* * * A Pound of Cure * * *
There was, as he expected, a hell of a flap when he burst into the Infirmary bellowing for Pomfrey and Dumbledore. He absently noted that it was dark outside the windows again. Perhaps the brewing and testing had taken longer than he'd thought. No matter. He shoved past a tearful Granger and more grim-looking Weasleys than he had seen in one place for years.
Harry Potter was looking even worse than he had a few hours before. His skin now had the milky, waxen look of a drowning victim. He shivered rhythmically and his head jerked with palsy. Sirius Black was sitting on the bed beside him, his fingers running gently through Potter's sweat damp hair. He was murmuring stupid, ridiculous endearments to his godson in a loving tone that Snape would never have believed could come from the man he hated so deeply.
Fortunately Pomfrey materialized from her office just as Dumbledore bobbed into sight at the edge of the pack of redheads that had closed in demanding answers. "Poppy, get your wand." When she hesitated, Snape said in a very low tone, "Do it." She turned and ran for her office.
He could feel the Perpsessio burning out within him. Already he could feel the tremors in his hands and his thighs. There was a faintly echoing tremor from his chest and he coughed once. A warm hand on his shoulder felt curiously distant as Dumbledore said, "Severus? What have you found?"
"I found the antidote, Albus." He held the vial up before them all. The thick fluid inside glimmered like stardust, then subsided to its strange purple color again.
"But that looks like the poison."
Snape nodded, aware that he probably looked like a lunatic. His head felt too heavy for his neck now. Hell - what if he had managed to poison himself? He had, after all, broken his own rules about never eating while brewing. He made a mental note that Perpessio also made you careless.
"It's brilliant! Whoever crafted the poison designed it so that the only antidote is more of the same damned stuff."
There was a burst of protest at that and the words 'slimy', 'evil', 'mad', 'hated', 'brilliant' and 'git' all seemed to pelt his cold skin. Surprisingly, it was Black's voice that cut through the storm of sound, bellowing, "Quiet!" When the silence rang in the room, he said, more quietly, "Severus? Is it true?"
Snape nodded. "I think so."
"You think so?! What the hell kind of answer is that..." Ron Weasley's outrage was interrupted by a raspy voice that said, "It's the only answer we've got, Ron."
"Harry, we don't even know if it will work. It's a hell of a chance to take," Ron said bitterly.
"Well, we know for sure what will happen if I don't take that chance, don't we?" Harry struggled to sit up and managed it, with Sirius' help. "Professor?" He held out one shaking hand toward Snape.
Snape went to the left side of the bed, facing Black with Potter between them. Poppy and Dumbledore stood beside Black, both with their wands out and ready.
"Poppy, there won't be much time. As soon as you can see the potion taking effect, start your healing spells. I imagine the damage to his liver and stomach has been the worst. There's a fair amount of basilisk venom in the mix, so the nerve damage will also need immediate attention." Snape stopped, panting. His tongue felt too thick for the careful and precise words he preferred to use. "The second dose will bond with the poison and separate itself from Harry's bloodstream. It's a rather dramatic reaction; I'm afraid it won't be very pretty. Or comfortable," he said, finally looking into Potter's eyes.
The younger man shrugged painfully. "It's not likely to ruin my day, professor."
Snape smiled faintly and held out the vial to Potter. The trembling fingers tried to grasp it and failed. Snape caught the glass before it fell to the bed. Wordlessly, he sat on the bed beside Potter, then slipped an arm behind his shoulders. Black's arm was warm against his and Potter's flesh seemed so cold as they both held him upright. His head rolled a little and Snape caught it on his shoulder. He flipped the stopper out of the vial with his thumb, then held it to Potter's cracked lips. He felt the jerk as the poison touched Potter's tongue. He felt him swallow once, then twice, and then the vial was empty. A single purple drop trickled from the side of Harry's mouth. Snape wiped it gently away with a finger and held his breath.
"Tastes like troll snot," Potter whispered. Then the seizures started.
