By: PepperjackCandy
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: You recognize it? It's J.K. Rowling's. All I own is Alex Farrell.
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After supper, Alex went back to her apartments to work on her lesson plans for the upcoming term, and Snape went back down to his office to begin work on the sleeping draught.
He picked the book up from where he'd left it and carried it into the classroom next door. He opened the book, which was old enough that it held itself open, and began to search for the ingredients for the potion.
It was then that his eyes fell on the writing on the paper he'd used as a bookmark:
We didn't get you yesterday. But we will.
The flask he was holding slipped from his grasp as those eight words, written in a red as vibrant as fresh blood, slowly faded from the page. He was brought back into the moment by the sound of shattering glass.
I'll get that tomorrow. He thought, crunching broken glass underfoot. For tonight, I *need* that draught.
He continued working on the potion, alternately wishing the note was still there so that he could take it to Dumbledore and Alex and get their input, and infinitely glad that the threatening words had disappeared.
While the mixture simmered, Snape was seized with a sudden wild hope that perhaps the parchment was blank when he used it as a bookmark, and that there was some kind of hex on the book that would write threats on any piece of parchment placed between the leaves.
Once the potion had finished simmering, he needed to let it cool to room temperature. He walked back to his office and got a blank sheet of parchment, which he placed between the leaves of the closed book.
And then he waited.
Finally, the potion was cool enough to drink, so he carried it, the piece of parchment that the note had been written on, and the book, back to his apartments. He mumbled the password and carried it all to his bedroom, setting it on the floor as he changed into his nightshirt and cleaned his teeth.
Then he opened the book again, but to his disappointment the sheet of parchment was still blank. Which means that the note was authentic, and that someone put a charm on it to erase it once I'd read it. Whoever's trying to kill me is going to try again.
After thoughts like that, he definitely needed a sleeping draught. Well, let's see if it works as promised. He thought as he picked up the beaker and threw it back in one gulp.
The last thing he remembered hearing for a long time was the clink of the beaker hitting the floor as the world rapidly faded to black.
When Alex woke up, the dawn had turned the sky a spectrum of pastel shades from pink to periwinkle. She rubbed her eyes and realized that she had books and parchment all over her lap. A quill lay on top of everything, a splotch of ink under the tip. I closed my eyes for a moment and fell asleep here on the sofa, she thought as she yawned and stretched, working the stiffness out of her back. At least I didn't have insomnia again last night.
She rolled up the length of blank parchment and set it aside, then began to sort through her notes and plans. Her completed lesson plans, she put into one stack, the notes she'd made for other lessons in another. Finally, she closed the books and set the ink-stained sheet of parchment on the floor to dry. Going to have to rewrite that one, I'm afraid, she thought as she surveyed the damage.
She headed for the shower. After her shower, she put on a green robe and went down to breakfast.
When she arrived in the Great Hall, a few faculty members were milling around, though hardly the number who had been there the previous morning. After seeing that Snape wasn't there, she walked over to Sprout. "Is this seat taken?" She asked, indicating the seat to Sprout's right.
"No." Sprout said, and as Alex sat down, she continued speaking. "I suppose you'd like to hear what I've found out so far about the ewer-plant?"
"Good morning to you, too." Alex responded grinning. "And, yes, I'd love an update on the ewer-plant."
Sprout, all business, said, "As Professor Snape may have told you, I have eliminated any possible natural cause of the rupture, so I've started looking at possible means of tampering with the plant. I cannot find any evidence of the plant having been cut or scored or anything physically, so today I'm going to start looking at possible hexes that could have been used to cut the plant."
Alex nodded as her food, an assortment of breads and fresh fruit, appeared on her plate. "And if you can determine which hex was used, will you be able to trace it to the caster?"
"Not directly," Sprout admitted. "We may be able to determine some of the characteristics of the wand used, but since wands can be stolen, even if we could determine which wand, specifically, was used, it still wouldn't be proof of that person's guilt. Especially since we have no evidence that any real harm was intended. I guess we're just going to have to wait and see if anything else comes up."
Alex continued talking to Sprout, her eyes flicking to the door every time someone new walked into the room, but Snape never showed up.
After breakfast, Alex remembered that he'd nearly missed dinner the previous night, so, thinking that he might have gotten wrapped up in his work again, she went down to his office. He didn't answer his office door, and she saw no light coming out from under the door.
Then she noticed the classroom door was open. She stuck her head in, and saw a broken flask on the floor and the remains of his potion-making the night before. She didn't touch anything, but instead, walked farther down the hallway in search of his apartments.
