Disclaimer: Okay then, like I have said one million and one times before. I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters in this story. I am a maggot who is borrowing them all. I haven't a clue how to write properly, we can safely say I suck at it. Suck full stop is going too far however. JK Rowling own everything and I own squat, sue me not... please? Me has no cash... this is true, I am unemployed.

Author's Note: This is an insano short chapter, even shorter than chapter three, however I got to a certain point and it seemed so right to stop at that point. Anyway as normal thank you to all who reviewed last time. I have discovered a passion for this story, it's just fun to write. And it's dumb, I just like writing it. Please don't forget to review once you've read it.

::~::~::~::

There's no fight - we can't fight,

Just spend all your time with me.

You win again,

So in time we do nothing but compete.

('You win again,' by The Beegees.)*

Cursum Perficio

"Your drink Professor," Rosmerta said handing Severus his Brandy, he looked deeply into it remembering his own reflection in the morning whenever he had too much. Well he'd asked for it now, couldn't well leave it - not now, he contemplated before downing his drink and watching the remnants slosh round the bottom of the glass, his whole reality taking a complete turn before returning to normal.

"Well, that certainly had more of a kick than I was expecting," Snape said blinking hard as a bitter taste crept up his throat making him want to let it back out again.

"Can't handle your drink, hey Severus?" Lucius said coolly throwing a sly look to Rosmerta whom started to get the idea that Lucius was up to something.

"There's something not quite right here;" Severus stared at the world as he knew as it took another three hundred and sixty-degree turn for the worse. His insides began to feel tight and everything began to fade but then return causing his eyes to roll back into his head and back again as if he wasn't sure whether he was conscious or not, Rosmerta's face swam in and out of view. He felt like he'd fallen, as if one side of his bones had gone on vacation, as he began to slip in and out of consciousness he was able to see Lucius slip a small vile back into the pockets of his robes... all he could do was think. He couldn't speak but he wanted to say nothing more than - you slimy bastard.

"Professor?!" Rosmerta whispered trying not to draw attention from the rest of the bar as Severus appeared to go unconscious and slide under the table. "Lucius! Do something!" She said looking to the stony wizard who merely took a swig of his own drink and lit a cigar.

"He'll be all right," Lucius breathed after exhaling a mouthful of tobacco smoke in Snape's general direction, causing the semi conscious man to convulse. Rosmerta got onto her knees, and managed to get under the table next to Snape, who was looking at Lucius' pockets, every time he came round.

"Severus!" She whispered, trying to wake him. "Severus - wake up!"

Momentarily Snape, was able to look at Rosmerta, then to Lucius' robe pocket, before going cross-eyed, and knocking his head on the floor as his neck gave up and he was paralysed looking at the under side of the table.

In his state he was able to contemplate what the world was really like, had Muggles, really been stupid enough to believe that the world had been flat? And if it had been flat, was the underside covered in unspeakable slime like this table? He could appreciate the fact that the stuff that had been there was probably holding the table together at this time, but when the grime, wasn't the only thing keeping the table standing - why hadn't it been cleaned off? He thought this was an acceptable question, Rosmerta should have tried to clean it, or hired a cleaner... had the world gone mad? Or was he being anally retentive because he was stuck looking at it? Good question...

::~::~::~::

Rosmerta looked from Snape's face, to where he had been looking - Lucius' pocket? Snape hadn't been fantasising about what Lucius, kept in his pockets had he? No - Severus is too - there's just something not right with that conclusion. She looked in the general direction of Lucius' pockets again. Why would Snape, have looked form her to Lucius' pocket? She thought about this... Snape had never over reacted to a drink before, especially not something as weak as a Brandy. Perhaps Lucius had slipped some kind of poison into his drink... she could see had the fine material hung the shape of a small vile, in the pockets of his robes. She had to find out what it was. She couldn't have someone die in her pub - it would be bad for business.

