a mint green blanket clutched to her as though it was the only thing tying her together. To think that had nearly been a year ago. It's late August, only a couple of days until the Bobica children are to be on the train to Hogwarts. Objectively, I can see how his parents fell into their new habits. After the children returned to school after the funeral, Logan's mother continuing to refuse to speak about her, and his father working excessively to keep his mind from the tragedy, reinforcing that habit of not speaking about the child, because there was no one to speak to.

My mind is drawn to Harry and Lily, returning to old paths of rumination. What would have happened if Lily had lost Harry? I know that these what-if paths are futile and dangerous, but it is an anxiety that I can't shake.

And, just like that, I can't get to sleep, my mind running rampant with imaginings of my life without Harry, of Lily's life without him. I toss and turn for nearly an hour before glancing at the clock. It's nearly eleven here, which means nearly ten in Titchfield. Lily goes to bed anywhere between eight and midnight, but I figure I may as well try my luck, and roll myself off the sofa.

My first order of business after settling in to my cottage had been to connect it to the international floo system. Blanca hadn't wanted to do so before, understandably, the cost was ridiculous. I paid for it from part of the tidy sum the sale of my house had given me. This had allowed me to join Sunday dinners with everyone more often, much to my pleasure. Portkeys and multiple apparation finally a thing of the past for me, more than worth the cost of connection. Besides, it really was necessary if I'm to continue to make Remus' potion each month.

I toss a pinch of floo powder into the hearth and stick my head in. Lily's living room is dark and empty. "Lily?" I call quietly. If she's upstairs in bed already, I don't want to disturb her. A moment later, the light on the landing upstairs goes on and I see her descend the steps, fluffy robe and slippers on, toothbrush in her mouth. She ducks down on the steps just long enough to peek at me in the hearth, beckons me to come in, and turns back up the stairs. I'm only waiting in the living room a moment when she comes back down and wraps me in a quick hug.

"I almost didn't hear you. Is everything alright?" she asks.

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm sorry if I've disturbed you."

She looks at me carefully. "No, I was only starting to get ready for bed, you didn't disturb anything. You look upset. What's wrong?"

I shake my head, suddenly embarrassed at myself. "The Bobica boy came by and tested a prototype of the project he's been working on since his sister's death. Call me a sentimental fool, but it had me thinking of you and Harry, and I wanted to ensure you both were safe."

Lily smirks at me and pats my cheek. "Aww, how cute."

I swipe her hand away from my face. "Bite me."

"Do you want to go up and check on him?" she offers, half with kindness, half with that teasing smirk.

I say nothing, but head up the stairs.

The familiarity between the two of us has returned since our spat the last days I lived here. She won't hold my hand or kiss my cheek like she used to, but perhaps that's for the better, no matter how platonic it was. We tease and bicker like we did before, no longer tip-toeing around each other. It's an immense relief. Still, however, there remains tension in the air, an unacknowledged elephant in the room.

Harry is in his cot, peacefully asleep, snoring softly. I pull his red blanket up a little to cover his chunky legs, and he sighs and sucks at his lips. I sit in his rocking chair and just watch him sleep for a few minutes. He's just over two years old, and still growing. Seeing him once a week is enough to mark the differences a mere seven days makes in him. His hair has gotten long enough to curl at the ends, he gets annoyed by the tickling in his ears and the back of his neck, but Lily hasn't the heart to cut it just yet. "Leave him his baby curls just a little longer," she barks at Lupin when he teases her about it. There's dirt under his fingernails, which usually means he got into the potted plants again after his bath. He's got a fascination with his mother's ferns, taking every moment she's not looking as a chance to run off and plunge his fingers into the potting soil.

Lily slips into the dim room and places a hand on my shoulder, squeezing lightly. "We're both fine, Severus," she whispers.

I shake my head. "I couldn't make the thoughts stop. I know you're both safe, but I saw Bobica's mother right after she lost her daughter. Against my will, my mind replaced her with you, and I can't describe the impetus that drove me here to check on you both. I don't know what I would do if something happened to Harry."

