July 14, 1990
Miss Goode,
Since you expressed a desire to keep up a correspondence with me, I've taken it upon myself to send the first owl. It just so happens that I have your N.E.W.T. scores in my possession, and I hoped it might soften the blow if you were to hear the bad news from me.
It is my deepest regret to inform you that you did not, in fact, surpass my N.E.W.T. score in Potions, as you had been so very eager to do. However, I am pleased to report that you matched me by receiving perfect marks. (I don't know where you got it in your head that you could somehow exceed a perfect score. Arrogant much?)
I've included my copy of your results in the envelope. I don't know if it will help to expedite your departure for Albania, but I thought it might be worth a shot. Your official documentation should be arriving within the next two weeks. I hope you aren't feeling too put out by this overwhelming setback.
-Professor Snape
P.S. Congratulations, Potions Master.
/
July 15, 1990
Dear Professor Snape,
Thank you ever so much for the heart attack. Just the pick-me-up I needed this morning. I don't know how I'm going to cope with this devastating news, but I'm sure that I will find a way to carry on with this bitter disappointment hanging over my head. No idea how I managed to think beating your score was even a remote possibility. I must have received some vastly over-exaggerated encouragement about it at some point.
Seriously though, thank you for letting me know that I passed, and for including your copy. I would have surely spent the next two weeks fretting over it, but now I shouldn't have to. Instead I can concentrate on fretting over packing all of my worldly possessions, securing a portkey, moving to another country. You know, trivial stuff.
That reminds me of something I wanted to ask you before I left, but given certain circumstances, never got the chance. I'll be moving to Albania, where I assume they speak Albanian. How exactly to Wizards learn foreign languages? Is there a spell or a magical device I ought to know about, or do I need to take a crash course in Albanian at some muggle school? I'm sure I could ask Prof. Belby, but it's gotten to the point where I feel like I should have asked that months ago, and I don't want him to think I'm an idiot quite so soon. Since you already know I'm an idiot, I feel less humiliated asking you about it.
Thanks in advance!
~Gwendolyn Goode, POTIONS MASTER!
/
July 16, 1990
Miss Gwendolyn Goode Potions Master,
You're right. You are an idiot. However, a student is only as informed as her teacher, and perhaps that makes me the idiot for not teaching you this one myself while you were still here. Do forgive my lack of foresight.
On the back of this letter will be the formula for Polyglot Potion. Brewing is fairly simple; you can whip up a batch in an afternoon. However, some of the ingredients are expensive (i.e., Sphinx tongue). You might be able to save some money by brewing in bulk, which I encourage you to do anyway, since you'll always want a batch on hand. The potion is shelf stable for several weeks, so don't worry about it spoiling before you get to use it.
The properties of Polyglot are simple; each dose will grant you the ability to understand and speak any language being spoken around you. Think of it as Polyjuice's less talented cousin, and similarly, remember that the duration of its effects depend on how well the potion has been brewed. This refined formula should last you about an hour and a half, so either keep a flask on hand, or keep your outings short.
You'll likely be working with all English speakers anyway, but this ought to help, should you wish to venture outside of your little research bubble.
Let me know how it goes, and write again once you're settled in Albania.
-Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master (Before You)
/
August 1, 1990
Dear Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master (Before Me),
The Polyglot Potion is brilliant! You were right about Sphinx tongue being stupid expensive, but I managed to buy two of them without going broke. It ought to be enough to hold me over until I get paid. I brewed the first batch before leaving London and it turned out beautifully. Dealing with the Albanian Ministry and settling in among the locals has been a breeze!
Sorry for not writing sooner, but obviously it has been a whirlwind. I'm officially in Saranda, a coastal city on a gulf of the Ionian Sea. It's really unbelievably beautiful here. Belby has secured… what I can only describe as a castle, though it's nothing like Hogwarts. It looks like crumbling ruins to the muggles, and that's honestly not too far off from its reality either. I'll kindly call it 'rustic'. But I can see the Mediterranean from the hill we're on, and I'll gladly take 'rustic' if I get to wake up to that every morning. I'll be living here for the foreseeable future, along with Belby, Eleanor Young and Alexander Mali. I think you might know Mali? I remember meeting him briefly at The Atticus. They're both quite a bit older than I am, and they've been here for longer too. I feel like a first year again.
