rabbit, rather forlornly: "It's just too cold outside... and we've eaten all the chocolate chip cookies..."
Jinx, merrily: "Well, then, I guess we're gonna have to make some Screaming Loud Brownies." Here's how: Prepare one batch of your favorite brownie batter. (A mix will work nicely.) Then:
Chop up one cup of dried cherries (pitted) and half a cup of dark raisins (we love Thompson's Black Jewels, available at Whole Foods). Add up to half a cup of liquid made from 2 ounces of good brandy and water, and then plump in the microwave for thirty seconds on high. (Add time if the fruit hasn't plumped.) Add all of this to the brownie batter. (You will want to cut any other liquids in the batter to accommodate the brandy-water which isn't absorbed by the fruit.)
Stir thoroughly and bake, watching over it closely as it gets nearly done. When a knife slides out clean, it's done. Think of the steaming hot fruit and steel your resolve to let it cool for about ten minutes no matter how insistently it's calling you.
Devour.
Makes one large brownie.
While you're waiting for that to finish baking, here's another treat for you...
Ramifications Chapter 8
Malfoy walked away from the fracas and located the wooden lunchboxes stacked neatly beside a haybale. He selected one from the middle as least likely to be Poisoned By Those Who Seek Our Downfall, and sought Restorative Isolation within one of the cleaner stalls. The door refused to lock (no door at Hogwarts would, for any student) but he plunked an upturned bucket down as a doorstop and settled down atop it to partake of his midday repast.
Expertly he tapped the box, which promptly opened like an origami flower to reveal its predictable contents: one red apple, two dry cheese sandwiches with an oddly chalky taste, a bottle of chilled pumpkin juice, and - like an apology - one delicious chocolate chip cookie.
Lucius ate that first.
It helped. Not nearly enough.
He solaced himself more satisfactorially with happy thoughts of Libidinous Lockhart's lingering demise, which must come very soon. After all, how long can this go on?
He bit his tongue as he realized: Potentially, another year and a half. Assuming Lockhart left school with a diploma instead of his very own monogrammed casket.
Dallying with a Sixth Year, what is she playing at? But what else ought he have expected, when she'd given him that gilt-edged, gryphonhide-bound edition of Les Liasons Dangereuses for Christmas?
And now she's got her very own Chevalier Dunce -
Lucius actually laughed aloud as he suddenly realized just what Lackadaisical Lockhart had gotten himself into. Oh, brilliant, the bumbling buffoon will provide us with months of entertainment -
Cheered by Narcissa's thoughtful gesture of Starting A Hobby We Can Enjoy As A Couple, Lucius raised his bottle of pumpkin juice in salute of his Sweet Intended, and in much improved humor continued dining.
The silence outside his Sanctuary was broken by James Potter's inquisitive challenge: "Don't know what you're laughing about, Malfoy... looks like Lockhart's got your girl!"
Looks like. Lucius grinned wickedly.
Black volleyed, "Looks more like she's got him!"
Pettigrew laughed like a fool and added snidely, "It won't last! First time she leaves clawmarks, he'll run crying to Madame Pomfrey! Right, Remus?"
In the dusty silence which met this pronouncement, Pettigrew tried urgently, "Don't you think so, Remus!"
Lupin snuffled briefly between hearty snores.
Brisk footsteps preceded a hearty slap, and Pettigrew yelped in two syllables, "Wha-t?"
Potter snapped at him, "Shut up, Peter."
Goyle, impervious to the Marauder's antics, announced wearily, "I hate these damn cheese sandwiches. Anyone want to trade for an apple?"
Pettigrew agreed immediately, "Yeah, sure! Give me your sandwiches!"
"Well, if you want both you're going to have to - "
Lucius stopped listening as the traditional Noontide Negotiations commenced. He did, however, Grace The Undeserving Company With An Inspiring Presence long enough to secure for himself three more chocolate chip cookies.
