Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to the goddess, JKR or it could belong to Charlotte Bronte or possibly Jane Austen. Only the convoluted plot belongs to me.
Chapter 8: Of Kisses and Potions
Remus Lupin sat in Dumbledore's office and looked at the Sorting Hat thoughtfully. He had never thought that a person like himself could ever have been put into any other house except Slytherin. In his opinion, being a werewolf meant that one was inherently evil and that could only mean Slytherin. Odd how he had been sorted into Gryffindor. Very odd. The funny thing was that, not only was he placed in another house that he had not expected, but he discovered that being a Slytherin did not mean a person was predisposed to becoming a Death Eater.
Just as being a Gryffindor did not always validate a person's bravery…Peter had been a prime example of how wrong his assumptions were.
Sighing, he went to sit down on one of the many chairs in the office. He was so very tired…and the full moon was only days away…
"Remus? What are you doing here?" Sirius Black stepped into the office, holding Hermione's copy of 'Jane Eyre'.
"Why do you have that?" Remus asked.
"We were trying a spell…didn't work. Harry is frantic with worry," Sirius put the book down on Dumbledore's desk and took a seat beside Remus. "It's a bad business, Moony. A bad business."
"Do you think we will ever get them back, Padfoot?" Remus asked, looking over at the book with worry etched on his face.
Sirius sighed deeply. "I don't know…as long as the book is safe, there is always hope."
"Are you all right, Padfoot? You haven't been yourself lately," Remus stood up and walked towards a small table upon which were a jug of iced pumpkin juice and four glasses. Filling two of them, he offered one to Sirius, who accepted with a barely audible thank you.
The silence was not something Remus was used to where Sirius was concerned.
"I've been angry for too long…I don't know how to let it go," Sirius sighed, turning the glass in his hands.
"What do you mean?"
"Even Snape has somehow managed to get on with his life…even he has a purpose with trying to find something that will cure you…and he has as much reason to blast half the people in the Ministry of Magic. I…I seem mired in this pit of resentment. I feel…trapped."
Remus looked at Sirius with concern. "What is troubling you? You know you could always talk to me, Padfoot."
"I know that, Moony," Sirius smiled for a moment. "I thought that when Lucius was…when that…thing…well, I just thought that it would be the end of it. Being free…finally declared innocent…teaching here…maybe it wasn't an exciting subject…"
"History of Magic is rarely exciting although I think the students prefer you to Binns," Remus smirked.
"I don't know how I should be dealing with it…I wanted this for so long and now that it is here…this life without worrying about Dementors…," Sirius sighed, taking a sip of the pumpkin juice.
"Was it awful…with Lucius? I have never witnessed…I mean, they asked me…I…I couldn't," Remus ran a shaking hand through his hair, shuddering in revulsion. "I've come close enough to them…living nightmares."
Sirius thought for a moment before answering. "It was worse than that, Moony. It was far worse."
***************Flashback*************
It seemed odd that the room was brightly lit. Somehow, Sirius had always associated this type of sentencing with darkness…it was more appropriate in a macabre sort of way. This room seemed almost cheerful…was it a spell to calm the person whose very life would be momentarily destroyed?
And he could not forget how it almost happened to him.
Looking over at Severus, whose gaze was fixed on some point outside the window, Sirius glared momentarily at the man who had almost cost him his soul.
"But you are not so innocent yourself, Black," Sirius thought to himself, pulling at a stray thread on the sleeve of his robes. "You almost killed him with that stupid prank of yours. Perhaps we are even after all."
Harry stood rigidly, arms crossed over his chest. His expression was tense and Sirius could see anger smouldering in the depths of his green eyes.
Sighing with impatience, Sirius stood up and walked over to Harry.
"How is she doing?" He asked.
"Severus has been looking after her," Harry replied, clearly not focusing on the conversation. "I have been in to see her but…she…she hasn't woken up yet. I will go today…after this. Would you like to come as well?"
Sirius looked at Severus. He noticed that the Potions Master's fists were clenching his wand tightly and that he seemed unusually anxious.
"Why did he take on the task of healing her? Is it pointless? Some of the others seem to think it would be best if she were simply allowed to…to go," Sirius thought to himself, angry with those others for giving up on Hermione. She deserved a chance and he respected the glowering man for doing what the others would not.
"Snape…will it…I mean, I would like to see her," Sirius asked.
Severus turned to him. "Of course…today would be a good day for that," he whispered, turning back to the window.
In utter confusion, Sirius turned to Harry for some explanation. Harry simply looked at Severus with something bordering on compassion, which, in turn, confounded Sirius even more. He felt that he was missing something.
