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Chapter 11 – Research and Development

"Mum! Dad!"

The bushy and unkempt mane of Hermione Granger appeared in the kitchen lit by the evening sun. Her eyes, while barely visible, were alit with a fever they hadn't seen there recently. Hermione Granger had made a discovery by herself. Judging by the sheer amount of books that she read, especially this summer, that has to be a groundbreaking one. Books were everywhere. The most important ones, which content and danger level were similar to the ones in Hogwarts' Library Restricted Section, were in her room. But others also littered the living room, the kitchen even had a few tomes scattered on the table, some were stored in the garage, and even their own bedroom had a shelf with her old muggle books. The Grangers generally doted on their usually calm and collected only girl, but they had felt pushed to stay home instead of going abroad, and to switch to a smaller car, to provide her with the more and more expensive tomes she needed. These books they bought were not even the only ones she read. She had an agreement with her Head of House to borrow books from Hogwarts' Library during summer. When Minerva McGonagall had told her this at Harry's burial, smiling at the face of the happy teenager, she hadn't considered that is was the same as removing speed limits and putting a kid her age in a sport car.

Hermione Granger was in grave danger of overburn. She seldom ate anymore, and only at her desk, and she rarely slept. The rare discussions her parents tried to have with her had been uneasy and generally cut short because she always left the room or buried herself in a book, not paying attention to her surroundings.

Her shopping spree, on the beginning of the summer, had been the only really happy memory recently. The logic part of her mind was working during the day but, at nights, she was plagued with emotional nightmares, ranging from Harry's death in an inferno to her friends Ron and Ginny pointing to her and blankly declaring that it was her fault, because she hadn't studied enough, and that she wasn't worth their friendship. She couldn't cope with these, so, on top of working to the brink of exhaustion during the day, she couldn't sleep for more that two hours in one go. Needless to say, her parents were not happy anymore about their daughter's dedication, rather very worried and afraid.

That's in this condition that she thrown herself to her mom's and dad's necks, crushing them into the bear hug she had practised with Harry and Ron. She opened her mouth to tell them something, supposedly trying to explain her new discovery, but her face went slack, eyes overturned until showing their whites, and she collapsed. Jane Granger immediately crouched next the crumpled form of her daughter and, after trying to wake her unsuccessfully, they carried her to the living room, where they deposited her in the couch. Then, they retrieved the Notifier, a device furnished by the school to each muggleborn family in case of an emergency. Looking at each other's apprehensive eyes, then at the prone form of their daughter, they silently pressed the button together.

That button activated an observation mechanism in Hogwarts, precisely in McGonagall's new office; that is, the Headmaster suite. And, as luck would have it, she was still up and about, signing miscellaneous forms and reports. Frowning at the device, she inspected its output and noticed the familiar name on it. Rising in alarm, she prepared herself to go there, but, looking back towards the desk, noticed the huge workload. At the same moment, a knock was heard on the door, and Severus Snape entered the room.

"Minerva."

"Severus."

A silence.

"Well, Severus, if you wanted to tell me a bedtime story, I'd have agreed, but I'm taken with that stuff, and I've just been called for an emergency."

"Well, I had to discuss with you, as Headmistress, about Lucius' proclaimed death of young Draco, but that can wait. If you are asked..."

He started towards the door, when his colleague called him back. "Actually, Severus, you know I'm deep into this," she waved at her desk, "and I wondered if you had some time to assist me."

"Assist you?"

"As temporary Deputy Headmaster, until Albus comes back."

A pause, then the Potion Master answered. "I'd like to, but not in the open. And, being also Hogwarts' Potion Master and Professor, I have very little time. I also happen to have some... external activities... that you know of, naturally."

"Naturally." Being Deputy Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall had been allowed in the very small circle of people knowing the spying activity of Severus Snape concerning Voldemort. "If you have some time right now, I received a call from the Grangers' Notifier."

Snape's eyebrows rose and, after reflecting for a moment, he nodded and apparated away. Satisfied of her new Deputy Headmaster, but sighing at her remaining work, the Headmistress-in-interim went back to the desk and took the ornate quill back in hand.