He also took a moment to survey his domain, hoping to locate Sev and take possession of his dessert as well. After some searching he found Snape tucked neatly into a corner, looking roughly outwrung and clutching his unopened lunchbox. The soggy swot was once more watching the flight of the invisible bumblebee, humming idly along as he noted its progress.
Lucius startled thoroughly as he realized what was seriously wrong: Snape's hair was actually Dry. In utter surprise it was standing out from his head in all directions, lending him something of the look of an ebony anemone.
Malfoy found his voice and asked faintly, "All right, Sev?"
"The Avon lady's going to take me home," Snape answered amiably.
"Oh... good... yes," Lucius soothed, "directly after lunch." He tapped Snape's lunchbox to make it open.
Sev blinked at its blooming, seeming puzzled by the absence of the invisible bee as opportunity presented itself. "Hi, honey," he sighed, and picked up the chocolate chip cookie.
Lucius snatched it from him. "Sev! Give me that!" He took the lunchbox too, with a dire warning: "Deadly poisonous in combination with that last dose! What WERE you thinking?"
Snape stared at him, which Malfoy deemed progress.
After some moments the bewildered swot volunteered shakily, "Lemonade?"
"Not hardly," Lucius informed him, pocketing Sev's cookie. "Here," he commanded, thrusting the bottle of pumpkin juice at Snape, "drink this quickly or you'll perish"
Sev boggled at him, seized the bottle and bolted the juice down, which at least got something beneficial inside him. Malfoy took possession of the cheese sandwiches, and handed Snape the apple. "Very good, you owe me your life. Here. Eat this."
"I'm not sleepy!" Snape protested.
"But you are representing the control group. Now eat that apple."
Sev began gnawing at it. Malfoy left him and negotiated his way back to his Private Dining Room, where he enjoyed a refreshing lunch of mostly sugar, happily contemplating the Spell-o-tape now holding Potter's glasses together.
After awhile there came a tapping as of someone gently rapping at the stall door, accompanied by Sev's queasy murmur, "Are you done in there? I don't feel so good."
Lucius surged to his feet, whipped the bucket off the floor, kicked open the door, jammed the bucket into Sev's arms, shoved the quaking swot into the next stall over and waited with resignation for the too familiar sounds of Snape being profoundly sick.
"Lunchtime's over!" Hagrid announced cheerfully, as he sidled into the barn bearing several sheepsweight of sloshing buckets on a pole across his broad shoulders. "It's back ter work, boys!"
He set his burdens down with eight splashy thuds.
The prisoners waited with clenched teeth for the singing bubbles to froth into an exultant fog.
They didn't, which proved that Mercy Hath Not Vanished Entire From This World.
Possibly.
Hagrid extracted a demijohn from one of his teeming pockets. It was plain brown glass, and as he uncorked it an acrid tang accenturated the general stench of the barn. He poured a generous dollop of clear liquid into each bucket. "Here ya go. Vinegar and water! Won't be as fast, but seein' as how you used all that Ella's Enchanted Everkleen, this'll hafter do. Add enough elbow grease, and before you know it you'll have these stalls all washed down properlike!"
Goyle frowned. "But we haven't got any."
"Sure y'have," encouraged the Groundskeeper.
"No, we haven't," Crabbe chimed in. "No one gave us any."
Goyle gave up rubbing at his sleeve and said with sudden hope, "Unless Sev has some! Sev?"
Faint puking sounds came from the stall beside Malfoy's.
"Oh, no, not him as well…" Hagrid stepped carefully over Lupin and hurried to check on the suffering swot.
Lucius distanced himself from These Unsavory Proceedings and with interest considered Lupin's situation: still deeply asleep, the smallest Marauder was hazily visible through a golden dome of haychaff; within its boundaries the boy and floor and air were all quite clear of any fleck of hay, which was A Potentially Useful Effect Of That Hayfever Potion.
Unfortunately, the total absence of hay accentuated the omnipresence of gritty dirt and grime. They were going to have a lot of expunging to do.
