Chapter Fourteen: A Night of Pain and Death

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter anything. I don't own Dragon
Lance anything. I do however own the Cure for being a Werewolf potion,
and possibly several other things, too.

"Remus." "Yes, love?" "You're getting in the way. again." "Oh. sorry." "Just go sit by the window." The werewolf sighed and did as he was told, but he didn't stay still long. "Remus." He perked up. Perhaps he could help now. "Stop fidgeting. You're making me nervous." "I am sorry, Severus." Remus sighed again and picked up a book. It was one of Talon's. That girl leaves her things everywhere. He mused as he opened the thick volume. The potion Severus was brewing was extremely complex, much harder than the Wolf's Bane potion he made once a mouth, but if this worked. If this works, my love will be free from being a werewolf. Severus smiled at the thought. He knew how much Remus hated the accursed monthly transformations. But will this change his personality? Will he still love me after he takes this? Will he still be the man I love? These and other such questions plagued the potion's teacher while he carefully measured out the ingredients. One false measurement, even by a grain of leave in some cases, would turn this cure into a fatal poison. Snape hadn't told Remus about that fact. He felt it was his responsibility to brew this correctly and not worry his lover over duly about it. He is, after all, worried enough about whether or not this will even work. I personally have my doubts about this Majere's intentions, but I can't just not make it. I must know if this works for myself. If it does, how many will be spared what my love was tormented with? Severus sighed. The work was tedious, the measurements were precise, and he was getting a bit tired off all this. Finally, he added the last of the ingredients. He had gotten all the measurements and timings perfect. A thick, rich smelling purple liquid simmered in the large cauldron. "Alright Remus, we have to let this simmer over mage fire for twenty-four minutes exactly." "That long?" "Yes, that long. I am sorry, but trying to rush this might turn it lethal. We must follow the instructions exactly." The werewolf sighed. "I know. I know. I'm just so excited, you know. I might be free of this curse before the next full moon. You don't know how much I would like to look up at the beauty of the full moon without that wolfish longing and human dread, without the painful transformations." "I know, but I must warn you of my thoughts on this potion. It might, in itself, be more painful than your transformations. It takes that part of you away, and you have been a werewolf for a very, very long time, Remus. This will probably hurt your body a lot." Remus nodded. "I understand." All too soon, for Severus at least, the twenty-four minutes had passed and the potions was ready. Severus checked the instructions again. "Alright, you need to drink one full standard sized goblet, a half liter by our measurements, in one minute. After that." He scanned further. "That's it. Just drink the goblet in less than a minute, Remus. Are you sure you want to do this?" The werewolf nodded. "I'm ready." Snape poured the potion and handed his lover the goblet; then he got out one of Talon's watches. "Ready?" Remus took a deep breath, sighed, and nodded. The thing smelt almost as badly as the Wolf's Bane potion. "Go." Remus threw his head back and chugged. It tasted absolutely nasty, but he kept chugging. Finally, he slammed down the empty cup. "Done!" "Fifty seconds, perfect Remus." As Severus said this, Lupin fell to the stone floor, screaming. "What is it?" asked Severus. Lupin clutched at his stomach in agony as his lover ran to his side. A hair-raising shriek escaped Remus' being. It seemed to come from the depths of his very soul. His body shook, shivered, convulsed, and sweated. All Severus could do was stand by and watch as Lupin howled and thrashed about the floor. Hair sprouted from his hands and face as Snape watched the transformation from man to wolf before him. The wolf lay at his feet howling only a few breathless moments, in which Severus wondered if he would be attacked by it, when suddenly, Remus lie at his feet again. Snape watched in terror as his lover shifted from one form to the other, both writhing in pain, in the blink of an eye. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. Remus, in his human form, lay panting much like the wolf he had just been. "Remus?" Came Severus' quivering voice. Remus barely moved except to gulp in deep draughts of air. Severus knelt beside his lover and gathered him to his chest, stroking the damp hair. "You always know how to make me feel better, Severus." The Potions teacher smiled to himself and pulled Remus closer. Raistlin walked into his bedroom and sank exhaustedly into a chair. A large sack stood near the door. Raistlin glanced at the sack with a sneer. It had been so easy to prove himself to this Dark Lord. Kill a few innocents and I'm in. He thought, as he looked at his hands. They were no longer gold and glittering, but were a crimson red from the blood still staining them. Raistlin picked up the silver bell and rang it, letting blood stain the silver handle as he set it back down. The house elf skidded to a quick halt at the sight of the already terrifying mage's bloody hands. "Go and fetch me Dumbledore, Krista, Sirrius, Moody, Lupin, and