One Young Heart
Chapter 14: Heartrot
Hermione came to in the Hospital Wing, in a bed surrounded by curtains. Extending a shaking hand, she saw the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall huddled in a corner, talking softly. They were discussing the plans of the Death Eaters in hushed voices. From across the room, Hermione caught the phrase "Severus will put them off the track... he will be punished... maybe caught..."
She dropped the curtain and fell back into the bed suddenly. At that moment she was suddenly, sickeningly glad that he was in danger. Serves him right for joining those people. And he even complained about Dumbledore for making him help the good guys.
In a bed a few feet away, George thrashed and yelled in his sleep, falling out of his bed with a dull thud. Violent and passionate in his sleep, he sat calm and passive awake. Madame Pomfrey appeared from somewhere to help him up, but when she asked if he was hurt, George stared at her with blank non comprehension and seemed to summon all his remaining strength to voice a monosyllabic "Who cares?"
Professor McGonagall clicked her tongue sympathetically, then turned to Dumbledore and whispered "What do you think is going on? Why did they attack the twins? Surely they only had eyes for their joke shop?" Dumbledore shook his head slightly, as though the movement hurt, then replied "I have no idea. Severus will tell us when he gets back." To McGonagall's frustrated sigh, he added "There is nothing to be done, for now at least. I only hope we don't lose Aurther's help because of this."
In his bed, George Weasly emitted a harsh, gasping laugh.
---
The small ghost town had been transformed into a maze of tents and men, tucked in chairs, sprawled on tables and fabricated beds. From the haze of magic that surrounded the camp, three parties appeared. Lucius Malfoy strode into the circle of fires, bowed straight to floor, and said "I have a list of the ministry officials who were not present today. Thirteen were absent. Ten had alibis. Arthur Weasly claimed a family emergency." He bowed again at the black gloved hand waved in his general direction, and spun on an immaculately booted heel before retreating to his pristine tent. Infamy suited Lucius, thought Severus idly. Arriving last of the three groups, he was reclining on a wall, and doing his best to manage noble sophistication through the mud and vegetation that had adhered to his cloak.
A minor dignitary was telling the Dark Lord all about his troubles falsifying his father's records. Severus wondered wryly whose beloved son this was, and reflected on how fortunate Draco Malfoy was to have a clear path. Some poor people had to try so hard to betray their sanity and their country.
The boy was sent off with another wave, and Severus composed himself quickly. Bitter humor was all well and good in the camp, with a hundred other Eaters ensuring privacy, but in the fire ring faces had to be straight and minds pure. He had never discovered how the Dark Lord kept the ring clear of interfering thoughts, but anything that happened in the ring was known to his Master. Unless you happened to be a brilliant Oclumenist. Severus cleared his mind, and stepped smoothly into the ring, angling his bow to emphasize his disheveled appearance. Voldemort watched him silently, but as Severus began to speak, he interrupted with a hand on his emissaries shoulder.
Severs stiffened. Being invited into the tent was reserved for A) the very favored, B) the very condemned, and C) those who had very important information. Severus was not favored, and if he was as condemned as all that there was no sense in worrying. Therefore, Fred Weasly must have known something. Something George Weasly also knew. Something they would die for. Something the Dark Lord did not wish to communicate to his servants. Any way you cut it, this was not good news for Dumbledore. Pushing that thought out of his mind, Severus ducked into the tent, followed by the Dark Lord, sat in the deep chair there. The tent was the same size that it appeared from the outside, rare in the wizarding world. There was avery unhappy fairy trapped in a lantern that provided the light for the room, giving everything a mystical pall. Shelves held the owner's personal library, books that almost anyone would kill to see. A chest held the one hundred most deadly potions ever conceived, and a girl of the muggle variety was tied to the tent pole, struggling weakly. Those who were invited into the tent talked over the girl and under the fairy, cucooned by the Dark Lord's hate. Severus didn't even blink on entering the claustrophobic space. he had seen it often, before....Dumbledore. He took especial care to avoid the chest. He had stolen or created most of the potions therein. It was an accomplishment to brag of, but not when the vials rested with He-Who-Would- Not-Hesitate-To-Kill-Everyone-Except-Fudge-Who-Dosne't-Deserve-It. Voldemort heard the improvised name, and smiled. "I concur, Severus. Fudge certainly deserves....creativity." Not for the reason I'm thinking of, thought the Potions Master grimly, then stifled the thought. THe Dark Lord was speaking. It would not do to interrupt.