In the stall behind Malfoy, Snape was explaining weakly and rather petulantly, "It's rabbit's fault. Someone always pukes in her stories." He belched protractedly and complained, "Mostly it's me."
"Yeah, well, yeh've finished, now," Hagrid encouraged him hopefully. "Now, c'mon outta here." There was a kind of wheezing whine of protest, moments before Hagrid emerged from the stall with Sev slung over one shoulder, proving once and for all to Lucius that the great oaf had Not The Commonest Sense. Then again, that fright of a coat couldn't get any more befouled. Bits of its scurf were attaching themselves to Snape's hair, which had already recovered enough of its natural oils to attract a sprinkling of yellow, like pollen on a bee.
Hagrid paused to consider Lupin's dormant form, and muttered, "Well, I s'pose that evens things out." He scooped up the Marauder onto his other shoulder and betook his burdens to the largest stall at the very end of the row. "They'll do fine in here" he declared to his other captives. "Yen c'n keep an eye on 'em as yeh start out, and then yeh c'n use the spigot in here and check on 'em whenever yeh refill yer buckets. I've left yeh the jug o' vinegar, and there's a bit more in the crock by the tack room if you use that up, but that's the lot, so don't waste it!" he warned.
" 'Refill the buckets?' " echoed Lucius tartly.
Hagrid grinned at him. "I would. But that's up ter you." He clapped his hands, startling the lucid boys. "Now," He beamed.
They braced.
"Yeh're all gonna work T'GETHER ter clean all these stalls!" Hagrid announced brightly.
"You don't honestly believe that?" Black said just as brightly.
"Tell you what," Potter proposed sunnily, "we'll take that half, you" he indicated Malfoy and his bookends"take that half, and whoever gets their side cleaned up first will get a nice rest while the other team finishes."
"We-ell" said Hagrid.
"It'd get the barn clean, with a minimum of mayhem," coaxed Potter, looking imploringly through his bandaged glasses whilst casting a winsome grin up at Hagrid.
Malfoy Calculated The Odds, factoring in three and a half years' worth of experience Tidying Away Sev's Latest In A Series Of Unfortunate Attempts. He smiled like a fox and announced, "We accept the terms!"
"Done!" agreed Potter.
They shook hands and squared off, taking up their buckets and the large brushes bobbing therein.
"Er," said Hagrid uncertainly, "I dunno - "
The Gryffindors began scrubbing assiduously at the first of many stalls; the Slytherins commenced scrubbing efficiently at the walls of another.
Hagrid harrumphed. "We-ell, I s—"
An agonized shriek echoed from the pasture.
The boys all froze, staring in horror towards the barn doors which were only wood now and wide open.
Hagrid sighed, "Oh, dear." Shaking his head, he fished in his pockets until he found a large jar bearing a depiction of a horse writhing miserably with all four legs desperately churning the air. "This should do it," Hagrid decided. " 'Clean as a whistle,' it says. Yeah" he agreed with himself, and gruffly told his bewildered prisoners, "Don't break anythin' or any one while I'm gone!" He glared at them. "Back in a tick," he warned, and hurried out of the barn as another horrible scream rent the air.
The boys were thoroughly glad to see him shut the doors securely behind him.
"So," asked Black curiously, "what's the real plan, James?"
Potter looked at him wearily and said, "We're going to clean the damn barn so we can have a proper dinner and sleep in our own beds tonight."
"Seconded," sighed Malfoy.
From the pasture a flurry of agitated shrieks rang out, followed by the sounds of an epic struggle for survival.
The detainees started vigorously cleaning the barn, which after all might have to serve as their home for the next several days or even weeks, until the Aurors could be notified of their need for rescue.
••
After nearly half an hour, Crabbe clumped over to Malfoy and plunked down his bucket, wearing a look of disdain. This didn't Bode Well and Lucius looked down his finely shaped nose at him.
Crabbe complained, "This vinegar infusion doesn't work any better than spit."
Lucius informed him, "It's meant to be Building Character."