I'll have to tell you now, I won't be able to discuss the makeup of the potion itself in these letters. It's obviously proprietary, and I can't fault Belby for keeping it close to the chest. It's kind of a shame though; I would have liked to talk to you about it in detail, but I already have a few ideas for improving it based on your methods.
Research officially begins next Monday. Belby has 6 volunteer werewolves lined up. They're all Albanian natives, except for two who are Greek. They'll Apparate to the castle a few days before the full moon and stay here while we administer tests, and while they recover from their transformations. I hear they're being generously compensated, which I'm glad for.
We aren't giving them any potion for the first full moon though. We'll just be observing their natural transformation as a control. This castle has a dungeon with holding cells, and Belby has replaced the iron bars with silver ones. He apparently got those generous donations he was asking for. We'll also be using the applicable Protego charms, and those combined with the silver bars should be more than enough to keep everyone safe, including the werewolves.
Completely unrelated, the bottle of Phoenix Tears makes a lovely charm necklace.
~Gwendolyn Goode, Potions Master (Thanks To You)
/
August 7, 1990
Dear Professor Snape,
It's about 7 o'clock in the morning right now. I've been awake for nearly 24 hours, but I'm too shaken up to even consider trying to sleep. So I'm writing to you instead, because it's the only thing I can think of to do.
I witnessed my first werewolf transformation last night. I don't know why I was expecting Lon Chaney Jr., but I was an idiot for thinking it could ever be that simple. I don't think any horror movie could have prepared me for what it's really like. You're well versed in Defense Against the Dark Arts. You don't need me to describe it. But reading that their bones break and reform during their transformation is considerably different from actually hearing it happen. That popping sound is going to be in my nightmares whenever I finally do get to sleep.
After the trauma of the transformation came the observation. Mali, Young and I were each assigned two werewolves to survey for the night, with Belby overseeing all of us. We noted any behaviors that appeared to be unique to each wolf, so that when we start administering potion next month, we can see if there's any marked difference in the way they act under its influence. It was exhausting, mentally and emotionally, to sit down in a dungeon behind a barrier spell, and watch two wolves systematically tear themselves apart. Grey Wolf was prone to chewing and scratching herself, while Brown Wolf spent his time charging the bars and scraping at the floor until his paws turned bloody. I obviously can't give you their real names, but they've been assigned as my charges for the remainder of the research project. I just finished administering Blood Replenisher's and applying Essence of Dittany to both of them. The aftermath was just as horrific as everything else. I've always fancied myself to have a strong stomach (when I'm not being slipped Purging Potions), but I came dangerously close to losing it most of the night. I've never seen gore like that outside of a movie theater.
Reading back, this might make it sound like I'm afraid of them. I'm not. But my heart aches for them. Grey Wolf was only turned two years ago, while Brown Wolf has been afflicted for almost his entire life. To go through this every single fucking month for an entire lifetime… It only strengthens my conviction that I'm where I need to be. If this potion Belby has developed really is a cure, or an inhibitor, or at least something that can make this condition easier to bear, so many people will be relieved of their suffering, and hopefully get to shed the stigma they've been burdened with through no fault of their own.
I feel a little better now. Calmer anyway. I think I might be able to sleep. Sorry for the downer of a letter, but writing to you seems to ease my mind. Next full moon we start administering potion, so hopefully I'll have better news then.
I hope you're well.
~Gwendolyn Goode
/
August 9, 1990
Dear Miss Goode,
I'm sorry to read that your first experience with the project was so harrowing for you. However, you're right, Lon Chaney Jr. was a poor expectation to have. Good D.A.D.A. professors are hard to come by these days, it seems; I wish you had been more prepared, and I should have had the foresight to warn you about the realities of it myself.
Beyond my interest in Defense Against the Dark Arts, I also had the misfortune of encountering a fully transformed werewolf in my youth. I'll spare you the details of my own teenage idiocy, but suffice it to say I'm intimately aware of just how fearsome and dangerous werewolves can be up close. I commend Belby for his innovation with the silver bars, but all the same, I'm glad you are keeping the Phoenix Tears close.
You say you aren't afraid of them, but do consider that a modicum of fear can be healthy, especially if it aides in your self-preservation. I can hear your Hufflepuff heart breaking from here, so I'll use my Slytherin cynicism to remind you that no matter how lovely Miss Grey and Mister Brown are between moon cycles, neither will hesitate to kill you while under the lunar influence. Use your empathy to care for them when the sun rises, but don't let it cloud your judgment at night. Even once you start administering potion, it could take years to get the formulation perfected to a point where your wolves become lapdogs. Or preferably just stay human.