She tentatively wraps an arm around my shoulders, and after a moment rests her cheek on the top of my head. This is the most physical contact she's initiated in months with me, and I know she's warring with herself between offering me comfort and keeping this awkward, painful distance between us. She casts my silencing charm, but still speaks quietly, "I worry about that every day, ever since he was born. Since I found out I was pregnant with him," she amends. "It's part of being a family. Part of being a parent. And you are like his extra parent, for how much you've been involved in his life this past year."

I shake my head. "I'm more like an uncle, the way the mutts are."

She smacks my shoulder lightly for my dig at Sirius and Remus. She stands in front of me. "They didn't care for him while I was in hospital. They didn't live with us. They didn't toilet train him or sing him songs that he gets mad at if anyone but you sing," she says with a little mirth. "Uncles bring presents and have fun and make messes they don't have to clean up. They can hand him back over when it's tough. Uncles don't stop in in the dead of night because they couldn't sleep for worry." Lily sighs and looks over at her son, still sleeping soundly. She doesn't meet my eyes anymore. "I…I know we don't talk about this, and we don't ever have to again if you don't want to…but despite your…our…feelings about—around—each other…you're as much a step-dad to that boy as if it were legal. I know it's tough now because of your apprenticeship and being away so much, but that doesn't take that away. Harry needs you, as much as he needed James. God, not that I'm replacing or comparing the two of you…" she holds her head in her hands for a moment. "I'm not saying this very well, am I?"

I sigh. The longer we've put this off, the harder it's been to talk. I do not want to have this conversation, not right now, but I open my goddamn mouth anyway, aiming for diplomacy. "It's not a conventional situation. It's not fair to anyone to compare it or judge it against anyone else's," I concede. "I got the opportunity to be his de facto parent while you were unable to, and you were kind enough not to take that from me. I am forever grateful for that. I love Harry as much as I would love a child I fathered. And…" I swallow thickly, gathering what little nerve I have. "It's no secret that I feel for you in ways that are not appropriate to the situation, and my only excuse is that I have felt this way since childhood and know no other way to feel. It's gracious enough that you haven't evicted me from your life altogether, let alone allow me to continue my relationship with Harry as it is." I heave a little sardonic laugh at myself. "Believe me, I had no intention of you ever knowing how I feel. It's not something I wanted you to worry about. I would hope that you know I would never pursue you like this, recovering and grieving and getting your feet under you. Even if I did…stand a chance. Our friendship is more important to me than any…romantic gamble I could make."

Lily fiddles with the cord on her fuzzy robin's-egg blue robe. It makes the bright red threads in her hair stand out starkly. "I'm glad to know, so that I don't inadvertently hurt you like I did the day when we met with the contractor. And I hope you know how sorry I am for how I acted that day. You're my dearest friend and no matter what else happens, that will always come first. I only hate that I'm hurting you."

"The only thing that would hurt me is if you felt guilty or obligated because I can't get a handle on my own feelings. It's my responsibility, not yours. All I ask is that you continue to let me be in your lives as I have been."

Lily shakes her head. "I don't see that changing any time soon."

I smile gently at her. "Then there's nothing to worry about."

"Good. Do you want to stay for a drink?"

I stand from the chair and shake my head. "I probably shouldn't. Bobica is asleep at my cottage and I shouldn't leave him unsupervised much longer in the state he's in."

She smirks again. "Look at you, getting fatherly with every available child."

"Shut up," I growl at her, no real bite in it. We walk from Harry's room together, with one last glance at the boy.

As we make our way back to the fireplace, she asks, "are you still coming for dinner tomorrow night?"

"I plan on it. I have some work to do, but it shouldn't keep me from being late."

"I think Remus was planning on inviting his friend, Callum? The one you were going to help with the Wolfsbane?"

I nod and open the jar of floo powder, swirling it absently with my finger. "That's alright with you, isn't it? He wanted to meet me outside of a professional setting first."

She nods and waves her hand. "Remus cleared it with me earlier."

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"Have a good night."