Snape. Immediately." He snarled at the poor creature, which was rooted to the spot. The house elf bolted from the room as if it were on fire. Soon Dumbledore and the others arrived. Raistlin was leaning back in the comfy chair with his eyes closed. They couldn't see his hands. "Professor Majere." began Dumbledore. "Raistlin!" Krista ran to him as soon as Dumbledore had confirmed, for her, it was her love. His gold eyes flew open and he was on his feet, holding out a blood stained hand to halt her. Surely enough, she skidded to a halt, not much unlike the house elf had, and stared in horror at his hands. "I have just come from initiation." He whispered, and pointed to the sack. "In there is the remains of the muddle family I had to kill to get in with your Dark Lord, Voldemort." His voice dripped with disdain and was laced with the blood covering his hands. "I hope you're happy, Dumbledore. I did as you wanted, and even brought the remains so you could bury them, if you so wish." His face was hard s he looked at those gathered. Then he turned and went into the bathroom to wash his hands. "Monster." Moody muttered, looking in the sack at the bodies. Severus scowled angrily at the Auror. "As if you know what it is like." He muttered. "As if you can even begin to fathom what we endure at the Dark Lord's hands so you can have some information about his moves. As if you know the pain we suffer daily from the blood oath and burnt mark in our arm." He spat venomously as Raistlin returned, gold hands sparkling. "He doesn't know and can never find out, Severus." He muttered tiredly. Shrugging off his outer robes, the mage asked. "How did the potion go? I see the Remus is still alive, but do you know if it worked or not? I have to admit. I have never tried to brew it, but it looks immensely complex." Snape shuddered, feeling his hot anger and hatred flake off of him like dead skin. "It went as well as one could hope such a potion to ever go." "Meaning?" "It caused immense amounts of pain to him." "Well that is to be expected." Severus nodded as the young mage collapsed on the bed. As his head hit the pillow, a coughing fit racked his body. Krista instinctively fetched water to boil and mixed his soothing tea. The others watched in silence as he drank it and fell asleep instantly. Krista curled up beside him as the others took the sack, and it desecrated contents, to be buried. "Yes, he will be wonderful for us." Voldemort whispered to the death eater. "It is good he came to us, isn't it?" "Indeed, my lord, it is." Came the reply from the depths of the black hood with its gold hair falling down the chest. "Make sure your son, young Draco, watches his Defense against Dark Arts teacher very closely now. We mustn't have anymore turn-coats amid Dumbledore's teaching ranks." Lucius nodded. "Poor Severus. He was such an imaginative killer, and so good with potions making. No one's the better." Reminisced the snake-faced Dark Lord. Lucius sneered in the darkness of his hood, assured his lord could not see. That potions teacher is an idiot to have turned from the Dark Lord. He must know we will come for him one day. When that day is nigh, no one, not even his precious Headmaster Dumbledore, will be able to save him from our wrath. "Lucius," Voldemort interrupted his thoughts. "Yes, milord?" Lucius bowed slightly. "Attend me, my dear Lucius. We must soon prepare this potion of youthfulness to restore my body somewhat. Truly, in the brewing of this potion will Severus' services be most sorely missed." Lucius again sneered in the safety of his hood as he helped his lord to his feet. Together, with slow, shuffling steps, they made their way to the deepest, darkest, most secret dungeons of the Malfoy keep, where many Deatheaters were gathered for the potion brewing. "My children of death." Voldemort hissed from the depths of his hood, much like his giant boa constrictor. Every hooded figure present turned to bow in homage to their lord most high. As soon as this formality was over with, one figure continued with the precise and fatiguing measurements and timings of the potion brewing. Voldemort's red eyes focused on the lone figure at work. "Which brother here is it that is making this potion alone?" He whispered venom and anger in his voice. He had told them all to make it because of the complex nature of the potion. The nearest Death eater, excluding Lucius, spoke up after a brief pause. "We're sorry, milord, but he would let no other help him." He gulped. "With fangs like his, one would not try to force unwanted aid. or distraction." The Death eater was a young one with fear in his voice. Voldemort smiled grimly to himself within the hood, a terrifying thing to behold, if any had been able to see it. "Blacktooth," He whispered. The lone, working figured didn't say anything in reply, but quickly nodded it head as it measured out drops of black root infusion for the potion. "You know what you're doing, Blacktooth?" Voldemort raised a non-existent eyebrow. "Yes, m'lord." The squirrel chattered, dumping the black root infusion in the huge cauldron. "How?" asked Lucius with an airs of rich arrogance. "My maker made sure I was the best suited for any task she might have needed me to perform." Starbuck Blacktooth muttered as he measured out the freshly diced alligator heart. "Very good," whispered Voldemort. "Very good." Perhaps that lovely potion teacher, Severus, will not be as sorely missed as I first conceived.