Author's Note: Alright, now this chapter is going to have mistakes, I'm sure of it. But you were all pelting messages at me telling me to hurry up so I thought I'd sacrifice that last spellcheck and edit so that you can be happy.
And THANKYOU to everyone who sends reviews. I really appreciate it…really I do. It's so nice to log on and see people appreciate what I do. And one little personal note:
Phoenix Flight: yes, Hermione can get through anything, because anyone can get through anything, should they choose to.
And if anyone wants to knows anything, I'm happy to answer. My email address is in one of the earlier chapters, so if there's anything…what Deb eats for breakfast, why I chose the potions ingredients I chose, Please feel free to email me.
Everything, apart from minor additions here and there, belongs to they who must be deeply respected, JK Rowling and George Bernard Shaw. All thanks to them and my computer.
Chapter 12 – Thrice to Thine
It happened almost like summer lightening. Severus and Deborah had been working frantically to prepare the ingredients and had all but three. They hadn't yet had the Death Eaters' children kidnapped and the holidays were almost over. In all seriousness it looked like they weren't going to be ready. They were going crazy for one ingredient which was taking it's time in arriving. But a week before the holidays were over, a letter arrived for Severus. It was black and the letters had been burned out.
Severus,
Our Master has chosen a new date. Those of us who have children studying at Hogwarts managed to convince him that they only need a little more time at Hogwarts to receive the last scraps that the school can offer them before it goes to the dogs. On the 15th of April we will be ready, and so must you be. Master says, however, that as soon as your work is ready he would like you to present it. Be warned, he is very eager.
L.M.
Everyone exhaled and had a stiff drink after that. The fates were with them…a good sign for times to come. But still Severus wondered if perhaps it was a trick, perhaps they were cutting him out of the loop, confusing him into thinking he knew. But it didn't make sense, Voldemort needed the potion to win, without it he was a lesser wizard. Well, there was nothing for it but to trust it. Deb trusted it, so he'd have to do the same.
It would have been hard going for Hermione if Dumbledore had told the whole school what had happened. She realized that later. He'd decided that it was best if no one heard because Draco was as much a spy for Voldemort as Snape was for Dumbledore. No one knew about it. It was a real secret, not the kind that everyone finds out about. All but the teachers, Harry, Ron and Ginny (after some consideration) had been told that Hermione had had a bad and seriously contagious case of the giggly glands, so she was being quarantined for the duration of her illness.
The teachers were all very lenient on her, even though it wasn't necessary. All but Snape and Deb said they'd understand if she wasn't able to hand things in on time, but she never failed to be the first one to hand her work in. She was still the Hermione they knew and loved, but on top of all the time she spent with Deb and Severus, she'd also taken to long walks around the castle or in the corridors.
It wasn't because she was depressed, really. She just liked to have time alone to think about them. She no longer thought of her parents and cried though, even though she expected to. Instead she smiled. She cherished her memories of them, and liked to spend a bit of time every week thinking about them. Deb said as time would pass, she'd do it less and less.
She should still be many stages behind in her process of grieving, but something about being thrown out a window seemed to have booted her along a bit. It was utterly bizarre at the time, but now it was as if Deb had opened a window into her cell of depression and cool fresh air had blasted her into reality. It was difficult to explain how exactly it had done the job, but she very much suspected that Deb had thought about a solution to loss long ago, given her own circumstance. She also felt a bit better for the wear, like she could square her shoulders and march on. It was sort of exhilarating.
And after the turmoil of the holidays, they were back to school. Deb had postponed the performance of the musical to the end of the year, to everyone's great relief. A lot of people had been concerned about the fact that no one knew who Eliza and Professor Higgins were. Neville and Madame Pomfrey (who were playing Colonel Pickering and Mrs Pearce, respectively) were particularly concerned because they hadn't been able to practice their lines properly. Deb promised that by the end of March, she'd reveal all. Hermione had blacked the day out in her calendar.
Deb had also insisted they go back to work on the potion, despite their extension. She was still nervous it wouldn't be ready, and didn't want to take the risk. The first evening after classes, Hermione knocked on the door to Severus' office. The door opened quickly and black robes flapped quickly away. Hermione entered to see Severus already climbing down the ladder in the next room.
"Don't worry," Said Deb, "He doesn't mean to be rude, he's just feeling a little guilty and embarrassed. He'll get over it in about a week."