The next morning, I call on Blanca to explain my late night visitor and ask if he can come to the main house for breakfast or if she would prefer that I keep him at mine. She scoffs as if offended that I would possibly think another mouth to feed would be an inconvenience. I normally take breakfast and dinner with her, and despite my aptitude in a kitchen she refuses to let me help. I can't help but feel slightly mothered, and it's not an altogether unpleasant thing.

So I wake Bobica around eight-thirty, because I still have things I need to do, and can't afford to dally this morning. He takes a shower and uses my razor and comes out from the bathroom looking like a completely different person than the one who maniacally accosted me the night before.

"I'm not sure what I could do to help your situation, but I could try to talk to your mother and father, if you like?" I offer as we walk toward the main house.

He shakes his head. "No, I'll deal with it. If it's the same when Christmas break rolls around, I'll figure something else out. I apologize for last night. I barely recognize myself thinking back on it. I was frantic and crazed."

"You were running on no sleep or rest or food for days. Lack of sleep like that alone will mess with your system."

He nods thoughtfully. "I'm just glad that I was able to figure it out. Now I can start on refining it all and think about production. I appreciate all of your help."

"I don't think I did much to help you save for being an available body to test on."

"No, you've let me bounce ideas off you, when I thought it needed to be a potion or notification spell, you helped me muddle through that. You helped me get answers when no one else would."

The leaves crunch under us as the main house comes into view, smoke rising from the chimney and the smell of cooking vegetables wafting from the kitchen window. "That smells delicious," Logan says.

"Blanca is a wonderful cook. She's warm and kind, just don't put your elbows on the table." He raises an eyebrow at me and I roll my eyes. "She stabbed me with her fork the first time I did that, it bled for half an hour."

He nods. "Noted."

After feeding the boy until he couldn't possibly fit another bite into his stomach, I take him back to my cottage to floo back home, then trudge back again to the main house and into Mistress Marckwordt's potions lab.

I've been working on the Wolfsbane potion again, trying to find a way to encapsulate the aconite. Unfortunately this herb is proving tricky to work with. I have tried efforts to get the herb to dissolve slowly in fat, but the fat samples I have tried it in just die as soon as they touch. It also eats away at stomach acid after twelve hours, so it can't slowly release in stomach acid as is. I knew aconite was a tricky thing to play with before starting this project, but I'm still frustrated and disheartened. I had hoped by the time Callum contacted me I would have some kind of answer for him.

My latest experiment was to see if I could mix the essence of dittany together with the aconite to see if they could cooperate, save the human pieces while suppressing the wolf pieces at the same time. The first part of this test is to see how they act together in the base potion. I let them sit for 24 hours.

"Do you need me over there?" I hear from the other end of the lab, where Mistress Marckwordt is focusing on her own brewing.

"No, Ma'am, I think I'm alright. Just trying to work this puzzle."

"Let me know," she says dismissively.

Monday through Friday 9 am to 6pm is reserved for formal tutelage, but since she has her own life and I want to collect my hours as quickly as possible, weekends and after-hours I can take or leave as I wish and rack up hours doing my own personal projects while she works on hers. Not all time spent is in the lab. I also tend a garden and do my own research in Blanca's extensive library, located in a loft above the dining area.

In six short weeks, I've managed to get through just past 350 hours. With any luck, at this pace, and taking time off for Christmas and some time in summer, I've got about a year and a half left.

I look into the shallow stone basin to check on the aconite and dittany. "Shit." The dittany has wilted the aconite. I banish the contents and open my notebook to write down my notes of failure with my griffon feather quill.

By the time three o'clock rolls around, the tension in my shoulders is unbearable, and I'm very done with trying to solve problems for today. I'm looking forward to being able to unwind with everyone. I take a shower to get the stains off my fingers and try to release some of the tension built from leaning over a table all day. I change into the jeans Lily bought me ages ago and a black button-down shirt. My hair is still damp when I leave.

Stepping into Lily's living room, I'm met with some mouth-watering aroma coming from the kitchen. I brush off my clothes as Lily calls to me from the den. She and Harry and Sirius sit in there, music playing softly in the background. Harry's entangling himself in some yards of fabric, shiny green and sparkling violet. I kiss his soft head on my way in.