I'm sure that witnessing the next transformation will be less traumatic for you. I don't recommend getting your hopes up that the first potion variation will have much effect, but at least you're prepared for what's coming now. If you find writing to me in the wee hours of the morning to be a comfort, then I'll be awaiting your owl after the next full moon. I suppose I ought to take some responsibility for sending you out into the world so direly underprepared.
Stay safe.
-Severus Snape
/
April 3, 1991
Dear Professor Snape,
Not much to report after the full moon on Saturday; it was about the same as the last one. The potion continues to make the wolves more docile, but they're still spending the night pacing the cells, growling and snapping at us, being restless. They act less like rabid wolves and more like scrappy stray dogs, which I guess is an improvement, but they still remain dangerous, so is it really? And Miss Grey started self-mutilating while transformed again, so that was a bit of a step backwards. Time for more adjustments I can't talk to you about. Hooray!
Anyway, another standard full moon report isn't my real reason for writing you. Something… odd happened last night, and I thought it might be of particular interest to you. Miss Gray took a little longer than usual to recover from her transformation this time, so she stayed at the castle with me until Tuesday. On Tuesday night, she was feeling in much higher spirits, so we went to our favorite local bar, the Rathskeller, which is attached to one of the inns in magical Saranda. Nothing about this is particularly unusual; we (i.e. Mali, Young, our volunteers and I) all go to this bar together pretty regularly because it's close to the castle and it's nice to socialize outside of the project. What was unusual, was that I saw Professor Quirrell at the bar last night.
I honestly wasn't sure if it was him or not at first. The only time I ever met him was when he came to my home the summer before my first year to tell me that I was a witch. I recognized his face almost instantly, but he seemed like a totally different person from the pleasant (if a bit shy) man that came to my house that day. I never took Muggle Studies or anything, so I don't know if he's changed over the years. I didn't talk to him directly; I wasn't sure if he'd even remember me. I'm sure he gave 'The Talk' to plenty of half-bloods and Muggle-borns so why would he? But Grey and I did sit kinda close by him at the bar, and he was just acting so paranoid. Stuttering and stumbling over his words, constantly looking over his shoulder, stuff like that. It was weird. Equally weird was the turban. Has he had that for a while, or is that a recently acquired accessory for him? He wasn't at the bar for too long; I think he had a cup of tea or something, and then headed upstairs, where I guess he's staying at the inn.
It was just surreal seeing him there. Why isn't he at Hogwarts? Did he quit or something? I know it's the middle of spring semester, and it's certainly beautiful here, but I don't think Saranda is a primo Spring Break locale. I wish I'd just gone and talked to him myself, but… Oh well. Here I am talking to you about it instead. I'm just burning with questions, Professor, so don't leave me hanging!
~Gwendolyn Goode
/
April 5, 1991
Dear Miss Goode,
Setbacks in research are to be expected. There are so many variables that finding a perfect formulation less than a year out would be nothing short of miraculous, and not every variation will result in an improvement to the potion. I am sorry to read that the setbacks are having a negative effect on the volunteers though. It sounds like you and Miss Grey have become quite close; I didn't realize that you were permitted to socialize with your subjects, but I suppose it makes sense, given the length of time you'll be working together, and the level of trust that needs to be built. Just remember what I said last year: don't let your guard down just because she's your friend when the moon is waning.
Now, on to your burning questions. I must confessed, I was rather shocked to read your letter. Last we heard from Quirinus, he was in the Black Forest in Germany searching for vampires, and was going to be heading to West Africa next to investigate an influx of zombies. Albania was never mentioned in his itinerary. I should explain, he hasn't quit; he's supposedly taking a sabbatical to "gain firsthand experience" in Defense Against the Dark Arts, which he's slated to be the teacher of next year, much to my chagrin. For as long as I've known him, he's always held a theoretical fondness for the subject, but never once had he expressed a desire to teach it as well. The rest of the staff here at Hogwarts was baffled when he announced that he was going to quit Muggle Studies and take a year off to hunt monsters instead.
As for his behavior, I agree with your initial assessment; the man has always been quite amiable, but he's timid to a fault. I've been working with him for nearly 10 years now, and though we've never been close, you still get to know a person after all that time. This paranoia as you describe it is news to me (as is the turban), and frankly it's troubling. If he's been intentionally seeking out the dark arts for months now, it's not entirely out of the realm of possibility that he's been cursed or otherwise influenced by something to cause that sort of shift in personality.