"Yeah, well, it's doing nothing so far as I can tell," Goyle grumped, thunking down his bucket beside Crabbe's. "This is useless. Maybe there's more of that Everkleen stuff?"
"NO!" cried everyone else.
"There you are!" said Potter with a fanatical cheerfulness that might have been more impressive if he hadn't been trying to keep back a yawn. "We actually did learn to agree and cooperate. Well done, us. Now we can tell them that honestly, when they ask if we've succeeded In Learning Better Ways."
Lucius scowled at him, disliking the Marauder's haughty tone. "Right. So that's done," he clipped. "Too bad the barn isn't."
"The barn's huge," whined Pettigrew. Again.
"So's Hagrid!" snapped Black. "Keep scrubbing or someone will use you as a mop."
"Hey!" Potter yelped, breaking into a perilous grin. "We could use Remus!" He darted into the stall where the incapacitated boys were resting.
Crabbe asked perfunctorily, "Save him or seek cover?"
"There's a wall between us and them," Lucius reassured him, and waited for the outraged screaming to start.
The ensuing silence was disheartening. Sev was really Out Of It, this time.
Potter emerged unscathed, still grinning and frogmarching his dazed friend along; the two of them were scarcely visible through a glittering golden globe.
"Look!" cried Pettigrew. "It's a haylo - "
…
"This is why everyone hates you," said Malfoy.
"It's working!" Potter exulted. "Look! You can push the loose hay along in front of him!" He slipped, recovered quickly and added, "But not the used hay, apparently... eugh!" He scraped his boots against the edge of a stall door and carried on blithely.
"Like Hell it is!" cried Black. "STOP!"
Lupin had spent the morning trying to escape the hay, but now the tables were overturned; the hay was actually flying away from him as he was moved, and the faster his progress, the worse the haystorm grew.
Lucius clung onto his goons for balance until Potter Realized His Error and braked Lupin to a halt. As the hay sifted gently to earth Malfoy gritted, "I'm so glad we spent our morning collecting all this into neat piles."
"Sorry," gruffed Potter. "All right, Remus? Remus?"
"Izzit lunchtime?" mumbled his sleepy companion.
"No," Potter told him. "We're cleaning the barn now. Nono! DON'T SIT DOWN!" he warned, holding Lupin on his feet. "It's all over horseshit!" When this made no impression on the dazed Marauder, Potter called, "Sirius, toss us that broom, I'll prop him up, thank y - " He broke off staring as the broom's neatly tied haystraws splayed out like a windsprung umbrella. "Er- let's change it for a mop."
Lupin muttered, "I don' wanna change."
"Then don't lie down and you won't have to," Potter told him brightly. He took the mop Black threw him, and crammed it into Lupin's hands. "Here, hang on tight! Good! Just keep mopping, we're nearly done!" He pushed the mop into motion and Lupin took up the cadence like a clockwork novelty. "Great!" Potter approved, "just keep doing that!" He carefully released his friend, waited long enough to be sure Lupin would continue on his own, and hurried back to his own bucket and stared into it with dismay. "Oh, bother, it's full of hay."
"You think?" snipped Lucius ominously.
"Nevermind!" Potter rallied, "we'll just start fresh!" He dumped out his bucket onto the floor.
Pettigrew squealed, "I just cleaned that part!"
"Sorry, mate! No one could tell, anyway!" Potter loped back to the stall with the spigot. "Now, if Snape hasn't drunk all the vinegar…"
Lucius waited for the outraged shrieking to commence.
When again it did not, Malfoy began to grow Concerned. Sev was Really Out Of It, this time. Lucius edged towards the stall, listening intently and ready to Prudently Retreat at any moment.
"Hey, Snape?" Potter queried very loudly and a bit uncertainly. "Still alive?"
In answer came an ominous belch, the kind which inevitably preceded a rousing bout of Projectile Vomiting With Accompanying Headspinning.
Potter came hurrying out of the stall, wearing his bucket as a helmet. "Run for it! I think this time he's gonna turn inside-out and explOde !"