They climbed the horrendously high staircase and immediately set to work. Before now they'd only been able to prepare to brew the necessary potion, because some of the ingredients were quite obscure and needed to be treated in a particular way before being used. So far they had every herbal ingredient including the twenty globe amaranth flowers soaked in a Rosebay infusion, three American cowslips chewed by a dragon, dried bearded Crepis picked at midnight and, the most difficult, crushed Hemlock and coca leaves. Among the other ingredients they had obtained were a candle made of earwax, feather of an Ibis killed by an arrow, and a bone from a man who didn't know it was gone. Today they'd just received an ethanol made from Monkshood, which had been what they were so worried about. Severus stored it safely beside the others in a special cabinet.
"Right," Severus said, "We have everything now…except one…"
"Yes, the last one…" Deb smiled.
"It…you'll need to give us a lot, Deborah, the base of the potion."
"I know how it works, Severus. And I'll be fine, I've had to do this before, remember?"
"Excuse me," Hermione interjected, "Would somebody like to tell me what you're talking about."
"The last ingredient in the potion…" Severus explained, "Actually it's the first, because it's the base of the potion…"
"We need two litres of melted Himalayan snow from the top of Everest mixed with two litres of blood from a Daniels family member."
Hermione's jaw dropped. Two litres! Two litres of Deborah's blood.
"Wow!" Hermione whispered, "Two litres! That's…that's a lot of blood."
"Yes it is," Deb agreed, "Two sevenths of my stores. Traditionally one doesn't purposely part with more than one litre, but the spell requires it."
"Is there some kind of…replenishing spell you can use?" Hermione asked.
"Severus knows a potion, but it can't be used until after all the blood has been drawn. The Daniels potion knows if the blood has been altered by magic."
"You could die." Hermione whimpered morbidly.
"Nonsense, Hermione," Deb said offhandedly, "I'm not going to die. I'm a witch, remember? I may faint, but not for long. Ten minutes…tops."
"What if there's some complication?" Hermione questioned anxiously, "What if you've got heart failure?"
Deb just giggled. "You're quite funny when you panic unnecessarily. Believe me, if I had heart failure, I'd know. I'm a witch for heaven's sakes! Relax! What you should worry about more is the Himalayan Snow. Hermione and can go and get it while you make the replenishing potion. I arranged to meet the Diablé there, kill two birds with one stone."
"Fair enough." Severus began taking ingredients off the shelves. "It shouldn't me take longer than what you need to get the snow."
"Alright, thanks Severus." Deb said, surprisingly genuinely. "Have you got a broomstick nearby?"
"That cupboard over there has three Firebolts."
"Oooh…that's a bit upmarket isn't it?" Deborah smiled meaningfully.
"A friend who works with the English Quidditch team wanted to get rid of them, so I took them." Severus said simply as he removed a cauldron from another cupboard. "If they're too good for you I could build you a catapult and fling you to the farther side of hell."
"Well," Deb sniffed as she removed two from their place and handed one to Hermione, "If that's all you've got, Hermione and I will lower ourselves to riding them."
"Piss off." He murmured. "The door's over there." He pointed to a corner of the laboratory where double doors made the actually corner, opening out onto the roof. Hermione began to worry. She'd never been any good at flying. What if Deb meant them to fly to Tibet?
Deb led Hermione over, flicked her wrist and the doors creaked open accompanied by the whining of un-oiled metal grinding together. They walked outside and Deb quickly mounted her broom.
"Errr…"
"What's wrong?" Deb asked.
"I'm…not very good at flying." She toed the ground nervously.
"Oh…" Deb shrugged, "Don't worry, we're not flying to Tibet. How silly would that be when I can apparate? No, we're just flying down over the wall outside Hogwarts so we can apparate."
"Errr…"
"You don't think you can do it, then?" Deb vocalized Hermione's thoughts. "Alright, well, do you trust me to fly you down?"
"Err…"
Deb clicked her tongue and put her hand on her hip. "Well, you've got three choices here: you can fly down yourself, you can fly with me or you can walk all the way down there, but I'm not waiting that long, so it's you or me."
Hermione whimpered slightly. She'd never really liked brooms in the first place.
"Alright: you."
"Good. Hop on…and hold on I guess."
