Severus turns his attention to Hermione. Hermione's friends are starting to worry about her.
Murder, Magic, Mayhem, and Madness
Christmas Approaches
Hermione loved Christmas time at Hogwarts, but this year she'd be celebrating Christmas in Malfoy Manor. She'd put her name down for passage on the Hogwarts Express, and then the next morning she received a letter from Lucius, saying that he'd lift the wards on the Manor for her at eleven the Monday she was scheduled to depart. Hermione sighed. She wanted to ride the train with her friends. Lucius had promised that she could visit the Burrow on Christmas affternoon and the weekend. She would also see the girls for the rehearsal on the thirtieth and again the day of her wedding on January second. Of course, she knew that the day of her wedding would be hectic, with everything going on all around her, so that day didn't really count as spending time with anyone really.
Hermione decided to be honest with Lucius and simply explain her feelings in a letter. "Surely he'd understand," she said to her owl, Ofelia, as she tried to tie on the letter. "I mean that this is one of the last times I'll have on the train with my friends."
"Hermione, c'mon," Margery complained from beside the door of the owlery. "It's bloody cold out here, and it's not like your owl cares that you'd prefer the train to Apparation. She'll fly to the Manor regardless."
Hermione stopped and blew on her hands to try to make them work better in the bitter cold. "I just know that Lucius is going to think it's because of him somehow, or that I'm having regrets."
"Well, aren't you?" Margery asked, stomping her feet and hugging herself to try and stay warm.
"Its pre-wedding jitters, and I do like Lucius, a lot. I'm going to marry him, aren't I?" Hermione asked defiantly.
"I know, you like Lucius, but do you love him?" Margery asked earnestly. "I know you're going to marry him, but how well do you know him? You keep saying it, I'm going to marry Lucius, I love Lucius, over and over every night, like you're trying to convince yourself, but are you sure you really do?You never call yourself Mrs. Malfoy. You never test his name out with yours. It's just… are you sure about this?"
Hermione looked at Margery in disbelief. "Of course I do—am. I thought you liked Lucius? I thought you were happy for me!"
"Hermione, I know we haven't been friends long, but are you really sure about this? It's just that ever since the Headmaster broke the Fidelity Charms on your ring it seems like you've been having doubts."
Hermione looked at Margery astounded by her comment, but she had turned to look over her shoulder. When Margery faced her again, rubbing her arms against the cold, Hermione opened her mouth to retort but she cut her off.
"It's just that I'm not the only one to see that you have a thing for the Headmaster. Ginny said you fell for him pretty hard over the summer, but that he hexed you something awful, and then the next thing she knew, you were practically living at Malfoy Manor. I know Lucius gave you a ring in November in Hogsmeade, and that he's been handling all the wedding details."
"He's not! We have been discussing everything by owl!" Hermione exclaimed, her owl and letter suddenly forgotten.
Margery shook her head. "I've seen the letters, Hermione. It's 'I ordered the cake. I chose white chocolate with a cream frosting. Is that all right with you?' Or, 'I have arranged for a string quartet to play in the grand foyer. Is that all right with you? I thought that turtledoves would be nice. Is that all right with you? I ordered the new china. I arranged the menu. I thought you'd like my favorite champagne for the toast. Tell me what you think.' That's him planning everything and telling you after the fact—and you say yes to everything."
"What's wrong with that? He has excellent taste," Hermione said, bracing her hands on her hips. Ofelia hooted to remind her that she was waiting.
"It's not you!" Margery said imploringly. "Don't take this wrong, but you are an organizer, a planner, bossy, a bit controlling, and you take charge. I've admired you for years, looked up to you. I never thought you'd accept me as a friend, but you have. Thing is, I've always wanted to be you—well, except my first year, you were in the hospital nearly the entire year. I didn't know you well then. But the point is this…" Margery waved her hand up and down, indicating all of her, "isn't you!"
Hermione was taken aback. Margery wasn't the type to be so easily riled up. She was usually so easy going and optimistic. "But everything he's done—it will be so lovely."
"But is it you?" Margery asked. "Okay, maybe I'm out of line here. But the potion in the chocolates—what was that all about? And the bottles he sends you—what's in them? You always have those erotic dreams after you drink it, like you're actually making love to someone. I mean, the dream I had after eating the chocolates—that's a love potion. Why did he send you that? And if you're so in love with Lucius, why are you always watching the Headmaster? Why do you still call him Severus? Why do you hurry to his office after every prefect meeting? Every time you come up with excuse to see him you practically run to see him. You've even invented stuff."