"Severus, I have not communicated the nature of the information that Fred Weasly carried to anyone. I gave a general outline of the information to Jacques, my original envoy... but he won't be joining us at the victory celebration. Fred Weasly was carrying the recipe for a potion that would poison everything on contact. It is immensely powerful. A small portion in the water supply of Hogwarts.... would resolve many of our current challenges." "Heartrot, my Lord?" "So it would seem."
"The find of a generation, my lord." Severus was horrified. Merlin be hanged, didn't he destroy all of those records the first time around? Had the Weaslys gotten into his rooms? No. He would have had far more problems than this by now if they had. The simple idea of Heartrot being found was appalling. It would be the work of an instant to destroy Hogwarts, every spot where resistance was fostered, anywhere muggles lived. What was it muggles called them? Biological weapons. An understatement, in the extreme.
"What do you know of the Heartrot, Severus? I'm sure you know something about it, if you can name it straight off." Right. enter pet professor mode. "A poison found in Pandora's box, my lord. The vial spilled due to that lady's unfortunate distress, and the devastation can still be seen today in the form of the Sahara Desert. It is basically the antithesis of life, rather than a destroyer of it. When it contacts a live thing, it is immediately killed. Grass, trees, and the things that live off of that vegetation would be destroyed in a thirty mile radius of a site in which three drops were applied to the dirt. The insertion of a small amount into a river would kill both banks of a river clear until the point where it reached the sea. It is reputed to be based upon the blood of a unicorn, as those creatures are sacred, and should not be killed. If a drop is applied to a human's body, it will begin by killing the cells and nerves at the insertion site, the work straight in to the heart an brain. The entire process would take about two minuets. It is a thoroughly... efficient poison." He smirked, very much the obedient Slytherin.
"And what did you discover about he Weaslys?" Enter completely lying mode, making it up as you go: "Fred Weasly was discovered where he was killed. George Weasly joined the party. He appears to have gone insane. It was analyzing his mental state that kept me. At present, he is insufficiently aware of himself to be persuaded, with or without the aid of Veritaserum. Arthur Weasly made a passing reference to his wife's sanity and departed. He gave no remark to indicate that he represented a group of any kind." "And the other children? McGonagall? Dumbledore? who found him first? Was Potter there?" "Potter, it seems, was unaware of your lordship's vexation. I regret to say that Dumbledore's training is succeeding where mine failed. McGonagall was not there. Dumbledore was visibly irritated. I do not know who found the boy. I saw no evidence of the young Miss Weasly, but," He hesitated. "The youngest boy, Ron, has fled the school. They seem unable to find him." He was endangering the boy, but it was Ron's bloody fault he left, wasn't it? Stupid boy, if he'd ever seen one.
A few phrases of casual banter, an injunction to watch George, and he was gone. Behind him, he heard Voldemort release the girl's gag. Her rage, her violation, filled the camp as he casually apparated. Lucius Malfoy watched him leave. Something would have to be done with Severus Snape. The question was, what?
---
An eerie hissing sound filled the Hospital Wing. Hermione peaked out from behind her curtains. A handful of sand grains were swirling around in the center of the room. As she watched, more appeared, and more, until an absolute sandstorm was developing in the room. Slowly, it coalesced, developed form and solidity, but it was not until the final grains settled into place that Hermione could recognize Severus Snape, immaculate in his teacher's robes. "Well, that was interesting" McGonagall observed acidly. "Yes, well it beats the Knight Bus, doesn't it?" sneered the new arrival "Stick out your thumb and get your ear chewed off." The trip didn't seem to have improved his temper, thought Hermione. Dumbledore came forward to greet Snape, but he ducked away from the Headmaster. "You." he spat, and it was plain that if they were not in a school, he would be yelling as loud as he could. "You had bloody well tell me what Fred Weasly is doing running around with deadly potion recipes. Good Lord! Are you mad?" Arthur Weasly, who had entered some hours ago and had been silently holding Gorge's hand, rose and turned pink from the neck up. "The boys found an old hideout for Death Eaters. It had a potion recipe in it. The boys thought it might be dangerous, so they each memorized half of it and burned the paper. We wanted to take it to a potions master, but..." He turned pinker "But you think I am possessed with a sincere desire to help that imbecilic half- blood dark wizard" hissed Snape. "And if you haven't killed us all, you've definitely killed me, which should be some comfort." For the first time in Hermione knowledge, Mr. Weasly was definitely riled. His head shot back up, and he glared at the tall, powerful man before him. "Yes, thank you, it is. I can't believe that you can still be going on about purity of blood at a moment like this." At Dumbledore's mild request for calm, Mr. Weasly seemed even angrier. "No, I will not be calm! Listen to the little supremacist! And he's joking about a recipe when my son is dead!"