"I don't understand," he thought to himself, returning to his seat.
There was a sudden chill in the air as Lucius Malfoy, two Aurors, Albus Dumbledore, Arthur Weasley and a Dementor walked into the room. Sirius instinctively backed away from the horrid vision in front of him.
A hand on his arm startled him. With a start, he realized it was Severus.
"You are innocent, Black," he said quietly.
Sirius felt as if he could handle no further surprises that day. He nodded mutely and turned to witness the proceedings.
"Lucius Malfoy," Arthur began reading from a parchment. "You stand here accused of heinous crimes against both the wizarding and Muggle worlds. You are charged with using each of the Unforgivable Curses many times. You are charged with consorting with Death Eaters. You are charged with the murder of my son, Ronald Weasley, Auror 1st Class. You are charged with the brutal kidnapping and torture of Hermione Granger, Auror 1st Class. How do you plead?"
Lucius looked calm and relaxed. Sirius wanted to strangle him.
"You say I am guilty, Arthur. Who am I to argue? I only wish the fun hadn't stopped so soon," the silver-haired man drawled arrogantly. A vein in Arthur's forehead began to throb angrily.
Dumbledore looked at Lucius with disappointment, shaking his head sadly. Harry was a study in rage. The Dementor…well, it looked rather hungry in Sirius' opinion.
"The petitioners may approach the accused," Arthur called in a tight voice, the parchment practically disintegrating in his ever-tightening grip.
Harry walked over to Lucius and looked at him for several moments before speaking.
"My only regret is that your son isn't here to join you," Harry whispered before turning and sitting down beside Sirius. Lucius simply smiled.
Severus stood up but did not approach the prisoner. He seemed to be debating what to say.
"At a loss for words, Severus? You always were better holed up in your precious laboratory. You're a pathetic excuse for a wizard…a disgrace to your family…to us all."
Severus, maintaining his composure, simply nodded. "Coming from one such as yourself, Lucius, that is quite the compliment."
Lucius raised his eyebrows at that. "It does not matter, Severus. All your pretty words and potions will not save her. I have made certain of that…and it was very enjoyable…oh yes…very, very enjoyable. I was first, Severus! Do you hear that? I was first! And you know what they say…you always remember the first!"
Harry jumped up with his wand out. Arthur and Dumbledore screamed for order. Sirius held Harry back and noticed that Severus was walking closer to Lucius, slowly and deliberately. Leaning over, he whispered something in the condemned man's ears. Lucius' expression fell and he began to struggle against the Aurors who were holding his arms.
"No!" He shouted as Severus stepped back and the Dementor approached. "No!"
He began screaming as the Dementor lowered its hood and, taking his chin in its rotting hand, tilted his head upwards.
As the awful rattle of thickened suction began, Sirius turned his head away…unable to witness the final moments of Lucius Malfoy…
But he heard the screaming as the man's soul was consumed…
Sometime later, as they were walking towards the hospital infirmary, Harry turned to Severus.
"What did you whisper to him?" He asked shakily, still recovering from the experience. They had been the first words spoken since they left the sentencing chamber.
Severus stopped for a moment outside the infirmary door.
"It is best if I show you," he said, his expression brightening. He opened the door and there, sitting up in her bed, reading a book…
"Hermione!"
**************End of Flashback**************
"He did not give up on her," Sirius suddenly commented.
"I beg your pardon, Padfoot?" Remus looked at his friend, rather puzzled at the sudden outburst.
"Why did it matter so much to him? Everyone else had given up…said it was hopeless for Hermione to ever recover," Sirius drained his glass and turned to his friend.
"He's always been very stubborn," Remus commented wryly, still uncertain as to his friend's purpose.
"I…I think it's something else…something Harry knows too," Sirius looked at his empty glass, running a finger along the edge.
Remus raised his eyebrows in an unasked question but Sirius was paying far too much attention to his empty glass to reply.
"Is it possible?" Sirius wondered.
*************At the Apothecary's Shop*************
Severus felt that the journey to the shop had taken far too long and dearly wished for a faster mode of transportation. Getting off his horse quickly, he tied it to a nearby post and hurried into the little store that he had found thanks to a quick locating spell.
Inside, he immediately felt some sense of having come to a place where he belonged. The very smell of the place was similar to that which permeated his stores room. He glanced at the various items on display. Fine powders in burlap sacks. Various organic ingredients, such as eyes and kidneys, floating in neutral compounds; which would not adversely impact on their potency. Dried griffin feet and manticore claws were hanging from the rafters. Great sacks of beetle eyes and spider jaws were in one corner.