Severus Snape, upon arriving in the Grangers' living room, looked around with his wand raised, in case the Notifier was used because of an attack. Looking down towards the occupied couch, he was struck to see the two distressed parents holding the unconscious, pale, and emaciated body of their daughter.

"I'm Professor Snape," he says, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Mrs Granger. "What happened?"

While they recounted their daughter's frenzy, Snape cast some Healer basic diagnostics spells. The result made him frown, but he wasn't a Healer himself, and she had to see one as soon as possible. He was surprised, though, at the length someone would go to study more. As a researcher himself, if he had had the time, he would have explored her room and her current research topics and ideas, but it wasn't the most important now, and it was also not very polite.

"I'm sorry," he announced, "but she's so weak that I'll have to bring her to the hospital. I'll be back in an hour to explain more."

Acknowledging the Grangers' distressed acceptance, he grabbed the prone form of Hermione and, knowing that the fireplace was connected to the Floo network, threw some Floo powder in it while uttering "St Mungo!"

As he entered the green flames, he couldn't see the frightened look that the Grangers threw to each other.

At the same time, in a dark mansion...

Two figures could be seen in the darkened room. One was portly, even if his face was ashen and his eyes crimson, and the other was blond and tall, and kneeling in front of the first.

"Now rise, and meet your destiny!"

The blond one rose to his feet, his face blank, before the other continued.

"You are to meet the others at your father's Manor, and proceed as I told you."

"Yes, master. Thank you, master."

"Go now."

And the blond left. A short time afterwards, a hidden black-haired woman left the shadows, and the man's shrill laugh echoed in the room.

"You've done well, Narcissa. Our young Draco is very... mature, now."

One hour and a half later...

She had told them about her friends. She had told them about her school. And she had told them about her professors. That's why they knew that something very bad had happened. Severus Snape was late. They had already decided to cancel their appointments for the next day, hoping to visit her and also that her condition wasn't so bad that she'd require a long stay at the hospital. When they heard the distinctive pop of a wizard magically appearing in their living room again, they jumped on their feet and practically drowned the person under questions, until they notice that it wasn't the black-clad Potion Master. It was a person in a white gown, like generally used in hospitals, and St Mungo was having the same traditions than the muggle hospitals in that respect.

"What happened?"

"Where is she?"

"Who are you?"

"Where is the Poison Professor?"

Smiling a little at the wrong qualification given to Severus Snape, the witch presented herself as Marge Hopkins, and tried to explain the situation to the distraught parents. It appeared that St Mungo was largely understaffed at the moment, and several persons arrived at the same time. The potion supplies being low, they had to ask him to prepare a few batch. Then he got called by a Ministry agent to solve other problems. Being the most qualified Potion Master around, he was queried by many and didn't have time to answer to all. But the Grangers could go there to visit their daughter, and that was almost all that was important. The witch handed them a staff, and asked to take a firm hold on it. As soon as that was done, she spoke the activation word and they portkeyed to St Mungo.

Upon arriving there, though, the witch got serious and they took each other's hand while she pushed them in an isolated room. There, she started to explain that Hermione seemed to have depleted not only her physical resources, but her magical ones, too. She had really been close to death and, until she refilled herself in both, she wasn't to leave the place. Seeing their stunned faces, she explained that when people weren't eating or sleeping, as it was apparent Hermione did, their physical resources were lowered, but the person could stay alive for a long time, living on their magical reserve. As it appeared, Hermione must have had a large one, but too much exhaustion took away most of it. And it couldn't be healed by magical ways. She had to wait for it to refill naturally, avoiding magic as much as possible.

Her face darkening, Marge also asked if Hermione knew some people named Harry and Ron. While intrigued about the relation between her face and the question, the Grangers explained the circumstances to her, and she nodded. It also appeared that, when asleep or even unconscious, she was having strong nightmares about them. That caused several problems, the foremost being that, as Hermione hadn't had a proper night's sleep for a long time, her subconscious appeared damaged, and the nightmares were now preventing her proper recovery. Unless they gave her a large amount of Dreamless Sleep Draught, she wouldn't be able to heal. They had to ask the Grangers' approval because, given the dose Hermione needed, she was going to be addicted to it after her full recovery.