For once, it was Snape who was calm, but as he drew himself upright, Hermione was far more afraid of him than she had ever been before. There was something terrible in his wrath, suggesting that he knew everything and was tired of hearing it. "I was not joking, Arthur. I expect you think that they have a brownie recipe in their heads, and that you son was killed because he knew the walking liability you call Harry Potter. Let me inform you that Voldemort believes your sons found the Heartrot potion. Perhaps you do not recall the pains I took to destroy the records of this potion previously." He spun, and now there was no superiority in his face. "Albus, you may recall that there was a possible recipe that I abandoned the search for, on your advice. Unfortunately, it would seem that the innocent refuse to be protected." And Snape retired to a corner, to watch the effect of his words.
Hermione froze, horrified. Madame Pomfrey, who was in the vicinity, dropped into a dead faint. Minervra McGonagall backed away from him, hands clasped tightly over her mouth. Arthur Weasly was a green as he had been pink. Dumbledore had grabbed a counter, as though for support. Finding his voice again, he asked "Do these two boys have the only remaining record?" "No. I have a copy of it. I thought that it might be analyzed to find an antidote, and thereby a universal healer. However, testing my theories would involve the use of several illicit substances." Arthur Weasly squeaked "You see! You see what this man is doing! stealing our secrets!"
Dumbledore, meanwhile, had hurried to George's side. Now, he shook the boy into wakefulness. "Do you know a potion, George?" he asked kindly. Getting no response, he shook the boy harder. "Recite the potion you know, George. Then I'll let you sleep."
It might have been a ghost speaking, or a automated voice, when George began to whisper
"3 Pints of Unicorn Blood,
2 ounces of Dragon's tooth, ground.
1 caterpillar shredded,
3 lacewings,
7 asparagus roots,
12 Hemlock leaves....."
Chapter 14: Heartrot
Hermione came to in the Hospital Wing, in a bed surrounded by curtains. Extending a shaking hand, she saw the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall huddled in a corner, talking softly. They were discussing the plans of the Death Eaters in hushed voices. From across the room, Hermione caught the phrase "Severus will put them off the track... he will be punished... maybe caught..."
She dropped the curtain and fell back into the bed suddenly. At that moment she was suddenly, sickeningly glad that he was in danger. Serves him right for joining those people. And he even complained about Dumbledore for making him help the good guys.
In a bed a few feet away, George thrashed and yelled in his sleep, falling out of his bed with a dull thud. Violent and passionate in his sleep, he sat calm and passive awake. Madame Pomfrey appeared from somewhere to help him up, but when she asked if he was hurt, George stared at her with blank non comprehension and seemed to summon all his remaining strength to voice a monosyllabic "Who cares?"
Professor McGonagall clicked her tongue sympathetically, then turned to Dumbledore and whispered "What do you think is going on? Why did they attack the twins? Surely they only had eyes for their joke shop?" Dumbledore shook his head slightly, as though the movement hurt, then replied "I have no idea. Severus will tell us when he gets back." To McGonagall's frustrated sigh, he added "There is nothing to be done, for now at least. I only hope we don't lose Aurther's help because of this."
In his bed, George Weasly emitted a harsh, gasping laugh.
---
The small ghost town had been transformed into a maze of tents and men, tucked in chairs, sprawled on tables and fabricated beds. From the haze of magic that surrounded the camp, three parties appeared. Lucius Malfoy strode into the circle of fires, bowed straight to floor, and said "I have a list of the ministry officials who were not present today. Thirteen were absent. Ten had alibis. Arthur Weasly claimed a family emergency." He bowed again at the black gloved hand waved in his general direction, and spun on an immaculately booted heel before retreating to his pristine tent. Infamy suited Lucius, thought Severus idly. Arriving last of the three groups, he was reclining on a wall, and doing his best to manage noble sophistication through the mud and vegetation that had adhered to his cloak.