"I have not!" Hermione denied venomously.
Margery crossed her arms. "Why did you have to go see him when he was injured?"
"He was hurt! I was concerned!" Hermione said indigently.
"You begged, pleaded, and argued with Professor McGonagall until she relented and let you go see him, and then you spent all evening with him. And you went back the next day and the next..." Margery sighed. "All I'm saying is that I think you were hurt when the Headmaster told you to leave him, and you hooked up with the first wizard that came around," she said, her voice getting softer. "Tell me I'm wrong."
Hermione didn't know what to say. Margery was only being honest with her and a bit too insightful—except for the part about Severus. The Ofelia hooted and nipped at her sleeve. Hermione turned and tied the letter to the patient bird's leg. "I'm sorry," she appologized as her owl flew off, and she turned to face her friend. Margery was looking at her with an expression of friendly concern. "I don't… I mean, I… He doesn't. I'm getting married in eighteen days!"
"I know. But that still gives you eighteen days to decide if this is really what you want," Margery said. "Look, its freezing. Let's go back to the common room, okay." Margery turned to leave, and Hermione followed her out. Out on the steps she turned to face Hermione again. "Are we okay? I mean, I didn't upset you…"
Hermione smiled and hoped it didn't look as weak as it felt. "We're fine. I appreciate you being honest with me, but its okay. I'm fine. This is what I want."
Margery nodded but looked unconvinced. "Yeah, sure," she said, and turned to go.
Severus walked up the steps to the owlery to send a letter. The truth was he wanted out of the office and this was simply an excuse. The crisp, cold air was biting enough to make him forget the nagging of the portraits regarding Hermione Granger. If he didn't know better, he'd think that Dilys was trying to play matchmaker, and Fortescue and Dumbledore seemed to agree with her whole-heartedly. He stopped to look out at the grounds from the vantage point of the outdoor stairway, a few steps down from the door to the owlery. The girl's voices inside carried out to him, and he paused to listen, trying to discern who was inside. He didn't want to just walk in.
He was surprised by Miss Woozencraft's suggestion that Hermione was having regrets about her wedding. Not that I care, but all young engaged girls go through a period of uncertainty… don't they? The seventh-year girls in Slytherin always have reservations about the marriages their parents try to arrange for them.
"It's just that I'm not the only one to see that you have a thing for the Headmaster. Ginny…"
Her statement shocked him. Hermione really does have a thing for me? Severus leaned against the wall and listened as Miss Woozencraft continued. Her summary of the events of the summer was bluntly accurate, which meant that Hermione or Miss Weasley had told her everything. Miss Woozencraft's rant about Lucius handling all the arrangements for the wedding wasn't a surprise; Lucius wasn't the type to leave much to chance. But the girl was right, it wasn't like Hermione to simply hand someone else control over something as important to girls as their wedding day.
Severus was about to turn and leave when Miss Woozencraft mentioned, "You always have those erotic dreams after you drink it, like you're actually making love to someone."
Love potion filled chocolates? And Lucius was sending Hermione a drink that induced erotic dreams, what's that all about? From the little he'd heard, Severus became suspicious. Then the girl began to rant about Hermione's apparent infatuation with him. I know that Hermione still has some feelings for me—but could she still love me? He listened carefully. Apparently Hermione's friends think that she does. Hmmm.
"All I'm saying is that I think you were hurt when the Headmaster told you to leave him, and you hooked up with the first wizard that came around." Miss Woozencraft's voice was getting softer. "Tell me I'm wrong."
That is precisely what happened, she was betrothed to Lucius before I even got off my sick bed… in two days she was dating a wizard that used to hate her. Severus exhaled slowly then realized the girls were moving to the exit. He turned quickly and ran down the steps as quietly as he could. When he knew he was out of sight from above, he started walking up the stairs again, deep in thought about what he'd overheard. Severus tried to recall what Hermione had said about their relationship. She started dating Lucius the eighth of August, two days after I'd hexed the girl from my room. She'd become betrothed by the twenty-eighth, and received her ring, formalizing it in November… If I didn't know better, I'd say Lucius made his move on the night I'd hexed Hermione… She'd said she'd seen him twice before they started dating… He'd used the Adulterare Impietatis and the Proditionis on her ring! He didn't trust her…
Hermione and Miss Woozencraft greeted him as the girls drew close. He greeted them both politely, allowing Miss Woozencraft to pass, then Hermione, making sure that Hermione brushed his body slightly. Hermione looked up at him with a startled expression that also had the unmistakable look of sexual awareness from the contact. "Miss Granger, a word," he said smoothly.