The Grangers didn't know anything about magical diseases and addictions, but, after confirming they didn't have any choice, they accepted and signed the form, tears flowing freely on both their faces and on the paper.

The same evening, the Minister's office...

"Ah, good evening, my friend."

Seeing the tired frame of Albus Dumbledore, Severus decided to forego an explanation of Hermione's state, and answered "As good as it gets, Headmaster. Or should I call you Minister?"

"Well, you know the election results? I'm going to be back to Headmaster status soon, you know. Perhaps even less, if Lucius has his ways. Tomorrow is going to be a bad day. You know Lucius, Severus, and the semi-official program he sent to everyone isn't gentle at all."

"What do you need of me?"

"Straight to the point, as always, Severus. When you'll be older, you'll notice that sometimes, merely speaking about things can achieve great goals." He shuddered, and gathered himself. "Still, you are right. We don't have much time, and I need your help desperately."

"Desperately, Headmaster?" Snape, after so many years of calling Albus Dumbledore that way, wasn't to change that quickly, especially as the switch was temporary.

"I have had no time to sort my memories recently, Severus, and something annoys me concerning Malfoy. I'm dead tired right now. Can you sift through them during my sleep?"

Severus Snape was astonished. The most powerful wizard alive was asking to get into his mind, to fetch information? He nodded, thoughtful. The possibilities were endless...

Noticing the glint in his Potion Master's eyes, Albus chuckled softly. "I'd advise you to concentrate on Malfoy and how to stop him. We have only the night, and if you go astray, you'll find so many memories of useless actions and facts that you'll get lost. Why do you think I need your help?"

Ashamed at being discovered, but ready for the ordeal, Severus took his wand out and waited, as Albus Dumbledore transfigured his chair into a comfortable bed and went to sleep. No more than five minutes afterwards, the old man was asleep and his friend was sitting next to him, his body rigid as he was sifting through more than 150 years of memories.

The same evening, again, at the Burrow...

"Mrs Weasley! Mrs Weasley!"

Molly arrived in the living room, wiping her hands on her apron, called by a voice she didn't know. There, on the carpet, lied the unconscious form of her daughter and, around her stood Ron and his friends Dean and Seamus, visibly tired.

"What happened?" she demanded, while carrying Ginny on the couch.

Dean hesitantly began "Well, we wanted to amuse Ron a little, so we prepared a day to visit some muggles funny activities, like the movies or the arcade rooms. He seemed to appreciate some of the things, because I saw him smile on the occasion."

"When we arrived at the funfair," Seamus continued, "Ron noticed a girl that looked a lot like Ginny, and that got our attention." At this, Molly looked at them inquiringly, but let them continue. "We didn't have time to ask her name or whatever, because Ron had already left for another show. We took a ride through the horror train ride. Nothing scary, really, even if some youth talked about a really good monster."

"There, Ron and Ginny took a cart, and we took the next. The only thing we know, when we get out of the ride, is that Ginny is unconscious. The show keeper told us that, apparently, she yelled something before collapsing. Ron didn't say anything, but he appeared... I don't know, I don't understand him anymore. I'd say he looked smug, or even satisfied. But I don't understand why."

"Thank you, boys. Thanks for bringing her back. I'll deal with her now. Do you want to stay over dinner?"

"No, thanks, madam. My parents are already anxious and they are waiting for us to return. Can we?"

"Sure, young men. Have a good time before classes."

"Thanks madam, goodbye. Bye Ron."

The boys gone, Molly Weasley fetched her wand from the kitchen and, thinking about the uselessness of a global outlawing of underage magic, directed it to her daughter, and muttered "enervate."