The Marauders ran for the far end of the barn, hauling Lupin along with them and raising a blinding haystorm which scattered the Slytherins like autumn leaves.
When the dust settled, Malfoy disentangled himself from his cape and sat up to discover himself Utterly Abandoned.
Everyone else had evacuated the danger zone. Everyone.
Everyone but Snape.
For whom he was Personally Responsible. Lucius disentangled himself from some barnyard implements he couldn't begin to name, shook off the layer of hay, squared his shoulders and told himself firmly, He can't be in that much trouble. They don't let Fourth Years near potions ingredients that powerful-
Of course Sev had that extensive private stash of Unusual Ingredients With Interesting Possibilities which Lucius had given him over the years. And who knows what he might have done with those-
The silence from the stall was unbearable. Lucius marched to the door and threw it open and stepped briskly inside, demanding crisply, "All right, Sev?"
The wretched swot was sprawled out like a discarded ragdoll in a comer, his uniform stained dark from collar to belly and his hay-encrusted hair standing out from his head like the petals of a wilting sunflower.
He seemed if anything well past consciousness, and Lucius decided to drag him over to the spigot. A good dousing might Improve Matters Somewhat.
With efficiency born of frequent practice, Malfoy seized Snape and towed him across the floor, propped him against the wall beneath the spigot and set the water to gushing onto the enfeebled muckmeddler.
Snape spluttered, then coughed, and jerked away from the deluge, rolling instinctively aside to fetch up in a surprised crouch with the customary dismayed sigh, "oops."
"All right, Sev?" Malfoy inquired with uninterested solicitude.
"Too much heat," Snape apologized, starting to daub at the straw with his cape.
Lucius felt this a useful start. At least he can scrub floors, and I know he can do that in his slee-
Malfoy collapsed in a heap as something ensnared his ankle; he cracked his head on the gushing spigot and saw stars.
Next thing he knew he was pinned against the wall, with Sev's hand covering his mouth and Snape glaring like a cobra at him as the wretched swot whispered dangerously, "Hi, Luke. Lovely little detention we're having. Where's my wand?"
It was rather difficult to answer with one's mouth covered. Lucius glared right back at his presumptuous lieutenant, and waited.
Snape cautiously removed his hand from Lucius's face.
Malfoy whispered contemptuously, "You're back, are you?"
"Briefly." Snape said and then repeated, "Where. Is. My. Wand."
It was almost a pleasure to tell him: "Probably on the Headmaster's desk, with mine and all the rest."
"...what?"
"No wands," Lucius rather enjoyed telling him. "No magic allowed, during our detention."
Sev said something that actually sparked the air blue. And then launched into his usual tirade, all sotto voce, "Every time I get involved in these Machiavellian plots of yours, all I have to show for it is humiliation and bruises and ruined garments and wait- d'you mean the Marauders haven't any wands either?"
"Yes."
Snape laughed like a broken hinge.
Grinning he sighed, "Really."
He shook Lucius, who answered crossly, "Really."
If anything Snape's grin widened, and he breathed, "Oh lovely." He stared at something only he could see and it was great and strange and Lucius suddenly quite missed the invisible bee.
Snape released him, saying briskly, "So. We're all gathered here in the barn and we're cleaning it 'til it sparkles or we drop. Is that it?"
"Pretty much," Lucius admitted. His automatic correction of his deshaibille was interrupted by a sharp twinge and he grimaced at his sore hands, which were actually Blistered.
Snape glanced at them, rummaged in his cape and handed over a small tin. "Dry your hands and rub that into them, thoroughly," he directed.
Lucius did not.
"It's not poisoned," Snape sighed impatiently. "It's what I use, and it works fine." He showed Lucius his hands, which were refinedly pale but hideously callused from endless stirring and ladling and mincing and wringing.
Lucius sniffed the balm, which smelt of mint, and cautiously applied a little to his aching digits. It did help, almost at once, and he continued more optimistically.