Hermione tentatively mounted Deb's broom, grabbed Deb around the waist and held on for dear life.
"Hermione," Deb coughed, "There's no hurling hex on the broom. Can I please breathe?"
Hermione loosened her grip ever so slightly and Deb took off. She was a very good flyer, very smooth and slow, Hermione guessed it was to pander to her own fear.
"You alright there?" Deb asked over the breeze.
"Yes…I'm fine." Hermione called back.
"Good, then you won't mind this."
WHOOSH! They dropped about fifty feet down. Hermione felt her stomach touch her tonsils.
"Fun, isn't it?" Deb yelled as they accelerated to extraordinary speeds."
"Deborah….DEB….WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?!?"
Hermione screamed and gripped Deborah around the stomach even tighter as Deb swung the broom from side to side, up and down, until they were fifty feet from the wall of Hogwarts, hurtling towards it, unable to stop.
"DEB….WATCH OUT!!!!!!!!!!" she shrieked.
Deb accelerated as they approached and, at the last minute, pulled upwards into a loop-the-loop, turned them down to a nose dive and, once again at the last minute pulled out and brought them to a violent stop. Hermione scrambled off as fast as she could and bent over near a tree to catch her breath and ensure she wouldn't throw up. Deb threw the broomstick up into a tree and made it invisible.
"Enjoy that?" She asked placidly as she joined Hermione took deep breaths.
"You're…a barking…lunatic," Hermione whispered.
"All the freaky people make the beauty of the world." Deb smiled. "Wow, I've never seen so many colors on one person's face. Here, have a glass of water."
Deb handed her a goblet of water and Hermione sipped it gingerly.
"You're not afraid of heights, are you?" Deb asked cautiously, "Because now would be a good time to tell me, considering where we're going."
"No, I'm not afraid of heights," Hermione returned the empty glass and straightened up, "I'm only afraid of you."
Deb laughed and clicked her fingers. Two thick, grey brindle fur coats and two pairs of gloves appeared. Hermione thought they looked a bit like the Durmstrang fur. Viktor had given her one much like it, though she'd never needed it before.
"Go on," Deb encouraged, "They don't bite, despite appearances. They've got a warming charm on them."
Hermione took one and put it on as Deb did. Deb offered her hand and Hermione took it, and with a pop and a whoosh they were suddenly at the top of Mount Everest.
Gale force winds were whirling around them furiously and snow was stinging their faces. Deb fought the windstorm as she clumsily removed a cauldron from the coat. Apparently there was more pocket space than appeared to the eye.
"Come on then," Deb yelled, "Help us put it in here."
They began shoveling with their hands, piles of snow. It wasn't long before it was full, but they were then left to wait for the Diablé.
"He shouldn't be long. I've never known him to be late." Deb reassured Hermione, who was beginning to shiver. "Here…let's play rock paper scissors."
"What?"
"You know, the game, where you—"
"I know the game." Hermione snapped.
"Then let's play. Ready?"
Hermione uncrossed her arms and made a fist. "Ready."
"Okay," said Deb, readjusting her stance, "one, two three."
Hermione made scissors, Deb made a rock. Hermione clicked her tongue.
"Again," Deb demanded, "One, two three."
Hermione made scissors again, and Deb made a rock again.
"Again," Deb demanded, and Hermione lost again.
Hermione kept losing, Deb always picking the right choice.
"You're cheating!" Hermione finally accused her of what she was obviously doing.
"No I'm not!" Deb denied, but with a huge grin on her face.
"Yes you are!"
"Well, just a bit."
"How?" Hermione asked, slightly hurt, more fascinated.
"A modified form of legilimency, not the brutal invasion Severus practices, but a very light form that only enters your working memory. Not even enters, but connects with. Like a second receiver listening in on a phone call….sort of…ah, hello, Sphinx!"
A fierce, tough-looking man with black hair and a flappy black cloak had appeared nearby. He nodded as he walked towards them, apparently undisturbed by the ferocious weather. He looked very muscly and extremely dangerous. Like he would've killed them on the spot if they hadn't come with something to offer.
"Are you well?" Deb asked politely.
The man nodded again.
