Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any member of the Harry Potter universe. They belong to the estimable JK Rowling and I am infinitely grateful for her letting us borrow them to play with a bit.

Chapter Twelve: Ensnare the Senses

Zivra covered her mouth with one hand as they entered. "Can't you fumigate or something?" she coughed.

Snape stared at her from beneath lowered brows for a long moment before replying. "Potions require a delicate balance in order to brew properly. I cannot risk their stability for your fragile constitution."

Zivra rolled her eyes, "Considering it's my fragile constitution you're trying to help here, one would think you could make an exception."

He ignored her, his eyes scanning the workplace. "Miss Forasen, what on earth have you done with my notes?"

Desdemona slipped past her and made her way over to a back table. "I put them off to the side," she said, holding up the offending object.

"And why would you do that?"

"Because you nearly destroyed them the last time you set your eyebrows on fire."

Zivra suppressed her laughter. Unfortunately, it escaped in the guise of an ungainly snort. Which of course drew Snape's attention to her.

"Make yourself as comfortable as possible, I would personally suggest removing your outer robes. We could have a very long evening ahead of us."

Shrugging, Zivra slipped out of her robes. She rolled up the sleeves of her blouse to her elbows, then as an afterthought unbuttoned the neck. Probably further than she needed, but his condescending looks were annoying her. At his sardonic expression, she defended herself. "You said make yourself comfortable."

She thought she saw him roll his eyes as he issued instructions to the DADA teacher. For her part, Desdemona was wandering around the office, collecting vials and parchment, completely oblivious to the Potions Master's insistence that she was taking too long.

Bravo, my girl, Zivra thought to herself. Don't take anything from that overbearing bat if you don't have to.

Once Snape was satisfied with the array of instruments and implements in front of him, he gestured for his assistant to pick up her parchment and quill. Next he gestured Zivra into a large chair. He rolled his sleeves up before beginning his speech. "October twentieth nineteen hundred and ninety six. First test on runespoor victim, aged…" he faltered.

Zivra rolled her eyes, "Thirty-four." She smiled as she saw Desdemona's quill slip at the words 'runespoor victim'. It really wasn't a common ailment.

"Aged thirty-four, has been taking anti-venom concoction 'Alchemedes X' for twelve years. Administering 'Trial 1', one hundred milligrams, by injection." Snape then picked up a large syringe from the table next to him.

"Excuse me, injection?" Zivra held up her hands in front of her, "I don't like needles."

"Then I suggest you don't watch."

"You're not sticking that thing in my arm."

"You're right I'm not." Before Zivra could breathe a sigh of relief, he clarified, "I'm going to need to inject this directly into your heart."

"What?" Zivra nearly bolted from her chair, only Snape's hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"Professor Forasen, I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself-"

"You'd better bloody well make the time, and how can you not have it? I'm still feeling fine, we have plenty of time. You're not getting that thing anywhere-"

"Professor you're hysterical-"

"I am not."

"Rest assured that this is the best way to administer this particular-"

"If it's the best way, then there must be a worst way. Do it the worst way."

"Professor-"

"Have you even tested that?"

"I have performed all of the usual trials."

"The usual-?"

"And I assure you that it is perfectly safe."

"What kind of trials?"

"The standard kind." He lifted the syringe, one hand still holding her down by the shoulder.

"Get away from me with that thing."

"If you would just hold still this could be over with…" She could tell his teeth were gritted in frustration. She didn't care.

"I'm not going to hold still so you can-" Her words were cut off as Snape lunged forward, plunging the needle nearly into the centre of her chest. Several inches of it in fact. As she watched his long fingers press down on the pump she heard herself mumble, "You bastard," before she lost consciousness.

"You killed her."

"Be quiet girl. I most assuredly did not."

Desdemona regarded the slumped history professor for a moment without reply. She certainly looked dead. Snape picked up the woman's wrist, turning it over so her forearm was upward, then pressing two fingers to the inside.

"Pulse is steady."

Desdemona made a note of it.

He pried her eyelids open, "Pupils dilated, but unresponsive."

Desdemona made a note of it.

He placed his fingers to her nose next. After a moment, her lips parted, "Breathing normal."

Desdemona made a note of it. Her hands wee shaking. The sight of the women with a syringe as big around as her wrist in her chest was upsetting her.

Snape was reaching for some instrument when she asked, "Um professor?"

"What?" was his terse reply.

"Um, can you take that out?"

He turned to her, "What?"

She gestured and he turned towards the motion. "That."

"Oh, if it's really bothering you I suppose I..." At her frantic nod, he reached out and with a twist of one hand and a flick of his wand, the needle was out with no evidence of its passage. He rolled his eyes.

Dessie breathed a sigh a relief.

"Um Severus?" she ventured after a few moments.

"What is it now?" he snapped, in the middle of taking a blood sample from his unconscious victim… patient.

"She's twitching."

Snape's eyes followed hers to Zivra's fingers which were indeed twitching.

"Make a note of it," he instructed, reaching for a new instrument. With one hand he finished taking blood, and with the other he slipped a set of rings, linked by a chain, onto the hand that was twitching. The fingers stopped.

Dessie breathed a sigh of relief.

Snape was fiddling with a potion, muttering to himself as he contemplated the colour of the steam and the level of the flame.

"How long will she be out for?"

He glanced back over his shoulder, "Likely the remainder of the night. Thank Merlin." He muttered the last part, but Dessie heard him anyway.

She made a noise that might have been assent.

"So what are you doing on Halloween?"

Snape paused only momentarily in his brewing. This wasn't the first time the wench had tried this tactic. He'd lost count of the number of times he'd been asked what he was doing for dinner, or whether he was going to Hogsmede that weekend, or any number of other trivial facts that she had every intention of exploiting. But to what ends?

He made a mental note that if Professor Callistas was the other Death Eater at Hogwarts, then she kept her Mark under a very strong glamour. His quickly murmured counterspell had had no effect on her. If he'd had more time- and no audience- he could have done more. That brought him back to the question at hand.

"I have received invitation to be elsewhere."

"Malfoy Manor?"

His narrowed eyes flew to hers. "What makes you ask that?"

"Dearest Lucius is throwing a party, I simply assumed it was the one you spoke of."

"Dearest Lucius?" He hadn't missed the note of irony in her voice.

She rolled her eyes, "Well, is it?"

"Is it what?"

"Don't be obtuse, is it Lucius' party?"

What was the harm in telling her? "Yes."

"Perfect. I'll see you there then." She set the parchment she was holding down as she rose, "Do you need me still?"

He shook his head and she left without another word.

That had not gone according to plan.