While he did this, the dripping swot found the two spare buckets Hagrid had left in case he or Lupin recovered, and lugged them over to the gushing spigot. While the water ran he rummaged in his cape again and soon busied himself over the brimming buckets; the water in them turned a vibrant orange for a few moments before clarifying completely. Snape nodded and approved, "That should help considerably... and if you three can manage not to provoke the Marauders into an all-out fray, you'll have the barn clean within the hour so we can all go back to the castle."
He glared at Lucius. "It's a good deal better than you deserve," he growled, "but I don't mean to linger here one moment more than I must, and unfortunately I can't leave on my own." He scowled, plainly recalling the last and only time he'd tried feigning illness while in Hagrid's care; the Groundskeeper was used to looking after animals, and his solicitous scrutiny was absolutely thorough and not anything one ever wished to undergo a second time.
Snape shuddered, and snapped at Lucius, "Hop to it! I have studying to do!"
Lucius, who would never Hop To anything in this life, regarded the upstart with tolerant malice and said, "I think you've forgotten who's in charge here."
"I think I know where you sleep, and when." Snape bared his teeth, which had grown yellowish and uneven from too many samplings of half-finished potions. "And I think running for my life in a sheep paddock in the middle of the night and then having the whole school laughing about it is all the inglorification I care to endure for one week. Get going, or I'll poison your pumpkin juice."
This was the trouble with Too-Clever Minions. "Is that a threat?"
"It's a promise." Snape grinned jaggedly. "Of another dose. But, if you regain my goodwill, I'll give you the antidote."
"And just what will you be doing, in the meanwhile?" Lucius inquired precisely.
Snape displayed a phial of chartreuse liquid, and gulped it down. "I'll be right out of my mind, of course. I told you," he said with a nasty smirk, "I don't plan to endure one minute more of this misery than I have to." His display of teeth widened, too much. "Try to be quick about it, won't you?" he directed expansively, "I'd hate to waste the entire dayyyy-o - "
The deep musical notes which emerged from Snape nebulised his unaccustomed impudence. His face fell and a panicked light kindled in his eyes as he tried again. "Day-ay-ay-o!" He swallowed several times convulsively and came out with, "Detention done an' me want go ho-ome!" His voice had plunged two fathoms and for a brief moment he jerked about like a marionette in the grip of St. Vitus's Dance.
He crossed his arms savagely to control them and managed to say instead of sing, "This is unexpected," still in that same deep velvety voice. Lucius could see the whites of his eyes.
He'd never seen them before. He thought, so this is it I'm going to die.
"Sev," squeaked Lucius timorously, "what the hell did you drink?"
Snape grabbed the spigot and set it gushing. He took a long drink, waited several moment and swallowed several more times before answering in that same sepulchral register, "You tell me."
Oh, God. "What d'you mean?"
"I must have... ingested something... somewhere," Sev mused, and lilted hopefully, "there's a place for us… " He clamped both hands over his mouth and looked alarmedly to Lucius.
Who looked alarmedly back, and considered staging a Strategic Retreat. And then remembered Professor Keele and how with great power comes great responsibility... Lucius tried a bit desperately"D'you feel all right otherwise? You're not going to puke or faint or anything ?"
Sev shook his head. "Don't think so." He took another hefty draught of water, "Only I feel pretty... oh so pretty... "
"No singing!" Lucius commanded.
Snape made a Herculean effort to bestill himself and fished in his cloak, which seemed to have quite a lot of secret pockets sewn into its lining. He extracted a phial of teal liquid and another of lumpy purple stuff, and drank both by turns. "Let's hope that helps. Whatever did I ingest?"
"The Detention breakfast," Lucius supplied, "all in one bowl. Recently, one apple and some pumpkin juice."
Sev shook his head in agitated dismissal. "No, none of those would have such effect." He clenched his teeth and shuddered.
Lucius thought harder and added"Definitely some water... and I should think some mud, and possibly some of that Everkleen stuff."
Snape spun on him and actually grabbed him by the front of the cloak to demand operatically, "Ella's Enchanted Everkleen?"