"Good. Well, here's what I need. There are twelve children at Hogwarts whom I need kidnapped and taken to the shrieking shack. I'd prefer it if you didn't have to harm them, I don't mind you putting them to sleep, or anything that they can recover from, but keep them safe. There's twelve kids in all. I've got a list of them… these six are at Hogwarts, these three are at their homes, these two are at Durmstrang and this one's at Beauxbatons. I'd like them all in the shrieking shack on the first of April, no earlier, no later. There'll be a Hogsmeade trip that day, so that won't be a problem. Now listen, you really have to get them there specifically on that date, alright?"
He nodded slowly, maintaining eye contact.
"Good," Deb nodded back, "Now about your pay. I've got a chest here…" She pulled a huge chest out of her coat, about the size of Hermione's trunk. "Now, if you do as I say, this chest will be at the shrieking shack, full of gems, none smaller than walnuts. If not, it will be full of Antimony."
The man inhaled sharply through his nose.
"Yes, this really isn't something you can afford to slip-up on. Now have we got a deal?" She put out her hand. He took a moment, but soon nodded and shook her hand.
"You're a good Diablé, Sphinx. Really tops. See you in April."
He nodded, ran and jumped off the edge of the mountain.
"Ready to go home?" Deb extended her arm again.
When they returned, there was a steaming cauldron and syringes sitting near Severus, who was reading a book.
"You took your time," He said irritably.
"Sphinx was a bit late," Deb put the cauldron of snow on the desk.
"Fine…are you ready?" He asked, shutting his book.
"As I'll ever be." She nodded.
"Then you can lie down over there and roll up your sleeve. Hermione, you can take that potion across to her and put some in an injection."
Severus pointed to a bed he had obviously conjured up. Deb jumped onto it, rolled up her sleeve and Hermione brought the potion over standing rather awkwardly as Severus brought across a number of medical instruments…a butterfly needle, tube, tourniquet, scissors, all held in a little copper cauldron. Severus sat down beside her, and Hermione took the hint and sat down on the other side. She began to fill the syringes with the transparent blue potion. Severus swabbed Deb's arm with a thick white potion Hermione hadn't seen before.
"It's called the purgery potion," Said Deb, "Not formally, but we call it that for short."
Severus wrapped the tourniquet around her arm and waited. Not long after he prepared the needle.
"I'm going to put the needle in now, Deborah," He said quietly.
Hermione watched the needle enter. Deborah hissed and grabbed Hermione's wrist.
"Never liked that part." She smiled feebly.
There was a lot of silence as Severus connected the needle to a tube which led to the copper cauldron on the table nearby. He'd made the table sway slightly to make sure the blood didn't separate. There was still a lot of silence as they waited for the blood to come pulse out.
"You know, I never would have thought I'd end up here," Deb said thoughtfully, "tne years ago I saw myself in some kind of wizard circus, doing crazy things for a living."
"I can see where you might have gotten that idea," Hermione threw in.
"Yeah," Deb said wistfully, "But here I am, you know, a teacher…who would have thouuuurrrggh."
"Bye bye, Deborah," Severus sighed, "And with about another five hundred ml to go, where is your stamina woman?"
"Isn't there anything you can do?" Hermione asked desperately.
"Of course not," Severus said curtly, "If there was I'd be doing it."
"What if she dies?"
"She won't die, Hermione," He replied irately, "She's a witch!"
"But—"
"Hermione, she will not die. You'll only upset yourself this way. You're not about to lose someone else. We can't afford to."
Hermione was silenced. Slightly ashamed of herself, she continued filling the syringes.
"Hermione?" Severus said.
"Yes," Hermione answered, very warily.
"I'm…sorry." It sounded constipated, but genuine.
"For what?" she asked.
"For…you parents. There was nothing I could do."
He looked at her sadly. She smiled back.
"I know."
"Alright," Severus finally said, "I'm taking the needle out…now." He covered the little hole with a swab and tied it down with a small bandage. He walked around to Hermione's side and Hermione leapt out of the way. He began injecting the potion. One syringe, two syringes, three syringes…Hermione eventually had to start refilling them. It took eight syringes for Deborah to wake. When she finally did it was with a huge deep breath and a giggle.
"All there?" She asked.
"All there. Two full litres. You were unconscious at 1.5," He sneered.
"I'm so upset." She said sarcastically, "Let's begin then, shall we?"
Three hours later, at eleven o'clock, twenty vials of freshly brewed potion were stored safely in Severus' special case for special potions and everyone went away happy, for a change.