Ginny's head shot up and around, looking afraid and lost. Seeing her mother, she went to cry on her shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably. A long time afterwards, the women separated, the young one having fallen asleep without success in explaining her collapse, from which she appeared not to have any memory. Ron had fallen asleep also, lying backwards on the recliner and, seeing his happy face, Molly didn't have the nerve to scold him.

Still the same evening, Grace's guest bedroom...

"Hello, sleepyhead."

Gabriel's head shot up, right eye wide open, to the shocked gasp of the people present. Joan and Grace had known Gabriel for a while, but his eye was different now. Different, and afraid. He began to recoil from them.

Grace was the first to react to the panicked youth. "Relax. We're here for you, Gabriel, remember?" Joan merely nodded at this.

The soothing words uttered by the woman, and the girl from whose face he couldn't detach his gaze, finally got to him. His question, though, surprised them.

"Where am I?"

After a time, Grace began explaining to the questioning teen. "You are at home, in my guest room. Your room since two months ago, actually. We think you had an accident at some point. I swear, it's the last time you play the fool in there. I don't want your blood on my hands, young man!" She scolded him, unaware that her sentence met only incomprehension from him, and continued. "When that girl got out, screaming, I knew something had arrived. I mean, it's pretty common to scream inside a ghost ride, but outside?" Turning towards the girl next to her, she asked. "Did you notice her, Joan? She looked like you a lot."

When Joan shook her head negatively, Grace continued. "Well... I paused the ride and got someone to fetch Michael so that he got you and brought you here. The girl who screamed had already been escorted outside by her friends, to be healed, they said. She seemed really shaken. That's quite all. Now, can you tell us what happened?"

The teen on the bed, whose eye wasn't crimson anymore, but a light brown, seemed to be thinking, hard. Timidly, he then raised his head, and spoke. What came from his mouth, though, wasn't quite what they expected.

"What did you say my name was, again?"

The next morning, at the Burrow...

"Ron! RON!"

"Hmm? What?"

Molly Weasley, mother of a brood of seven, was at a loss about her sixth. Ronald Weasley had never been detached from the world, before. Not that much, and not at all anyway. The summer had passed quickly, because she still had five children to take care of, not counting her husband deeply in political problems. But she didn't understand Ron's state of mind and had to push him towards the fireplace where the twins and Ginny were waiting for them, ready to go to Diagon Alley for day of shopping.

Ron was oblivious to everything. Even the owl he got from the Ministry, the Service of Underage Magic warning him not to cast a spell again or he'd be expelled, hadn't affected him. It had affected his other family members, though. Ginny had been furious again. Molly, while trying to placate Ginny and after having confiscated Ron's wand to avoid any accident, wasn't pleased at the Ministry's insistence. The twins complotted as usual. And her husband didn't have time to discuss about it.

In fact, Arthur seldom had time for his family recently. That very morning, he had left for the Ministry in the wee hours of the morning, to 'help Dumbledore sort things', as he told an anguished Molly. Truth be told, all Weasley were afraid of Malfoy being Minister of Magic. They were sure that, once that was done, they would be the first target of unjust laws and procedures. Still, they couldn't go against the people's will, could they? Still, the simple fact that Arthur went to work with something like trepidation in his eyes was a sign that hope wasn't lost. Yet.

Sighing, Molly pushed Ron through the green flames to the Leaky Cauldron, and followed, wary of not tripping on her own son once they arrived. Once there, they didn't separate as they usually did the previous years. They stayed as a red-headed group, and the sombre stares from the twins discouraged anyone to make fun of the dreamy Ron.

Not everybody made fun of him, though. Some were simply oblivious. And one person appeared to be very interested in Ron's attitude. However, once Ginny heard the voice, she couldn't help but wince, before turning around to watch the exchange.

"Hi, Ron."

"Hi, Luna."

"Seen the double-horned cantwyrms around town?"

"Why, yes! They are hungry today."

"Not like three days ago, the earth got angry."

"Of course. Still, I wouldn't want to be caught unprepared."

"Neither do I. I'm going to the apothecary, by the way."

"Take a bag of toothless berries, we'll need some this year."

"Sure. It had been a pleasure."

"Same here, see you on the Express."