And everywhere, there were people, dressed in the same dress as the time period, it seemed. He could not tell if they were magical or not…there was so much magic in the air that it was difficult to tell.
"Excuse me, sir," a voice made Severus turn and he found himself facing a serious looking young man, perhaps late twenties.
"Do I know you, sir?" Severus asked.
"I don't believe we have met. My name is St. John Rivers…I am a missionary, recently returned from the Far East. You are Edward Rochester. Everyone knows who you are," St. John smiled.
Severus did not return the smile. He was in a hurry and there was something about the man that he did not like. From his blue eyes to his fair hair…he reminded him of Gilderoy Lockhart…and those were not happy memories.
"You look a little lost. Can I assist you with something?" St. John asked, a look of concern on his face.
"My…my governess has fallen ill with a high fever and I need to find something to help bring it down," Severus replied, looking over the ingredients.
"Ah…I see. Curious to see you taking such a…personal interest in her welfare. She is most fortunate in her choice of employers," the younger man said in a neutral tone.
Severus felt his temper begin to flare.
"The ingredients for fever-reducing brews and poultices are over there, beside the dried bat wings. I could offer you the assistance of my sisters…they are accomplished healers," St. John continued, oblivious to the storm brewing in the other man's eyes.
"I should be fine…thank you. I have some small talent in brewing medicine…it will suffice," Severus replied curtly…scooping up some coarsely ground beetle legs into a small bag.
"Nonsense…they will be most offended if you refuse. I will return home immediately and they should be at Thornfield by tonight," St. John waved his objections aside.
"Thank you but it is unnecessary." The tone of finality in Severus' voice left no room for argument.
"I see. Well, in that case, I will not trouble you any longer. Good day and…good luck," St. John called out as he walked out of the shop.
Severus, gritting his teeth in indignation, returned to the business at hand of measuring out dragon scales.
"The nerve of some people," he hissed under his breath.
Returning to Thornfield, Severus quickly brought his newly purchased ingredients and equipment into his own chamber and methodically set about brewing a basic fever-reducing potion. The familiar actions and environment calmed him somewhat…allowed him to focus on the task at hand rather than how frightened he really was.
Carefully decanting the amber-coloured liquid into a glass, he quickly cast a spell so that no one would notice the cauldron set up in the corner…or the various ingredients that were strewn around it.
Closing the door, he walked over to Hermione's room and knocked on the door. Mrs. Fairfax came to the door and Severus immediately placed a Memory Charm on her and sent her to her own chambers, content in the belief that she had asked Leah to watch the patient.
After ensuring that the housekeeper was gone, Severus approached Hermione and, holding her up, made her drink the entire glass of the potion he had so carefully brewed. It took some time…she was very weak and found it difficult to swallow. When the glass was empty, he set her back down gently and waited.
Almost immediately, he could see that she stopped trembling…that her breathing became more relaxed and some colour returned to her pale cheeks. He touched her throat and felt relieved that her pulse was no longer racing. She seemed to be sleeping more comfortably...more at peace and less agitated. He complimented himself on the addition of some lavender flowers…they would ensure that she had no further nightmares.
"You will sleep well tonight, Hermione," he whispered, looking down on her with such raw emotion in his expression that she must have felt it for she smiled suddenly in her sleep. He kissed her forehead, barely brushing his lips against the now cool skin. Sighing, he covered her carefully with the knit blanket and left only one candle burning so that she could rest.
He trudged out of the room, exhausted. He had not slept since she had fallen ill.
"She has no need for anyone tonight. Tomorrow, she will feel much better…and we will set out to find a way to return home," he thought wearily as he reached his room and went inside. Collapsing on the bed…he was asleep in an instant.
*************Back in Hermione's room****************
The single candle sputtered for a moment before going out altogether. Whispery beams of moonlight were the only source of light in the room. Hermione slept on…peacefully unaware of two shadows that had not been there before.
"It is well you told me she was here," a female voice whispered. "I had felt something amiss in the air but had not realized what it meant."
"Then you will take us both?" a male voice replied…he sounded fearful.
"Yes…you may have her and do what you will…I have no use for her. No…my interests lie elsewhere," the shadowy woman hissed.
"Thank you."
The bed linens disappeared and Hermione floated towards the shadows, still sleeping.
"You will not be interfering any longer," the woman whispered hatefully to Hermione, not caring that the unconscious woman could not hear the resentment in her voice.
With a puff of smoke, the trio vanished…leaving behind only moonbeams.
A/N: I do not know for certain which houses the Marauders were sorted into although I have heard various theories. I made a few assumptions that may be disproved at a later date.