There was, as he expected, a hell of a flap when he burst into the Infirmary bellowing for Pomfrey and Dumbledore. He absently noted that it was dark outside the windows again. Perhaps the brewing and testing had taken longer than he'd thought. No matter. He shoved past a tearful Granger and more grim-looking Weasleys than he had seen in one place for years.
Harry Potter was looking even worse than he had a few hours before. His skin now had the milky, waxen look of a drowning victim. He shivered rhythmically and his head jerked with palsy. Sirius Black was sitting on the bed beside him, his fingers running gently through Potter's sweat damp hair. He was murmuring stupid, ridiculous endearments to his godson in a loving tone that Snape would never have believed could come from the man he hated so deeply.
Fortunately Pomfrey materialized from her office just as Dumbledore bobbed into sight at the edge of the pack of redheads that had closed in demanding answers. "Poppy, get your wand." When she hesitated, Snape said in a very low tone, "Do it." She turned and ran for her office.
He could feel the Perpsessio burning out within him. Already he could feel the tremors in his hands and his thighs. There was a faintly echoing tremor from his chest and he coughed once. A warm hand on his shoulder felt curiously distant as Dumbledore said, "Severus? What have you found?"
"I found the antidote, Albus." He held the vial up before them all. The thick fluid inside glimmered like stardust, then subsided to its strange purple color again.
"But that looks like the poison."
Snape nodded, aware that he probably looked like a lunatic. His head felt too heavy for his neck now. Hell - what if he had managed to poison himself? He had, after all, broken his own rules about never eating while brewing. He made a mental note that Perpessio also made you careless.
"It's brilliant! Whoever crafted the poison designed it so that the only antidote is more of the same damned stuff."
There was a burst of protest at that and the words 'slimy', 'evil', 'mad', 'hated', 'brilliant' and 'git' all seemed to pelt his cold skin. Surprisingly, it was Black's voice that cut through the storm of sound, bellowing, "Quiet!" When the silence rang in the room, he said, more quietly, "Severus? Is it true?"
Snape nodded. "I think so."
"You think so?! What the hell kind of answer is that..." Ron Weasley's outrage was interrupted by a raspy voice that said, "It's the only answer we've got, Ron."
"Harry, we don't even know if it will work. It's a hell of a chance to take," Ron said bitterly.
"Well, we know for sure what will happen if I don't take that chance, don't we?" Harry struggled to sit up and managed it, with Sirius' help. "Professor?" He held out one shaking hand toward Snape.
Snape went to the left side of the bed, facing Black with Potter between them. Poppy and Dumbledore stood beside Black, both with their wands out and ready.
"Poppy, there won't be much time. As soon as you can see the potion taking effect, start your healing spells. I imagine the damage to his liver and stomach has been the worst. There's a fair amount of basilisk venom in the mix, so the nerve damage will also need immediate attention." Snape stopped, panting. His tongue felt too thick for the careful and precise words he preferred to use. "The second dose will bond with the poison and separate itself from Harry's bloodstream. It's a rather dramatic reaction; I'm afraid it won't be very pretty. Or comfortable," he said, finally looking into Potter's eyes.
The younger man shrugged painfully. "It's not likely to ruin my day, professor."
Snape smiled faintly and held out the vial to Potter. The trembling fingers tried to grasp it and failed. Snape caught the glass before it fell to the bed. Wordlessly, he sat on the bed beside Potter, then slipped an arm behind his shoulders. Black's arm was warm against his and Potter's flesh seemed so cold as they both held him upright. His head rolled a little and Snape caught it on his shoulder. He flipped the stopper out of the vial with his thumb, then held it to Potter's cracked lips. He felt the jerk as the poison touched Potter's tongue. He felt him swallow once, then twice, and then the vial was empty. A single purple drop trickled from the side of Harry's mouth. Snape wiped it gently away with a finger and held his breath.
"Tastes like troll snot," Potter whispered. Then the seizures started.