"I'll just see you in the common room." Miss Woozencraft's lips almost curled into a smile before she waved and hurried off.
He turned his attention wholly on Hermione. He wanted to ask her about the chocolates and the drinks, but didn't know how to ask her without tipping his hand to his eavesdropping. "I understand that you have requested a ticket for the train. Will you be visiting with the Weasleys over Christmas hols?"
Hermione bit her lip, something she did when nervous or contemplating a problem. He'd wager on nervousness. "I will be spending half of Christmas day and Saturday with them, yes, but the rest of the time I'll be staying at Lucius' place."
"At the Manor?" he asked, fully aware that was what she meant. "The whole two weeks?"
"Yes, we are to be married on the second," she said, unable to meet his eyes.
"The day before you return to school?" Severus asked, surprised by the news. Drugging her with potions… Is Lucius planning on having her pregnant by the time she returnes? He's not giving himself much time to impregnate her if that's the case—unless he uses the two weeks… or a blood ritual… No one would be the wiser. He took a risk and moved closer to her, standing on the same step with one foot on the step above, effectively trapping her against the wall. "Is that what you want?" he asked silkily, gently catching an errant curl of her hair and rolling it around his fingers as he pushed it off her face.
She looked up to answer him, and he leaned in and kissed her. His kiss was ardent and hungry, demanding and forceful. She responded to him in kind, almost losing her balance as he pressed her against the stone wall. When he broke the kiss, her eyes remained shut for several heartbeats, and she leaned into him. Yes, it's still there: the spark, the delayed reaction, the heavy breathing, unsteadiness on her feet… Why Lucius then? He kissed her again, softly and tenderly, hearing her moan in desire. He broke the kiss and watched her reaction; she wavered a bit and then fell back against the wall, her eyes opened. He could see her desire, the raw emotions reflected in the amber brown and gold. "Hermione."
"Yes," she said softly, expectantly, sucking her lower lip under her front teeth.
"Come by my office tonight," he suggested silkily, toying one of her curls.
She nodded, a smile stretching her bottom lip out from under her teeth. He sensuously kissed her again and then backed off. Once again, Hermione nearly swooned, leaning forward as his lips left hers. He moved away, and she fell heavily against the wall with a sigh. He watched her, feeling smug at the response his change of tactic had on her, then turned abruptly and walked up to the owlery. He stopped at the doorway to turn around to see if she was still there. She was still watching him, standing on the stairs as if in a daze. How in the world could I be so blind?
That night, he took Hermione up to his sitting room, away from prying portraits. He'd started the evening discussing his latest project in Potions research, not that he'd actually had any time to work on it further than in theory. He listened to her input and suggestions, his amuzement carefully masked with a look of interest. Before long she was on his lap and they were kissing on the sofa. She didn't once protest or mention her fiancé.
Back in his office after Hermione had left, Everard scowled at him, berating him for taking a student to his chambers, to which Dilys told him to mind his own business and beamed at Severus happily. Forescue applauded him for finally taking action. Dumbledore warned him about propriety and appearances with a twinkle in his eyes, while Phineas scolded him for his inappropriate behavior. Severus turned and left the room just as the usually quiet Carwyn Moncrieff congratulated him on choosing so well.
Ginny and Amanda were sitting on Margery's bed, discussing plans for Hermione's bridal shower, when Hermione came in looking like she'd just been stung by a Billywig. "Look at her. She never looked like that after spending an afternoon with her fiancé," Amanda said.
Ginny and Margery turned to look at Hermione just as Hermione's euphoric expression slowly changed to one of guilt as her gaze scanned all the bouquets of flowers in the room. Her shoulders sagged slightly as she walked to her bed and sat down. She picked up the letter that had come earlier, reading the identity of the addressor on the envelope before carefully opening it.
"Something just isn't right," Margery said. "I talked to her in the owlery and…"
"And?" Ginny prompted, wanting to know what was said.