She saw a portrait of a rather haughty-looking woman halfway down the corridor on the right-hand side. "Good morning," she said to it.
"Is it?" The portrait responded in a bored tone. "I hardly notice anymore."
"If I may ask, do you guard the entrance to Severus Snape's apartments?"
The portrait's face suddenly grew suspicious. "Why do you want to know?"
"Because he's missing breakfast, and I wanted to make sure he was all right."
"Oh," the portrait responded, "he misses breakfast all the time. He'll get something to eat if he needs it later."
"Well, if you're sure . . ."
"I am. You don't need to worry your little head about him at all."
Alex bristled at the condescending tone, but kept her own tone neutral. "All right, then. I guess I'll just see him at lunch."
Alex went back to work then. All she still needed to do for the first years' lesson plans, for the first two weeks of the term, at least, was one more lesson plan, and then she started on the second years' lesson plans. This was somewhat more difficult, since she had to refer back to Mad-Eye Moody's notes to see what he'd covered the previous year, and Mad-Eye Moody's notes were interrupted by periodic observations of his magical eye. They read, for example, Elementary spell-blocking. Tell Snape that Blake cheated on Potions exam.
After the first few lesson plans, Alex was developing a headache. If this is what I'm going to have to do for the second years, what will I do with the third years, when I have to go through Moody's *and* Lee's notes for the year?
A few minutes before lunch, she decided to take a study break and see what, if anything, Sprout had discovered about the ewer-plant.
First she headed for Sprout's office, but the Herbology teacher wasn't there. So she went down to the dungeons, to see if Snape had heard anything. "Professor Snape?" She called out as she knocked at his office door. But there was no answer.
The door to the classroom was still open, so she went inside again to find the same disarray she'd found that morning. "Something's not right," she whispered, "Snape just wouldn't leave things like this."
She went back up to the main hallway, where she literally ran into Hagrid. "Sorry, Professor Farrell," the half-giant rumbled.
"No. I'm sorry. I should have been watching where I was going. Have you seen Professor Snape this morning?"
Hagrid shook his head. "No, I haven't."
Worry flashed through Alex's mind, but she didn't know if it was time to panic just yet. "What about Professor Sprout? Do you know what she's discovered about the ewer-plant?"
The worry turned into fear as Hagrid shook his head. "I know she was pretty sure it was intentional, but . . . . Hey! Where are you going?"
"Sorry, Hagrid." She called back. "I've got to see Professor Dumbledore."
After she'd left Hagrid she headed immediately for the gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office. "Snickers. Three Musketeers. Butterfingers. Oh, for crying out loud. Please let me in! I've got to see Professor Dumbledore. Cockroach clusters. Spring surprise. Crunchy damned frog!" She babbled.
The gargoyle moved aside and Dumbledore emerged from behind it. He placed his hands on Alex's shoulders. "Professor Farrell." He said calmly. "What's the matter?"
Alex took a deep breath to calm herself. "It's Professor Snape. I can't find him anywhere. He wasn't at breakfast. He's not in his office. The same mess has been in his classroom since before breakfast. And there's that damned portrait outside his apartments. With someone possibly after him, there's a distinct possibility that he's been hurt, possibly even killed."
"All right." Dumbledore projected his calmest exterior. "We'll go down to his apartments and see if he's there. All right?"
Alex nodded and the pair headed for the stairs to the dungeons.
Soon they were standing in front of the portrait who'd been so insulting to Alex earlier. "Please let us in." Dumbledore addressed her.
The portrait simply looked Dumbledore up and down slowly, not even deigning to answer.
"Let us in," Dumbledore threatened calmly, "or you'll be guarding the hallway outside the owlery before suppertime."
With a soft click, the portrait swung open, allowing Dumbledore and Alex admittance into Snape's apartments.
Alex didn't notice the comfortable chair, or the Oriental rug, or even the stack of books on the floor. With a speed born of training and experience in searching for specific objects, she looked for Snape's black hair and sallow skin. Not finding it, she focused her attention on the next room, and there, in the bed, pale as death against the black sheets, was Snape.
Dumbledore was by Snape's side before Alex could make her legs move. He took Snape's hand in his, feeling for a pulse. "He's still alive." He told her. "But I can't tell any more than that. Go to the hospital wing and get Poppy Pomfrey."
No sooner had the words left Dumbledore's mouth than Alex was through the portrait hole and headed for the stairs.