"I a pince!" he exclaims in excitement.

"And a very handsome prince you are."

"Hey, how did it go today?" Sirius asks as he shakes my hand without getting up from the sofa. Lily clasps my hand briefly before I go to sit down on a chair.

"Not well. I tried mixing a couple of ingredients for the Wolfsbane potion, but they didn't react as I had hoped." I sigh harshly as I settle back, and scratch at my damp scalp. "I have a few other ideas, but that was my biggest hope for success. I enjoy a challenge much more when people aren't actively waiting on me to solve it."

Sirius pats my knee once. "Hey, Remus is happy just to get the potion as it is. And this Callum guy isn't looking for a miracle, he's just willing to be a guinea pig for you."

"I understand that, but it's such a volatile potion, it's already barely balanced as is. I have to get it just right or it goes from a useful tool to a weapon. Even if I get there, it's likely going to be such a fickle thing that I'm not sure if I should patent it."

"Well it would be patented under you, right?" Lily asks.

"Right, however, I would have to register it with the Ministry, they would have to run their own tests on it before it could be put out publicly. I'm worried that, if my ultimate goal is reached and it is able to completely suppress the transformation, then certain people up toward the top will realize that the entire mindset around werewolves will have to be re-conditioned, and it's going to be 'too much trouble' to get an entire country to see them as people again. We all know what happened with vampires in the 1800's. They're still registered as dark "creatures" even though they're still human and can take a simple blood replenishing potion to control their bloodlust. The ministry campaigned for maybe a year or two, found it was too difficult to change people's minds, so just let it go. They're still stigmatized to this day. So, I'm worried they won't ration out the potion that stops the werewolf's transformation for the same reason." I wave my hand dismissively, "but that's just a pipe dream, I don't think I'll be able to get that result, but it's what I'm hoping for.

"The second part is that this version I'm working on now relies heavily on silver. Whether I'm just able to make the dose doled out over two or three days but works the same as the current Wolfsbane, or it has my ultimate goal of complete suppression, each batch will need to be made specifically for the person it is intended for, based on height and weight, so as to toe that line between safe and poisonous for the wolf counterpart. I don't trust Ministry brewers to such a task, they're already underpaid and overworked; and even if I were to open my own shop, and charge the bare minimum, there's still people who couldn't afford it and would have to go to the Ministry."

"So there's ups and downs of patenting and registering versus keeping it quiet, then," Sirius says with a small nod.

"That's assuming I can even get the fucking thing to work." I scrub my face with my hands and growl out, "enough of that, my head's going to explode. Did you get to hex anyone at work this week, dog?"

Sirius chuckles and lets me change the subject, "no, but I did get to blast down stone walls in an underground labyrinth instead of just following the thing, so that was very satisfying."

After a bit of talking, we move up to the kitchen island to sit while Lily stirs the stew sitting in the slow cooker. She gives me a knife and a few heads of broccoli for me to chop. She knows better than to set Sirius a task, so he keeps half an eye on Harry.

It's a little after six when the floo flares twice, announcing Remus and Callum. I hear a hushed, reassuring voice, answered with an even softer nervous one.

"Here, hang your coat in here, you'll be fine," he says, and the two men appear in the hallway whilst Remus hangs up a tattered trench coat in the closet.

The man, who I take is Callum, is very tall, taller than I am even, and he passed thin about two stone ago. The man is clearly emaciated. Blue eyes as pale as frost dart nervously around the house, between the three of us in the kitchen, taking in everything and considering the threat. His dark blonde hair and beard are matted, and scars litter his arms under a baggy, dingy t-shirt that I think used to be white.

Lily steps around the island and into the hallway to greet them.

"Hey, Lils. Smells great in here," Remus says as he kisses her cheek.

"Thank you. Hi, welcome. Callum, right?" she asks the man as she shakes his hand.

He nods. "Yes. Thank you for having me over." His stance is stick-straight and stiff, anxious and wary.