Hermione unfolded the letter and lifted the parchment to inhale the cologne Ginny knew permeated the parchment. A soft dreamy expression crossed Hermione's face.
"And nothing. She's marrying him. She said she liked Lucius, but wouldn't deny having feelings for the Headmaster," Margery explained.
"She still loves Severus Snape," Ginny stated.
"I know," Amanda said, shaking her head as Hermione folded forward and buried her face in her pillow.
Ginny really had conflicting emotions regarding Hermione and Lucius. "I never thought I'd admit this—I'd rather see her with Snape."
"I'd rather she was marrying the greasy git, too," Amanda said, turning away from watching Hermione.
Margery giggled. "The bat of the dungeons," she teased. "You know, he's not so bad now that the war is over—and he's not teaching anymore."
Ginny was still watching Hermione. "Something just isn't right, though." She got up and crossed the room. "So what did he want?" she asked Hermione.
Hermione sat up, giving her a smile that just didn't reach her eyes. "Just to tell me he loved me and can't wait until Christmas hols start."
Ginny shook her head. "No, I mean Severus?"
"Huh?" Hermione asked, momentarily confused. "Oh, he told me about his research project."
"That's it?" Ginny asked, surprised, sitting down on the bed. "You float you here as if stung by a Billywig and all you two did was talk?"
"He kissed me," Hermione admitted, blushing, looking every bit as flustered as when Ron had kissed her the first time.
All Ginny could think was, Now this is the Hermione I know, but she said, "NO!"
"Ginny, what am I going to do?" Hermione asked.
Ginny hoped that her friend would finally come to her senses. "What do you want to do?"
"About Severus," Hermione said, as if not sure whom they were talking about.
"Same question," Ginny said, trying to force Hermione to realize the truth and make her decision.
"I don't know!" Hermione buried her face in her pillow, breathing in the scent of Lucius' cologne. "I'm going to marry Lucius. I love Lucius. I'm going to marry Lucius; I love Lucius," she said over and over as if in a trance.
Ginny looked at her friend, her eyes as large as saucers. She got up, walked to her bed, pulled the box of chocolates and the last bottle of mead Hermione had received out from underneath. There were only four chocolates left and a thick finger's width of the mead in the bottle. She'd tried to identify the potion in them but hadn't been successful. The mead induces fantasies of Lucius making love to her, but she is a virgin. She told she is still a virgin, so… Certain smells can trigger enchantments, enhance their effect, making them stronger or linger longer. Hermione loves Severus. I know she does! Lucius is charming, but I still don't see them as a couple—she's Muggle-born, and he hates Muggles and Muggle-borns. Luna's right. Hermione wouldn't normally have fallen so quickly, but she seems to have done just that. I need to know what's in the mead and what's in these chocolates.
I've got to talk to Snape. A light-headed fogginess clouded her thoughts and Ginny shook her head to make it go away. I have to talk to… Snape. The fogginess grew thicker, and a voice in her mind said, "He can't help you. Don't trust Snape."
Feeling sick, Ginny went to put the items back under her bed, and the feeling went away. She shook her head, standing up looking at the box and bottle. No. Now. I have to talk to Snape. She felt nauseated by the idea. She put them back under Hermione's bed and instantly felt normal again. Damn! What did he do to me?
~oo0oo~
Hermione was avoiding him. Since their kiss in his sitting room, Hermione hadn't come up to see his office nor did she watch him in the Great Hall like she used to. She did still glance up at him, but she would quickly turn her head and often looked embarrassed if their eyes met. The only explanation was that she was chastising herself for her behavior that night.
Hermione looked up again, saw him watching her and lowered her head. Oh yes, that's all it is. He'd spent years reading people, deciphering their body language and expressions. She is feeling guilty for her attraction to me or because she behaved so passionately, so unreserved. This wasn't good but he could use it. Lucius must have said something in a letter. Their engagement is more commonly known now, especially among the Slytherin families.
If she is feeling guilty, then she is one step closer to realizing that she is still in love with me. He knew that she'd have to see him tomorrow evening regarding her Head Girl responsibilities he'd added to her duties, and after the prefect meeting, she'd come up to his office to give her report. Thursday she'd be in the library, revising.