A minor dignitary was telling the Dark Lord all about his troubles falsifying his father's records. Severus wondered wryly whose beloved son this was, and reflected on how fortunate Draco Malfoy was to have a clear path. Some poor people had to try so hard to betray their sanity and their country.
The boy was sent off with another wave, and Severus composed himself quickly. Bitter humor was all well and good in the camp, with a hundred other Eaters ensuring privacy, but in the fire ring faces had to be straight and minds pure. He had never discovered how the Dark Lord kept the ring clear of interfering thoughts, but anything that happened in the ring was known to his Master. Unless you happened to be a brilliant Oclumenist. Severus cleared his mind, and stepped smoothly into the ring, angling his bow to emphasize his disheveled appearance. Voldemort watched him silently, but as Severus began to speak, he interrupted with a hand on his emissaries shoulder.
Severs stiffened. Being invited into the tent was reserved for A) the very favored, B) the very condemned, and C) those who had very important information. Severus was not favored, and if he was as condemned as all that there was no sense in worrying. Therefore, Fred Weasly must have known something. Something George Weasly also knew. Something they would die for. Something the Dark Lord did not wish to communicate to his servants. Any way you cut it, this was not good news for Dumbledore. Pushing that thought out of his mind, Severus ducked into the tent, followed by the Dark Lord, sat in the deep chair there. The tent was the same size that it appeared from the outside, rare in the wizarding world. There was avery unhappy fairy trapped in a lantern that provided the light for the room, giving everything a mystical pall. Shelves held the owner's personal library, books that almost anyone would kill to see. A chest held the one hundred most deadly potions ever conceived, and a girl of the muggle variety was tied to the tent pole, struggling weakly. Those who were invited into the tent talked over the girl and under the fairy, cucooned by the Dark Lord's hate. Severus didn't even blink on entering the claustrophobic space. he had seen it often, before....Dumbledore. He took especial care to avoid the chest. He had stolen or created most of the potions therein. It was an accomplishment to brag of, but not when the vials rested with He-Who-Would- Not-Hesitate-To-Kill-Everyone-Except-Fudge-Who-Dosne't-Deserve-It. Voldemort heard the improvised name, and smiled. "I concur, Severus. Fudge certainly deserves....creativity." Not for the reason I'm thinking of, thought the Potions Master grimly, then stifled the thought. THe Dark Lord was speaking. It would not do to interrupt.
"Severus, I have not communicated the nature of the information that Fred Weasly carried to anyone. I gave a general outline of the information to Jacques, my original envoy... but he won't be joining us at the victory celebration. Fred Weasly was carrying the recipe for a potion that would poison everything on contact. It is immensely powerful. A small portion in the water supply of Hogwarts.... would resolve many of our current challenges." "Heartrot, my Lord?" "So it would seem."
"The find of a generation, my lord." Severus was horrified. Merlin be hanged, didn't he destroy all of those records the first time around? Had the Weaslys gotten into his rooms? No. He would have had far more problems than this by now if they had. The simple idea of Heartrot being found was appalling. It would be the work of an instant to destroy Hogwarts, every spot where resistance was fostered, anywhere muggles lived. What was it muggles called them? Biological weapons. An understatement, in the extreme.
"What do you know of the Heartrot, Severus? I'm sure you know something about it, if you can name it straight off." Right. enter pet professor mode. "A poison found in Pandora's box, my lord. The vial spilled due to that lady's unfortunate distress, and the devastation can still be seen today in the form of the Sahara Desert. It is basically the antithesis of life, rather than a destroyer of it. When it contacts a live thing, it is immediately killed. Grass, trees, and the things that live off of that vegetation would be destroyed in a thirty mile radius of a site in which three drops were applied to the dirt. The insertion of a small amount into a river would kill both banks of a river clear until the point where it reached the sea. It is reputed to be based upon the blood of a unicorn, as those creatures are sacred, and should not be killed. If a drop is applied to a human's body, it will begin by killing the cells and nerves at the insertion site, the work straight in to the heart an brain. The entire process would take about two minuets. It is a thoroughly... efficient poison." He smirked, very much the obedient Slytherin.