Lucius with Sinking Heart offered, "That's the one."
Snape used a word that could have melted a cauldron and turned Lucius loose, diving frantically through his cape, halting sharp only when he found the corner bitten away by Incendium in the pasture; he stared at this damage for long moments before murmuring shakily, "Something's going to have a terrific bellyache..."
A bit desperately, Snape tried the other wing of his cloak and after some debate extracted a phial of ruby liquid and drank its contents in one gulp, and shivered, and made a face and gritted, "Let's hope that helps."
Lucius had to ask, "And if it doesn't?"
Snape sighed tightly. "I expect Hagrid'll tie me to a roofbeam, for the safety of all involved. Go on, Luke." He seemed to have lost most of his bluster with this new knowledge. Quietly he sighed, "And take this to one of the lumps, will you be there for me…" He bit his tongue, and leaned tensely against the wall as if he now were waiting to turn inside-out and explOde.
With no better plan in sight, Lucius hefted one of the improved buckets, and then hesitated. Honor and self-preservation demanded that he ask Sev, "Tell me honestly" he glanced reflexively at the rafters, "are we talking better or worse than the, er… Scottish Mishap?"
Both boys quickly turned three times widdershins and spat.
Snape settled haplessly back into his corner and shot Lucius a stormclouded look. "We'll find out."
Lucius hurried out of the stall.
••••••
It took the Marauders, who had diverted their energies to the safer end of the row of stalls where they had found another spigot, twenty minutes to really notice what was going on.
By that time the Slytherins' half of the barn had begun actually sparkling wherever they'd used the mixture Sev had provided.
A further five minutes passed as the three cognizant Gryffindors huddled together, whispering furiously until Black ended the discussion with the ringing decree, "There's no way those anemic toffs know any secrets of scutwork! They're obviously using some kind of potion!"
After this they invited the Slytherins into the discussion. Several accusations and denials were made in quick succession, and then a rather more dynamic debate took place amongst the six boys, resulting in various bruises and scrapes and the upturning of Malfoy's bucket and a very obvious, very clean spot spreading scintillantly across the floorboards
Potter said, "Right, there's your evidence." He collected his own bucket and strode towards the stall wherein Snape was supposedly still having a lie-down; Black followed at his heels. The two of them kicked the door open and stood shoulder to shoulder to block any escape attempt the prisoner might assay.
Potter said, bright as a bared knife, "Hullo, Snape, feeling better?"
Within the stall Snape stood just beyond easy reach, his feet braced and his smirk crooked and a brimful bucket cradled ready in his arms. Its contents were roiling slowly, unloosing bluish steam. "I feel fine!" Snape said, in a voice like wet silk.
Potter blinked, clearly taken aback.
Snape beamed and declaimed in fulsome tones. "And Alexander looked upon the world and wept, because there was nothing left to conquer."
Lucius sniggered quietly at the sight of Potter discomfited, but the Marauder squared his shoulders, resettled his glasses and blustered on in an insufficiently deep voice, "What's in the bucket?"
Snape laughed like a frothing creek, and promised, "Try anything funny and you'll find out."
Malfoy decided that the snatches of song had been supplanted by Episodes of Psychosis. He grabbed his goons by their cloaks and pulled Crabbe and Goyle down behind a haybale, which was insufficient cover; he put the twin lumps in front of him as extra protection and growled exasperatedly, "Remind me if we live to educate him in social interactions other than baiting his intellectual inferiors until they thrash him... "
Potter was explaining with elaborate patience, "-emind you that we are in a barn, Snape... which is chock-full of flammable objects and you'll be in rather a bad position if the whole place catches light."
Black clarified helpfully, "Seeing as you're in this stall with only the one way out."
Snape drawled, "In which case I certainly wouldn't use incendiary ingredients. Congratulations on realizing the obvious." He grinned like a lightningstrike, and chuckled to himself, "Which returns us to the question: Whatever could it be in this bucket, I wonder?"
Potter laughed. "So you don't know, either."