In fact, he knew her schedule well. He would show up on her rounds and walk with her, talking casually about whichever subject she wanted. He'd impart some tidbit, some obscure reference to a book that he had, one not found in the library. There were several he had on Potions and Charms. He would ask her about the book he'd lent her; see if she'd been reading it.
Severus hoped it would be enough. She was going to be leaving the castle at the end of the week for Christmas. If I could awaken her feelings for me just a bit more, get her to realize how she really felt toward me, I'd have a chance to win her back. He would try to plant some doubt about her decision of marrying Lucius or how she truly felt about him.
Because of the incidents around the castle, Severus had ordered that the mail be checked for spells and altered goods over the last several weeks. The Aurors had caught several parcels from Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes in mislabeled packaging, but other than George Weasley's products, nothing foul had been reported. I'll have to keep a closer eye on Hermione to see if anything is amiss, and ask her professors how her schoolwork is lately. I might even have to question Hermione's friends… The only problem was that time was running out.
~oo0oo~
As Severus predicted, Hermione appeared at the door to his office on Wednesday to show him the revised schedule for those prefects staying at the castle over the Christmas hols. After reading her proposed schedule, he asked her about his book, Exsufflicate Explanatives of Contemporary Practices.
Hermione blushed and admitted that with everything going on, her revision for her N.E.W.T.s and essays, she hadn't had time to finish the book. She offered to return it, but Severus waved her off, telling her that he wasn't concerned and that she could return it when she'd finished it.
When he opened his door for her so she could leave, he kissed her sensually, taking pleasure in her mews and the fact that she still didn't push him away. He even let slip in a soft moan that he was falling for her.
On Thursday, he found her in the library, revising for Potions. He paused by her chair, reading the subject matter of her essay until she looked up. He suggested a variant to her hypothesis and suggested a few books he had in his quarters. She'd looked at him apprehensively, before packing her things and following him. He removed his robe and coat, tossing them haphazardly on the robe stand next to the door of his sitting room, and indicated for her to sit. He offered to let her ask him questions regarding her essay thesis as he perused the shelves then sat in the chair which faced hers. She became emboldened the more questions he answered, and they even argued on a few minor points.
He actually enjoyed the discussion and after thoroughly challenging her on her comparative study for her essay, they'd sat for another hour discussing the complications of combining Transfiguration spells with Charms in the use of communication devices. He especially enjoyed her arguments on his theories of the intricacies of utilizing ideograms with Protean Charms versus the usual practice of using simply worded messages, Runes or numeric coding.
Later that night, he encouraged the Fat Lady to visit her friend after the students' curfew. He timed his appearance to run into Hermione in the corridors just as Hermione and Mr. Finch-Fletchley finished their rounds and dismissed the boy, asking to have a word with Hermione. He escorted her to her tower, kissing her tenderly before tapping lightly on the Fat Lady's frame to let her know that her last charge was ready to enter the common room.
Friday at breakfast, Hermione was watching him with curious glances, unlike the watchful stares she usually gave him. He knew his plan was working. That evening, when Hermione arrived after the Prefect meeting, he was seated in his chair by the fire rather than his desk, wearing only a shirt with the first three buttons undone, and trousers, sipping on a light cognac. He summoned a house-elf to bring her a light Ogden's Sour as he listened to her report. He knew that his casual demeanor had surprised her, and he relished in the fact that she seemed at ease in his company after only a few minutes.
When they finished discussing her report, he engaged her in a discussion about Tracing and Replication Charms, knowing that they were subjects she'd be reviewing over Christmas hols. He offered her two books to read up on them, once again walking her to her room because of the late hour. Their kiss outside the scenic background of the Fat Lady's portrait had been leisurely and greatly satisfying. Once again, he tapped on the frame to let the Fat Lady know she was required and waited until the frame was closing behind Hermione, before turning to leave.
He had one more day before Hermione would leave. He planned on calling her to his office with the excuse of lending her an obscure book on the Duplication and Reproduction Transfiguration spells, which were similar in nature to the Replication Charms. He hoped that the evening would be like the last one, and that he'd be able to engage her as before. With this one last night he would have done everything he could do to entice her away from Lucius before she would be gone for the hols. He hoped it was enough.