"And what did you discover about he Weaslys?" Enter completely lying mode, making it up as you go: "Fred Weasly was discovered where he was killed. George Weasly joined the party. He appears to have gone insane. It was analyzing his mental state that kept me. At present, he is insufficiently aware of himself to be persuaded, with or without the aid of Veritaserum. Arthur Weasly made a passing reference to his wife's sanity and departed. He gave no remark to indicate that he represented a group of any kind." "And the other children? McGonagall? Dumbledore? who found him first? Was Potter there?" "Potter, it seems, was unaware of your lordship's vexation. I regret to say that Dumbledore's training is succeeding where mine failed. McGonagall was not there. Dumbledore was visibly irritated. I do not know who found the boy. I saw no evidence of the young Miss Weasly, but," He hesitated. "The youngest boy, Ron, has fled the school. They seem unable to find him." He was endangering the boy, but it was Ron's bloody fault he left, wasn't it? Stupid boy, if he'd ever seen one.
A few phrases of casual banter, an injunction to watch George, and he was gone. Behind him, he heard Voldemort release the girl's gag. Her rage, her violation, filled the camp as he casually apparated. Lucius Malfoy watched him leave. Something would have to be done with Severus Snape. The question was, what?
---
An eerie hissing sound filled the Hospital Wing. Hermione peaked out from behind her curtains. A handful of sand grains were swirling around in the center of the room. As she watched, more appeared, and more, until an absolute sandstorm was developing in the room. Slowly, it coalesced, developed form and solidity, but it was not until the final grains settled into place that Hermione could recognize Severus Snape, immaculate in his teacher's robes. "Well, that was interesting" McGonagall observed acidly. "Yes, well it beats the Knight Bus, doesn't it?" sneered the new arrival "Stick out your thumb and get your ear chewed off." The trip didn't seem to have improved his temper, thought Hermione. Dumbledore came forward to greet Snape, but he ducked away from the Headmaster. "You." he spat, and it was plain that if they were not in a school, he would be yelling as loud as he could. "You had bloody well tell me what Fred Weasly is doing running around with deadly potion recipes. Good Lord! Are you mad?" Arthur Weasly, who had entered some hours ago and had been silently holding Gorge's hand, rose and turned pink from the neck up. "The boys found an old hideout for Death Eaters. It had a potion recipe in it. The boys thought it might be dangerous, so they each memorized half of it and burned the paper. We wanted to take it to a potions master, but..." He turned pinker "But you think I am possessed with a sincere desire to help that imbecilic half- blood dark wizard" hissed Snape. "And if you haven't killed us all, you've definitely killed me, which should be some comfort." For the first time in Hermione knowledge, Mr. Weasly was definitely riled. His head shot back up, and he glared at the tall, powerful man before him. "Yes, thank you, it is. I can't believe that you can still be going on about purity of blood at a moment like this." At Dumbledore's mild request for calm, Mr. Weasly seemed even angrier. "No, I will not be calm! Listen to the little supremacist! And he's joking about a recipe when my son is dead!"
For once, it was Snape who was calm, but as he drew himself upright, Hermione was far more afraid of him than she had ever been before. There was something terrible in his wrath, suggesting that he knew everything and was tired of hearing it. "I was not joking, Arthur. I expect you think that they have a brownie recipe in their heads, and that you son was killed because he knew the walking liability you call Harry Potter. Let me inform you that Voldemort believes your sons found the Heartrot potion. Perhaps you do not recall the pains I took to destroy the records of this potion previously." He spun, and now there was no superiority in his face. "Albus, you may recall that there was a possible recipe that I abandoned the search for, on your advice. Unfortunately, it would seem that the innocent refuse to be protected." And Snape retired to a corner, to watch the effect of his words.
Hermione froze, horrified. Madame Pomfrey, who was in the vicinity, dropped into a dead faint. Minervra McGonagall backed away from him, hands clasped tightly over her mouth. Arthur Weasly was a green as he had been pink. Dumbledore had grabbed a counter, as though for support. Finding his voice again, he asked "Do these two boys have the only remaining record?" "No. I have a copy of it. I thought that it might be analyzed to find an antidote, and thereby a universal healer. However, testing my theories would involve the use of several illicit substances." Arthur Weasly squeaked "You see! You see what this man is doing! stealing our secrets!"
Dumbledore, meanwhile, had hurried to George's side. Now, he shook the boy into wakefulness. "Do you know a potion, George?" he asked kindly. Getting no response, he shook the boy harder. "Recite the potion you know, George. Then I'll let you sleep."
It might have been a ghost speaking, or a automated voice, when George began to whisper
"3 Pints of Unicorn Blood,
2 ounces of Dragon's tooth, ground.
1 caterpillar shredded,
3 lacewings,
7 asparagus roots,
12 Hemlock leaves....."