I know you wrote to me essentially seeking out juicy gossip, and I gave you conjecture in return. We won't get any definitive answers until he comes back to Hogwarts in September. That being said, if you see him again, I think it would behoove you to avoid him. I don't like the sound of all you've described, and you've certainly got enough on your plate as it is. Continue to use your better judgement.
-Severus Snape
/
November 4, 1991
Snape,
Were you going to tell me that a mountain troll made its way into the Hogwarts dungeons, or was I just supposed to read about that in the Daily Prophet myself?
~Gwen
/
November 5, 1991
Miss Goode,
To be fair, I was dealing with a considerably larger and more ferocious problem at the time. I didn't even get to see the troll until it was already effectively knocked out, by a group of reckless, insolent first years no less (can you guess which House?). Suffice it to say I've got my work cut out for me this year. If you're looking for more details than The Prophet could provide, I'm afraid those have been hard to come by. No one knows how a bloody mountain troll made it into the castle, but I have my suspicions that somebody let it in. And I think you know who it is I suspect by this point.
I'll assume all is well on your end. The work must be getting quite intense if all you can manage to write is one incredibly cheeky sentence.
-Severus Snape
/
June 13, 1992
Gwendolyn,
I hate to write you so close to the next full moon. I know your workload increases around this time, but I felt it was important to write you about this as soon as possible. I would rather you hear it from me (and no, it isn't going to be a petty joke about N.E.W.T.'s this time).
I'm sure you already know by now that Quirinus Quirrell is dead. His obituary appeared in the paper recently, citing his demise as being the result of a 'workplace accident.' That's putting it incredibly mildly. I think he got caught up with much more than he bargained for while in Albania, so I advise you to continue using extreme caution whenever you leave the castle. Whatever Quirrell picked up while he was there might be making its way back.
That isn't what I wanted to write to you about though. Dumbledore has already chosen the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for next year. I'm certain that the announcement will be headline news, and I wanted to let you know personally, before you came across it in the Prophet… It's Gilderoy Lockhart. I believe Dumbledore has taken him on as a teacher in an attempt to expose him for the slimy fraud he really is. But I sincerely have to wonder at what expense.
I suppose I ought to add 'keeping an eye on suspicious D.A.D.A. professors' to my job description. But I will keep an eye on him nonetheless. I won't allow anyone to fall prey to him again while under my watch. And I'll be more subtle than punching him in the face this time.
Don't hasten to reply. Get through this next moon and write to me when you can.
-Severus Snape
/
June 20, 1992
Dear Severus,
It's been nearly a week since I received your letter. I'm sorry for the delay, though I know you understand.
I feel like we're finally getting somewhere with this potion. We've figured out that administering smaller doses in the days leading up to the full moon yield a stronger calming effect than just giving them one big dose on the night of the full moon. Some of our volunteers are even reporting being able to remember what they do while they're transformed, which has almost never been the case before.
They're starting to retain their human consciousness while they're transformed, but sometimes they still can't control their impulses, especially where 'prey' is concerned. We have an impeccably rat free dungeon these days. But I feel like we're getting so close. A few more adjustments in the ingredient ratios and we could have a potion that renders a werewolf completely calm and docile while under the effects of the full moon. Perhaps not the cure we've been looking for, but I really believe we're on the right track towards developing one.
Alright. I guess I can't pad this letter any further. Thank you for telling me about Lockhart. For not letting me find out about this through the papers. I don't know how I would have reacted, seeing that. Betrayed, maybe, since Dumbledore knows what happened. But I hope he will be successful in his attempt to expose him, even though I'm not sure how he's going to do so.
I still wonder sometimes if I did the right thing, by not telling anyone, by not trying to expose him myself. It felt like the right thing to do at the time, but what if he's taken advantage of other people since me? What if I could have prevented that by telling my story and warning people about him? Even if nobody really believed me, it would have made people question him, right? I know it's no use dwelling on What If's. I've finally learned that, but sometimes it still sneaks up on me.
Maybe it's because I'm utterly exhausted, but I think it's rather sweet, you promising to 'keep an eye on him' on my behalf. I appreciate that, especially because I know you'll do it, too. Please don't punch him in the face again, because I don't want you to get in trouble. How do you think he'll react when he sees you again? Do you think he'll even remember? Part of me hopes he doesn't.