~oo0oo~
Ginny had packed the last of Hermione's chocolates and bottle of mead in her bag that morning, so that the house-elves wouldn't find them and take them away. It was the last day of school until the train left to take students home for the hols, and she still carried them with her. She sat next to Hermione in the Great Hall, trying to convince her to come stay at the Burrow until her wedding day instead of staying with Lucius, but Hermione was adamant that she wanted to stay at Malfoy Manor. It wasn't lost on Ginny how many sly glances went over her shoulder to the staff table. Ginny turned her head and caught Snape watching them.
He was her answer. Even if I can't trust him, he is the one person who would know what to do. Ginny shook her head, wondering why she thought that she couldn't trust him every time she considered talking to Snape. She didn't used to think that about him.
"Ginny, are you all right? You seem really distracted."
Ginny turned back to Hermione. "Oh, sorry, yes, I am. Er, Quidditch stuff, and I know how much you love talking about that." Since when did I stop trusting Snape? She knew that Headmasters didn't give out detentions like the professors did, but maybe she could attract his attention somehow.
"Are you going to the pitch after lunch?"
"Huh?" Ginny asked, turning to look at Hermione again.
Hermione smiled over the rim of her goblet. "I thought it would be nice to go outside, maybe go see Hagrid. I haven't seen him since the last Hogsmeade weekend."
Hogsmeade weekend! I tried to go talk to Snape that day and didn't. He was standing in the street, and I just hurried right by him! I—was staring at the ground as I hurried past him… Why? Damn it, that's not like me. "Ah, yeah, sure," Ginny replied, half listening to the suggestion. She turned to look at Snape, wanting to talk to him. The same foggy feeling became stronger and she shook her head to dispel it. She noticed that Snape was getting up and leaving. The same distrust washed over her as she watched him exit the door thinking, Now is as good a time as any to talk to him. "I've got to go. Sounds good, after lunch," she said scrambling to her feet, fighting the sickening urge not to follow him.
Ginny raced down the corridor, the revulsion she felt actually getting stronger the longer she held onto the determination to seek Snape out. This is wrong. I can't trust him. He always looked out for Harry, but Harry didn't trust him either. Snape cannot be trusted. I can't trust him… She saw Snape in the corridor just ahead, walking toward the dungeons. He stopped and turned as she skidded to a halt next to him. "I don't trust you," she blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
He looked startled for a moment then crossed his arms and his eyes narrowed, and she just knew that she was going to land herself in detention scrubbing cauldrons all day. "I can't talk to you. You can't be trusted, but I need to." This was not what she wanted to say. It was coming out all wrong and he was looking agitated with her. She cringed, waiting to hear how many house points she'd lost Gryffindor. But if she just kept saying what the little voice was saying inside her head, maybe she could fight it. "Harry never trusted you, and I—I—I don't talk to you."
Snape pulled his wand out, and she recoiled in fear as he waved it over her. This is it—I'm toast.
His eyes narrowed as the wand tip glowed. He took aim at her and she flinched. A cool sensation enveloped her for a second, and when it passed, a foggy feeling lifted from her mind.
"Now tell me what this is all about?" he asked smoothly.
"I think Hermione is being drugged." She started to explain about the mead that Lucius sent Hermione, and he indicated for her to be quiet.
His expression became angry. "Follow me," he said sharply.
Ginny was certain that her Saturday would be spent cleaning something slimy as he led her to the potions lab he still kept in the dungeons.
He threw open the door and ushered her inside, then lit glow orbs. The light illuminated the shelves full of books and creepy things and the glass front potion ingredient cabinets, hardly doing anything to improve her nervousness.
"Start from the beginning and tell me everything," he said rather more kindly than Ginny had expected, although he still looked really angry.
Ginny sighed in relief. She told him about the times she'd seen her drinking the mead and the dreams Hermione had. "I never thought anything was amiss. I mean, she always falls asleep with books on her bed, but the way she touched herself and the moans—it was erotic."
Snape just stood there, his face the blank mask she'd used to see so often before, so she continued, telling him about the chocolates that they all ate that one night, even telling him about the dream she'd had. She pulled the box and the bottle from her bag. "I have some, not much. I tried to break down the ingredients to see what the potion in the chocolates was, anything unusual, but I couldn't do it, and I need your help. I'm sorry if I insulted you, but I was unable to say anything right—well, not what I wanted to…."