And they separated. During the entire conversation, the whole Weasley family had had their jaws hanging. That was the first real discussion Ron had with anybody since he fell in his distant state. Well, if the wistful chit-chat could be understood as a discussion. Ginny especially was upset, because she knew how the Ravenclaws generally treated Luna, hiding her stuff and mocking her, and she didn't want that sort of things happening to her brother. After a little time, when they all got hold of themselves, they finished the indicated school shopping and returned home. Ron was as silent and dreamy as before, but now, Ginny started to understand how to manage him.

"Did you notice the Grim?" Ron's tone of voice and question surprised everyone, again, as they flooed back in their living room.

"Oh, Ron, don't say those things, it's awful!" Molly sounded distressed. Seeing a Grim, in the wizarding literature, was a sure sign that death was near. Only a few people joked about that, and most of them were mad. Still, in Ron's state...

Ginny took the problem in her hands. "Don't worry, mum, it's one of his crisis again. Go to the kitchen and prepare some tea. I'll handle him. Don't worry, he'll forget."

As she left the room, Molly still heard the first words of his son, and shivered.

"I saw him in Knockturn All..."

And, as surprising as it seems, that was true. In the shadows of Knockturn Alley, and in the darkest recesses of Diagon Alley, a large and black animal had been watching them all the time.

Earlier the same morning, in the Minister's office...

Albus Dumbledore had passed a surprisingly good night, and was feeling refreshed when he woke up early that day. The first thing to come to his generally well-organized mind, though, beside a lemon candy, was the crumpled form of Severus Snape at the foot of his bed. Frowning, and remembering what was at stake, he started to feel a dread filling him at his friend possible failure.

Getting on his feet, he went to the lying body of his preferred spy, and was relieved to find that he was only sleeping soundly. Conjuring a platter of breakfast food and tea, he proceeded to wake his friend.

Standing painfully and stretching before sitting on a comfortable chair, Severus gladly took the proffered tea, refusing the scones. They stayed like this in companionable silence, both sorting their thoughts from their newly-awaken state. The door opened and closed, letting the red-haired frame of Arthur Weasley pass through. That made them both look towards the new room occupant.

As only explanation, he shrugged, throwing a glance at the clock that rested on the mantelpiece of the office's fireplace, and muttered "I couldn't sleep anymore."

"It's okay, Arthur." Dumbledore answered, Snape seeming in thoughts. "We hadn't started yet, still in the shores of sleep." Turning towards the Potion Master, he asked the fateful question.

"So, Severus, what did you find?"

After another silence, gathering his thoughts, he answered. "You were right, Albus." He stopped at his familiarity for a second, and then reflected that he shared the thoughts of the aged Headmaster, and that it was something that would allow a little more ease in his future chats with the old man.

"Right? I'm often right, Severus." The surprised face Dumbledore made was now replaced by a benign one.

"...when you said that you had too many memories. I spent a good part of the night trying to figure your mind's sorting methods. I'm sure that, even when I was sleeping after that, I got nightmares of it."

Seeing the anxious faces of his listeners, Snape chose to stop trying to make jokes and cut to the subject at hand. "Still, I found some things. Remember what Malfoy's house-elf told us? Well, you had a discussion with Harry, and..." once again, Severus Snape stopped, surprised with the ease with which he called Harry Potter by his given name instead of his family name as usual. Frowning, he reflected that he would have serious mind re-sorting to do before the start of term, to avoid acting like Dumbledore and making a fool of himself in front of his students.

"And?" Arthur asked, on tenterhooks.

"And he told you that shelves fell on Lucius, and these were heavy shelves. Harry... got himself seriously hurt and almost died, weren't it for the house-elf. Besides, young Draco was called back to his Manor some time afterwards. You remember? Around a week before the end of term."

"I do."

"When Lucius Malfoy reappeared recently, and wrote in every available paper that his son was dead, that got me thinking. Tell me, Albus, what do we know about the boy's death?"

"Almost..."