"Yes I do!" Snape glared at him and took half a step forward, then halted abruptly as the bucket slopped onto his boots.
Black, watching attentively, muttered, "Doesn't affect leather, doesn't affect hay, doesn't affect horseshit..."
Potter added, "Doesn't affect wood, look at the bucket- doesn't affect iron, the banding's intact."
Snape interrupted sharp as tacks, "Oh, but wait 'til you see what it does to meddlesome idiots!"
"Should you be holding that?" Black inquired solicitously.
Snape snapped, "I made it! I am in control here!"
"...sure..." soothed Potter.
"Very sure!" Snape asserted. He glared up at his nemeses, licked his lips, nodded faintly to himself and pronounced, "Now. You and your pack of fools will recommence cleansing the rest of the barn, beginning with the remainder of 'our' half, quickly and quietly... or this will go all over one of you, and I guarantee you'll not soon recover."
Potter inquired, "And just how will you explain to Hagrid why your lot aren't working?"
Snape laughed. "Naturally that's the result of our superior intellects and judicious allocation of resources."
Black said, "And you think Hagrid's going to understand that?"
Snape repeated, "We're dead clever and we work fast. Now get going!"
Potter conceded, "All right! All right, Snape, you've made everything crystal clear, thanks, only..."
"...only what" Snape demanded, looking vexed.
"Only if we used your Cleansing Concoction," Potter reasoned, "we'd be done in a twinkling, "as evidenced literally by the scrubbed portions of the room, "and we could all get back to the castle well before dinnertime."
Black added, "It only makes sense, Snape."
Potter nodded. "'Judicious allocation of resources,' isn't it? And your potion works really well, everyone can see that. Your results are excellent."
Black agreed, "First rate! I mean, look, the wood's glowing and the hinges are gleaming!"
Potter jumped in again, "All really splendid, Snape... so, come on, help us all out, will you? Please?" he added heavily, shifting his bucket wearily. "If we just get this detention over with, so we can go back to hating one another in peace. We won't even watch while you prepare your secret potion."
"Think about it, Snape," Black added. "Every bucket you dose for us is probably worth a half hour's time for you to mess about in the Potions lab. I'm sure Jenny Goldberg's been there all day."
Potter volunteered bravely. "Here, you can start with mine." He held out his bucket.
Snape conceded, "All right, let me have it."
Lucius ducked.
Crabbe and Goyle piled on top of him.
There came a strangely heavy splattering, followed immediately by the long-awaited outraged shrieking and Black's gleeful cries of, "Come on come on!" as the Slytherins flattened themselves to the floor behind their haybale.
Pettigrew landed heavily beside them, and knelt up to peer over the bale. He laughed like a nuthatch, and announced giddily, "Brilliant, he's all over horseshit!"
A too familiar burbling heralded what could only be the geyserlike explosion of the bucket Snape had been holding. There followed a spluttering yowl, and a rich, earthy scent with a hint of bacon tinged the air.
Teeth clenched, Lucius heaved himself sideways so he could peek 'round the corner of the haybale and view the latest debacle.
Snape stood dripping and trembling like a prom queen doused in pigs' blood, which would have been better than his current coating of sludgy green ichor. His dark eyes glittered like a cobra's and his jaws worked convulsively as if he were searching for words or something to bite.
Atop another haybale, Potter and Black were congratulating one another and grinning as if they'd just been given a marvelous new toy.
Murder was welling up in Snape's eyes. He took one jerky step forward, then another, slipped, caught his balance and staggered like a wine-drenched wasp towards his tormentors.
Potter watched attentively, commenting to his companion, "The thing is, Sirius, he made up that potion, and so actually he used magic first... and then he threatened us with it... "
"Yes, he did," Black agreed loyally.
Potter nodded as Snape slurched closer. "And a Prefect agrees that he's unbalanced, all of which makes this self-defense!" He whipped a wand out of his sleeve, aimed it right between Snape's wide, horrorglazed eyes, and cried, "Lemniscintillite!"