I promise to keep my wits about me. I'm rather sorry to hear about Quirrell, actually. He seemed like such a nice wizard the one time I met him. I can't imagine what he 'picked up' while he was here to cause him such harm. But I certainly won't go out looking for it.
Thank you again.
~Gwendolyn Goode
/
October 12, 1992
Severus,
This isn't a cure.
Last night, Belby decided we've reached peak formulation. The ratios, the administration, the effects. He's decided they're all perfect and we don't need to do any further improvement, only test this final formula to make sure we continue to get consistent results.
And I can't deny that the results are good. We've achieved complete cognizance in transformed werewolves; they're entirely in possession of their human mental faculties while they're in wolf form. They remember everything that happened after they turn back. They spend the full moons sleeping now, curled up in their beds and completely ignoring the external stimuli we send in to the cells. They won't even bother with rats or rabbits any more. They're completely aware and docile. They're harmless.
But this doesn't feel like a victory to me.
I asked Belby if we would continue to work towards finding a full cure. You know what he did? He laughed at me. He didn't even answer me, he just laughed and ruffled my hair like I'm some sort of child. Or a Hufflepuff, I guess.
I thought we were going to eradicate this affliction. I thought we were going to end the suffering of all lycanthropes, and end the stigma that hangs around them. We haven't invented a cure. We've invented a band-aid, and I'm sick about it.
You probably think I'm over reacting. It's just that I put my heart and soul into this project. Maybe I'm desensitized to it, having been consumed by it for over two years now. Should I take this for the milestone it is, or fight to continue further down the path because I'm not happy with the destination we've come to?
I'm sorry. I realize that I just word-vomited all over this page. That can't be very attractive. Please don't call me a Hufflepuff Bleeding Heart too though.
~Gwendolyn Goode
/
October 13, 1992
Dear Gwendolyn,
While you are, in fact, a Hufflepuff Bleeding Heart, I don't think it's unusual that you're feeling disappointment over something like this. You entered into this project believing you were going to do one thing, but ended up with something else. However I also think you ought to be proud of what you have accomplished. You haven't invented a band-aid, you've invented a safety catch for a loaded gun, to use another muggle metaphor.
I realize that I am speaking from the point of view of someone who is not a werewolf. Obviously, your personal goal has been to help werewolves themselves, but consider the fact that you are helping to keep non-werewolves safe as well. You're right, this may not strip away the stigma that werewolves have carried on their backs for hundreds of years, but it may begin a shift in public awareness. People are much less afraid of a dog with a muzzle on.
I think what you've accomplished is admirable, Gwendolyn. I know you've put your heart into this; you've done so with everything you've ever worked on. Just because this research project has reached a conclusion does not mean that your personal research has to end here. Celebrate this milestone now, and then one day consider that you can head your own project to put an end to lycanthropy once and for all.
I'm proud of you. Don't lose your focus because of this; you still have a few more moons to go, and you need to stay sharp. But know that you've done well.
-Severus Snape
/
December 24, 1992
Dear Gwendolyn,
I can't recall if we've ever discussed Pensieve's before, but I'm sure you're familiar with the concept of scyring bowls, yes? Trelawney told me you learned about them in divination, at the very least. Inside of the package this letter was attached to will be a bottle, and inside of this bottle is your Christmas present. I thought with all of the stress you've been under, you could use a pick-me-up. Pour the contents of the bottle into the scrying bowl, and dip your face into it. Just trust me on this; it will be quite worth it.
Happy Christmas
-Severus
/
December 25, 1992
Dearest, Sweetest, Most Incredible Severus,
Do you really call sending Gilderoy Lockhart flying across a room with a perfectly cast Expelliarmus being more subtle than just punching him in the face?
I can't believe you did that. Or, well, I can absolutely believe you did that, but I can't believe that you were just handed the perfect opportunity to end this man's whole career. Did you really volunteer to be his 'assistant' (oh my god his ASSISTANT!)? And he just accepted? Is he an idiot? He can't have just completely forgotten about what happened. Did he think he was going to be able to best you instead? Holy shit, he's a fucking moron!
This is, by far, the best Christmas gift I've ever received in my life. If I can figure out how to get your memory back in that bottle, I'll cherish this just a much, if not more, than the Phoenix Tears. Oh my god, Severus. You're absolutely savage.