"...nothing, right." Snape was launched, and he wasn't to stop before reaching his conclusion. In that regard, he was like an embodied thought train and, oddly, it reminded Arthur of a particular girl that his sixth son got to know.

"So, on one side we have Lucius Malfoy, who we don't know the health of, but that should be badly hurt. On the other, his son, supposedly dead and buried. And now, a strutting Lucius Malfoy is running for Minister. Successfully." A pause. "Tell me, Albus, would you consider normal if a godfather wasn't to be invited to his godson's burial?"

"Errm..." the others were thrown off course by the non-sequitur. Albus, thinking about the last burial they went to, asked "You mean, about Sirius Black not present to Harry's..."

"No!" Snape was shocked. How could the Headmaster associate him to the flea-bitten mutt? "No, I was thinking about Draco and me. He is my godson, didn't you know?"

"Oh! I remember, now. True. And you weren't invited? Nor told about it?"

"Exactly. Strange circumstances of I may add." Snape considered Dumbledore for a moment, and then continued. "Albus, you had a weird thought floating in your head at one point. Perhaps your subconscious was forming suggestions for me while I explored. Well... you seemed to think that Lucius was dead, and his son was replacing him, acting like him."

Albus' eyes went wide, while Arthur looked intrigued. "What do you mean? He's 12; he can't replace his father like that."

"Actually he can, Arthur." Snape explained patiently. "As a Potion Master, I might have taught him some interesting and extra-curricular potions. As I recall, one of them was an Aging Elixir. Properly brewed and ingested, it could cause the person to physically age any number of years. And Draco physically resembled his father very much already, so I guess the only obstacle before totally becoming his father would be his mind."

"What do you mean?"

"It's like the post owls' internal compass. Someone can't be appointed Minister or any other high-ranking Ministry position without subjecting to a test, in the form of drinking a potion before answering a few questions. The draught that has to be ingested is a mild truth serum, associated with a counter to any form of mind domination spell like the Imperius, and the person has to give his or her full name. In the case where our little theory holds true, if Draco's mind isn't tampered with, the potion will make him states a wrong name and he wouldn't be elected. So his mind must have been altered."

"This seems difficult to do, though, massively tampering a mind like this..."

"I agree with you, Arthur." Albus intervened. "But it has been done in History already. Remember the story of the Three Mad Sisters?" The three men stopped talking for a minute, remembering the two sisters who had to successively take the place of the assassinated third, and who had, to do so, altered their minds to the point of madness.

"He may become mad, then?"

"It's a possibility. But, once elected, it won't be a problem for him anymore. Voldemort would take over quickly, and he will be only remembered as the in-between that caused the Dark Lord to gain hold of the Ministry."

"If this is the case, what can we do?"

Always organized, Snape took the direction again. "First, we have to discover if our theory is correct. I knew Lucius pretty well, I could ask him some innocent question when he'll come in the Ministry in..." he looked at the clock, "...three hours. Either Lucius or Draco would make a grand entrance, possibly using the main atrium. I'll wait him there and ask the question, which only the real Lucius would know the answer to. If he answers correctly, it's the real one and, short to an assassination right there, we can't really prevent him from gaining the position. If he doesn't answer correctly, it will be Draco and we can act on that."

"How can we react?" Arthur, while being fairly clever and resourceful, didn't have the tortuous mind of the Potion Master, or the century-and-a-half experience of the Headmaster.

Not answering him directly, Severus Snape asked. "Do you remember the potion that was forbidden 62 years ago, Albus? The Mind Expanding Draught?"

"Hmm... vaguely, yes. It was invented by a madman who wanted to become a genius?"

"He was already a genius, even if deranged, so it wasn't the problem. The potion was forbidden because of one of its ingredients. It's absolutely forbidden to get the blood of a unicorn for any potion, anywhere, nowadays. I'm not complaining, but as a Potion Master, I'd know that there are no good substitution ingredients to that."

"And?" both were interested now.

"You remember Harry's hideous discovery, last year, in the Forbidden Forest?"

"He saw a... Oh!" Albus was aghast at his friend's implication. "You didn't!"