"Of course. Come on in, make yourself comfortable." She leads him over to another barstool and he sits carefully on it. "Do you want something to drink?"

"Water?"

She sets a glass down in front of him. "This is Sirius, and Severus. He's the one working on modifying the Wolfsbane potion."

"I appreciate your willingness to work with me," I say as I reach out my hand to him.

His hand is calloused as it grasps mine. "I appreciate the opportunity."

"Where are you from?" Sirius asks.

Callum clears his throat. His voice is like sandpaper, deep and crackling. "I was born in Edinburgh, but I've not lived there since I was very young. I've traveled all around since then."

"Severus, can you help me with something in the living room?" Remus asks. I follow him back.

"Subtle," I jab.

His upper lip twitches. "It got you here, that's all that matters. What do you think?"

I shrug. "I don't know yet, I know nothing about him yet. He's so thin."

Remus frowns, nodding. "I know. Everyone from his group is dirt-poor, but Callum's completely destitute. The campground where he lives is where everyone meets. They bring him what they can, but he ends up having to forage a lot."

I shake my head. "I don't know if I can work with him. What I'm doing is highly volatile stuff, he's so weak I could kill him on accident."

"I was afraid of that."

"Look, let's just…get through dinner, he and I can talk more afterward. We'll figure something out to at least get him to the point where I can work with him, maybe a couple months down the road. Before I start working with him as a test subject let's try to get him taken care of as a human."

Lupin's mouth quirks again. "Why Severus Snape, you're not about to go around taking care of someone, are you? Wouldn't that ruin your tough persona?"

"Watch your mouth before I hex that caterpillar off of it." I turn on my heel and return to the kitchen.

Lily has replaced Callum's water with a mug of hot cider with what I suspect is no small amount of whiskey in it. The man has relaxed considerably, smiling tentatively at Sirius' retelling of his week at work.

When dinner is served, he dives in, and Lily just keeps quietly filling his bowl until he's had four servings and finally waves her ladle away. He swipes a chunk of bread around the bowl, gathering up the last of it, relishing the last bit. "That was wonderful, thank you. Best meal I've had in years."

"Well you're welcome anytime," she says sternly. The hidden threat is, 'if you starve rather than let me feed you, I'll drag you here by your ear'.

"Yes, ma'am."

"If you're ready, why don't you and I talk about this project?" I suggest. He nods and I pull out my notebook.

"I'll do the dishes, Lil," Sirius offers.

"Thank you. I'm going to take Harry for a bath, I'll be back down soon."

Callum, Remus, and I move so we're closer together at one end of the table, and I lay out the notes for them to see. "So, the main components of this potion are aconite, powdered moonstone, essence of dittany, valerian root, and powdered silver." Both men flinch slightly when I talk about silver. "The base is basically the same base for the essence of dittany healing potion, but then you put a portion of finished dittany in as a functioning component of the Wolfsbane potion. This protects the human counterpart from the aconite." I point to a graph I had drawn out. Aconite was written in the middle, with four arrows spearing out from it. I pointed to the end of one of the arrows, where dittany was written. "Same with valerian root." I pointed to another arrow, where such was written. "It works to calm and sedate both human and wolf counterparts of the person. Powdered moonstone," at the end of the third arrow, "sooths the emotional instability of the wolf, and the mental stresses placed on the human. Silver suppresses the baser instincts of the wolf, the violence. The aconite in the middle here, that's to keep the wolf from being venomous, that was the original intent of the potion; that if Damocles couldn't stop his lover from changing, at least he would make it so she couldn't spread the curse."

Callum nods. "So then how are you proposing to change these properties in the ways you want?"

I shake my head. "My last theory proved to be a dud. So, I'm trying to come up with something new. I promise you, if nothing else, I will make your Wolfsbane potion as standard until I can come up with something new.

"Unfortunately, that brings me to another problem. The balance in the original wolfsbane potion is already very temperamental. The alterations I'm working with make it even more so. Unfortunately, your…physical state as is will make it impossible to safely test these out with you. We need to get you better fed and under safe shelter."