She went to reach out to Lucius' side pocket when Snape, made a funny gurgling sound. She turned a looked at him, as Lucius' hand slid back to the side that the vile was in, and smoothed his hand over it just to check that it was still there, she turned back and her heart leapt into her chest. If she had tried to get to the bottle when she had Lucius would have assumed there was something slightly more to the meaning of the word 'service' in, The Three Broomsticks. She was kind of thankful to Snape who chose that moment to be conscious - even if it was only to gurgle at her.

She looked at Lucius' pocket again, she had to find out what had been in that bottle. She sidled over to where he was to get better access, and quickly slipped her hand into his pocket, got hold of something and pulled as quickly as she could without trying to draw attention to what she was doing. Got it, she didn't want to think about what might have happened had she pulled the hmm... wrong wand.

She looked at it, well that was all she needed, non-descript. Great! Thinking about her potions lessons back at school, almost every liquid had its own scent. It was a beautiful magic... more science than anything.

She even remembered her introductory lesson; Potions is not like any other lesson you shall have at Hogwarts. Unlike your other subjects a simple flick of the wrist, will not make a Potion do what you want - it is an exact art. There is always a right answer, similarly there is also a cacophony of wrong ones to match it. You need precision and skill... to be careful and to know what you are doing. Guesswork, in this subject can kill you. I can teach you how to create emotion through mixing fluids, it's a little like painting. Mix the wrong colours and the Mona Lisa's face is green. Understand?

Her old Professor in Potions was so, abrupt, yet chillingly soothing on the voice, no one feared him, but they wouldn't wish to cross him... Rosmerta, even remembered having a childish crush on him at one point. Not that this slight bit of enlightenment bore any relevance to Severus Snape. He was snappy, rude, snide, cunning, conniving... relentless - stop it!

Well he did have an odd soothing nature in his tone, but a contradictory personality. She didn't think he was that attractive - but deep within herself, she knew, she appeared to be changing her mind.

::~::~::~::

Severus looked up from the floor whenever he felt he could. He looked from the table to Rosmerta who had her eyes closed, crouched taking in the scent from the fluid within the vile. It had been a while since she had done potions, but she now owned a Pub - she was a Potions Mistress in her own right he guessed, not that he liked the idea of leaving his consciousness in the hands of an amateur - but what choice did he have.

Oh for Merlin's sake - move me from under this god forsaken table, he was almost begging, how many times can you count the sticky sweets and grimy crap that accumulates under a table? Okay so the table was quite big but... just move me... please? Somebody?

::~::~::~::

Rosmerta looked from the bottle to Severus then got out from under the table.

"You're right Lucius," she whispered. "Nothing wrong with him... if you'll excuse me just a second." She then got from the floor and headed to the bar.

"You're coming back I trust."

She turned her head over her shoulder and smiled, not that she wanted to, what kind of a man sits and smokes a cigar after having poisoned one of his 'friends?' "Of course," she muttered.

Now for the antidote, she recognised the Potion, it was just to keep someone unconscious for a short amount of time, a little like chloroform. She had some of the antidote about, usually men use it on their friends to keep them out of the way while they try and 'pull' in a way, a method of keeping the competition out of the way. So that was what they were up to. Well, she was going to show them... no one messes with the Land lady of The Three Broomsticks.

If you are a king up there on your throne,

Would you be wise enough to let me go?

For this Queen you think you own,

Wants to be a hunter again.

I want to see the world all over again.

To take a chance on life again,

So let me go.

('Hunter,' by Dido.)

*Yeah, I thought that was weird too.

Author's Note:  New chapter finally.  It took so long but I haven't got the net anymore so my updates will be very sporadic and stuff.  WAA!  I rely as usual on Green Pig's good will.  I think it's wearing thin… ::Sobs::   Anyway I better go now… as normal I wish to thank all my reviewers and beg you all to leave more and more because I love reviews you see.  Anyway, better go now!

Thanks to: Sarah Black, Lelio, Unicorn Lady, bluemeanies, Rosmerta, Morgana Snape, Green Pig, Rose Flame, Airelle Vilka, and SchizoAuthoress.  You're all very cool!  YIPPEE!

I.C. Fire.

Stressed! .