Happy Christmas indeed!
~Gwendolyn
/
January 9, 1993
Dear Severus,
Every lunar cycle is the same now. We give the potion to our volunteers for 7 days before the full moon. On the night of the moon, they transform, they snuggle around in their bed sheets for a little while before sleeping the rest of the night, and then after they transform back they're only a little lethargic for a few days before they're feeling better again. I think I can safely say at this point that this potion has been perfected, at least by Belby's standards. I think he's looking to start drafting the patent papers soon.
But something has been bothering me, and it's not just because we haven't found a cure. This potion is expensive. I can't tell you the ingredients yet, but I think you can guess what a few of them are (typical werewolf repellents). If it were a one and done cure, the cost would be of no concern. But to make enough to last for seven days, every single month? Most werewolves don't even have jobs, much less the financial stability to be able to afford to make 84 doses of this potion a year.
I brought this up to Belby and the others… and I was laughed at again. Severus, it's like they don't care. We've been working with these werewolves for years, and Belby and Mali and Young don't even care that they're never going to be able to afford to even make this potion that they helped us perfect. I don't know what the solution to this problem is. I thought perhaps some sort of legislation that would end the discrimination that allows employers to reject someone based on their status as a werewolf. Or maybe subsidizing hospitals to offer completed potions at a lower rate. No one took me seriously. What was the point of inventing this fucking potion if werewolves aren't even going to be able to utilize it?
I get the sinking suspicion that Belby is a Slytherin. Can you confirm that?
-Gwen
P.S. God. I'm sorry. Happy birthday, Severus.
/
January 11, 1993
Dear Gwendolyn,
Not the birthday card I was expecting to receive, but I'll take what I can get.
Joking aside, I understand your concern. I'll be interested to see the patent once it's released. If the ingredients are what I think they are, you're right; this potion will be quite expensive to brew. I'm not sure of a solution either, though both of your ideas have merit, if you can get the Ministry to agree with them. I'm a little appalled by how unprofessional Belby and his colleagues are being towards you. Did something happen?
As it turns out, your suspicion is valid. Belby is indeed a Slytherin. I'm sure you're recalling back to when I said a Slytherin would be eager to make advancements in potions for the notoriety, while a Hufflepuff would do it to help people. I don't know if that's the reason why Belby isn't taking your suggestions into consideration. Perhaps he has done this for the fame and recognition. But Gwendolyn, that does not diminish the importance of the work you've done.
Remember what I said; the development of this potion alone could be what it takes to shift public perception. You're not the only one in the wizarding world who cares deeply about the rights of creatures and wizards alike. That bleeding Hufflepuff heart of yours is an asset, not a hindrance. And frankly you wouldn't be you without it. Use it to your advantage.
-Severus
/
March 9, 1993
Dear Severus,
Last night was our last full moon. Belby is submitting the patent at the end of the week. When our volunteers recover from their transformation, they'll all be heading home for the last time. They seem happy with the work we've done. I hope you're right about the public eye shifting their perspective after this potion goes public; I want nothing but the best for them. All of them. They don't deserve to be pariahs because of something they can't control. But at least now, they might be able to get some control over it.
When the volunteers go, we're supposed to leave the castle as well. But I think I'm going to stay in Albania a little while longer. I'm not sure how long, but I just feel like my business is unfinished here, somehow. Maybe I'll just sight-see or something. Visit the muggle side of town. I've been here for almost three years and never left the magic district.
I hope I've done the right thing. I hope that this was all worth it, and I can maybe help more in the future.
I'll be in touch.
~Gwendolyn
/
May 6, 1993
Dear Gwendolyn,
I've just received a copy of the patent for the Wolfsbane Potion. I have to say, this formula is absolutely ingenious. I can see that you made some significant contributions, because frankly, this potion has my fingerprints all over it. I'd be interested to see what this potion formula looked like before you showed up. It's utterly brilliant.
Will you be returning to London to receive your Order of Merlin? Can I get an invitation to the proceedings? I'd like to congratulate you in person. Just telling you that I'm proud of you on paper doesn't seem sincere enough.
-Severus
/
May 21, 1993
Severus,
I'm not getting an Order of Merlin.
Belby didn't even include me in a footnote on the patent.
He paid me in cash, so I have no proof that I even worked on the potion.
I don't know what I'm going to do any more.
Gwen