Callum's brow knits indignantly. "Why haven't I thought of that before? I'll just stop being unemployable and make sure I can eat. No problem."

"Callum, no one here is insensitive to your situation," Remus cuts in with gentle firmness. "But your safety is the most important thing in this process. I've offered our spare room countless times, and now I think you should take me up on it."

"Countless times I've told you that I don't want to impose. I don't want to cause problems, being a second wolf in the house."

"We can handle it."

I interrupt, "it's really as simple as this, Callum. If you want to be part of this project—and I want you to be—, you need to be in better health. Take Remus up on his offer, even if it's just long enough to get on wolfsbane and be able to get employment to get your own place."

Callum shakes his head in thought and chews absently at the edge of his thumbnail "Don't mistake me, I am very grateful to you, Severus. This is the kind of opportunity that most people only dream of having. But I've never wanted to put anyone out because of what I am."

I wave my hand. "As for me, it's nothing I'm not already doing for Remus, and I just don't want anyone to be hurting."

"I can't pay you anything," Callum says lowly. "I can pay off my debt to you after I'm able to be stable and earn some money."

"No, you're a subject in my research. That means all costs are taken care of by the person conducting the experiment. It's standard."

His chuckle is rough. "I really am a guinea pig, aren't I? I'm furry enough for it." Behind the humor, I can see the genuine hurt in his eyes.

I shake my head. "No, this is standard. It wouldn't matter if I were testing a pain-relief potion revision to someone without lycanthropy. The cost and the treatment would be the same." I tap a finger into the table for emphasis. "The prejudice against those who have no control over their curse is disgusting and de-humanizing. I have never held any contempt for werewolves."

"Well…" Sirius and Remus say at the same time. Sirius is done with the dishes (how many times has Lily said that magic can't be used on her grandmother's silverware?) and comes to sit next to his lover, wrapping an arm around him.

"No, no. I despised who you were as a person, not as a mongrel."

"Fuck off," Remus says congenially, with a grin.

Callum, watching the interaction, smiles in amusement, relaxing again.

"I'll see to it that you have the potion this week, Remus gave you the dose for yesterday, right?"

"Yes."

"Right, then I have doses for the both of you for today. For ease of everyone involved, and the safety of you currently and going into this process, I have to urge you to take Remus up on his offer."

Callum looks between Remus and Sirius with a wary set to his mouth. "You're certain that I won't be a bother?"

"Yes," they say together.

"It will only be for just as long as I can get my feet under me," he says, as though desperately trying to assure himself more than the other two men.

"As long as you need. There's no time limit."

He nods. "Alright. I'll need to go back and get my things."

"That's fine. Is there anything you need tonight, or can we get it tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow is fine."

A long, tense moment passes before we hear Lily's footsteps on the stairs. "Sev?" she comes down with Harry, fresh and clean and smelling lovely, his curly hairs still wet and plastered to his head.

"Hm?" I ask as I take him from her. I set his bottom on the table and tickle his sides.

"I was thinking. Aconite isn't strictly a magical plant, right? Muggles can use it as well?"

I nod. "Yes. In fact, everything except the dittany crosses into muggle use, though as for everything else, they can't tap into it as well as magical people can."

"Do you remember my mother suffered with her diabetes for decades before the end?" I nod, she continues, "one of the medications she was on was devised to have an 'extended release'. I'm not sure how it works, but she took one pill per day, and it managed to release steadily into her system throughout the day. It may not be perfectly applicable to your ingredients, but it may be something worth looking into."

I can feel my expression freeze as I think. Yes, that was basically the result I was looking for, in much more organized thinking than I had been able to put in my own mind. It would be entirely possible to use muggle techniques in this potion, depending on what they are. "I'll need to do some research, then. That's pretty much the idea behind my goal. Thank you."

Sirius laughs at me. "You should see your thinking face. I thought you were having a stroke!" the idiot is slapping his hand on the table, bent over laughing.

"I should think you look in the mirror often enough to know what that looks like. Although, short-term memory has never been your strong suit."

"Hey!"