"You're insults are forgiven as they were induced by a curse." Severus took the bottle and sniffed. He crinkled his nose in distaste. "Yes, this is modified. Clever." He looked at Ginny and turned to the workbench. "If you care to assist me, set your things over there, next to the bookshelf. Tell me about any other odd behaviors or anything you know to be unusual."
"That's just it; she's not really all that different," she said, watching as Snape set up two caldrons. "The war affected her, and she's changed because of that, of course, but she was so depressed then. Until she started hanging out with you, that is. She seemed to snap out of the depression and started to be more like her old self."
Snape poured the last of the mead into his cauldron as Ginny rattled on, relieved to be telling him this. "Then, all of a sudden you and she… Well, she showed up at the Burrow, asked to sleep over and cried all night, and refused to say anything. I knew something had happened, but every time I tried to get her to open up about it, she cried harder. The thing was she was constantly talking about you over the summer, Severus this and Severus that, and then all of a sudden, right after that night at my house when she cried herself to dehydration, she became wrapped up in a mystery guy. Next thing I knew, she was gone, and I didn't know where. Even Pig and Edwige couldn't find her—my brother's and Harry's owls. Then she shows up on the train platform at the start of term with Lucius Malfoy, and they're all over each other, and I find out she'd been living at his house. It was really weird."
"How long has Miss Granger been drinking this brew?"
"I don't know, months… since this summer. She said it's a special brew Lucius makes for her," Ginny said, watching as Snape added a clear liquid. "The chocolates, he admitted that they have a love potion in them, but I looked them up. Love potions don't make you have realistic dreams where you feel like you've really made—had sex with someone: wet sticky, breathless, sweaty—the sensation down there as if… you get the picture. They were physical, not any of the dreams from love potions I've read about."
"There are a few that do," he said. He waved his hand slowly over the rim uttering the incantation to separate the ingredients.
Ginny stood transfixed as she watched him. He was masterful; that was the only word that sufficed. Vial after vial were filled with various substances. Suddenly, Snape withdrew a small amount of a red substance that looked an awful lot like blood. Snape merely nodded and continued, but when he withdrew a whitish, murky substance he swore. He swept past Ginny and searched his bookshelves. He pulled out a well-worn, thick leather journal and flipped through the pages.
"Of all the low…" he hissed. He cracked open the chocolates, using his want to make the creamy, liquid center drain out into a second cauldron and repeated the process, once again withdrawing ingredient after ingredient, until the same ingredients that were in the mead were placed in vials.
He turned and poured a dark red liquid into a third cauldron. "Blood taken from the left and right head of the Runspoor—why?"
"The planner and the critic, the planner is logical, decisive; the critic is calculating and critical. Together, when used in mind potions, they help create level thinking," Ginny said.
"And what is the difficulty in using them?" Snape asked as he handed her digitalis.
Ginny smiled as if she'd just gained his approval. "The amounts have to be equal, precisely even amounts, or the potion will not balance the mind but imbalance the mental acuity of the patient."
"Good. Now shred those roots—keep them even," he said, measuring out lobalug venom. "I will need you to keep an eye on Hermione. If Lucius is using this, he might try something else."
"What is it, sir?" she asked. "What did he slip her?"
"Rhwyd Cyffoden Elixir," he said. "Its origins are unknown, and its usage is uncommon. It's difficult to brew, because it must be distilled with the making of the liquor, usually a beer of some type, and yet not lose its potency by being diluted in the brewing process. The antidote will make Hermione sick, but she must have it or the elixir will remain in her system until she conceives a child." He continued brewing what to Ginny looked like a poison. "Can I trust that you will watch over her until school resumes?"
"Oh course, sir, but she's getting married to him over the hols," Ginny said alarmed.
"Not if I can help it she won't," he stated firmly as he added the blood and whitish murky substance into the now pale green potion.
T B C ~
~~oooo0oooo~~
Author's Notes:
Rhwyd Cyffoden Elixir was made up of the Welch words I found on this site: . /fun/welsh/LexiconForms
cyffoden [-nod, f.] (n.) concubine, mistress
rhwydo [rhwyd-] (v.) net, ensnare, entangle
Many thanks to my betas, Pookah and MadBrilliant, for helping me clean up my many mistakes. I really appreciate it more than you can possibly know. I'd be ashamed to show my story to anyone without your invaluable help. And to era1960 for being there when I needed to bounce ideas and have a second opinion, thank you for being a friend.