"I couldn't refrain myself, Headmaster. Besides, the creature was already dead. I preferred to harvest the few drops I could, instead of letting it waste to the soil. I was found out by the centaurs, though, and barely escaped." He smiled grimly, raising his robe and left pant leg to show an ugly scar.

"Ahem... would you mind explaining? I was not there..." Arthur was, once again, left after in the conversation.

"He took... some Unicorn Blood, from a dead unicorn that Voldemort killed." Albus breathed.

A silence.

Arthur spoke up. "So, that means that you can make the potion? Speaking of which, what does it do?"

"The mad genius got the potion recipe wrong. In fact he became mad and genius following an earlier and totally unrecorded experiment by Grindewald... sorry, Albus." Snape added towards the wincing old man, who had had a large part in said Dark Lord Grindewald demise, a few decades before. "And the potion he made merely restored his initial mind, so in fact, he lost his genius, and didn't invent any other potion or anything else. The potion should have been named Mind Restoring Draught."

A silence, while Albus and Arthur look at each other with the same spark in their eyes, before turning to the nervous Potion Master. "Severus?" Albus started.

"Yes?"

"How many doses of that draught can you make with your stock of unicorn blood?"

"Errm... if I recall correctly, only four drops would be needed for a small-sized cauldron, and that would make... after evaporation... errr... two doses. And I have around twenty drops of blood."

"Do you think it would be possible to cure the Longbottoms?"

A surprised Potion Master looked between his old Headmaster and the redhead in wonder, trying to collect himself.

"Well... if the potion works, it could be possible. But we have to find if it works first."

"Don't you think that, without taking Frank or Alice for guinea pigs, uncovering Draco Malfoy would be more important?" Arthur asked.

"Hmmm... you're right, I guess. All right, I'll make the thing. I'll even make two batches at the same time, as it takes the same duration, and we'll have spares in case a bottle breaks at one point. I have just the time, so I'll go now. I'll be back in two hours."

Before Snape left, though, Arthur asked another question. "And how are we going to make Malfoy drink it?"

"Remember," answered Dumbledore, "the would-be Minister has to drink a mild truth serum at some point. We'll mix the two draughts, won't we, Severus?"

Reflecting for a minute, the Potion Master nodded, absentmindedly saying "The ingredients of both aren't in opposition, either directly or indirectly. They won't cancel each other and should work together too."

"Should?"

"Well, for each potion, even masterfully brewed, there is always a slight risk of error. My goal, as a Potion Master, is to reduce that risk near to zero."

"You could say that to your students, Severus, they wouldn't be that afraid afterwards."

"Please don't joke about that, Albus; you'd kill me before my time. Whatever, I'll be going now. I'll be in two hours in St Mungo, near the Longbottoms. Don't come, as I don't want everyone's eyes looking towards the ward where the current Minister-in-interim and most-powerful-wizard-of-his-time goes." Ignoring said Minister's chuckles, he kept going. "I'll come back here later to tell you. The potion should work in five minutes... Oh! And, Albus..."

"Yes?"

"If it works on Longbottom, I'll have to treat both at some point, and I'll certainly have to hide that from St Mungo's officials... you'll have to have a chat with them. Furthermore, if it restores the mind, my guess is that they won't recognize their son anyway. For them he would only be one year old."

The old Headmaster nodded, agreeing, and the Potion Master apparated away.

Albus and Arthur stayed a long moment looking at the advancing hands of the clock, before one of them speak again.

"Albus?"

"Yes, Arthur?"

"Do you think it will work?"

"It should... it's our only hope."

Another long moment of thoughtful clock-watching after which...

"Albus?"

"Hmm?"

"If it works, what are we going to do? Who will be Minister?"

Not having thought about that, Albus reflected for a moment, looking at the fire, before turning back towards his friend, wide-eyed.

"That would be the next-in-line in the votes, Arthur. Legally, that would be you."

To be continued in next chapter: Hunting the Truth...

Are they wrong or are they right?
Will they get their minds alright?
Review, and I promise that
I'll quickly post the next part.