Forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty, fifty-one, fifty-two, add snap-gryphon pollen, raise heat, wait for fine mist to form above the surface, there it is, reduce heat, begin again, anticlockwise this time. One, two, three, four, five…

Severus doubted that he had ever paid such close attention to a potion for such a long period. It was highly satisfying to have to be so focussed on a task, he doubted whether an set of rabid manticores in rut rampaging through Kappa Block could have distracted him for more than a few seconds from the exciting task in hand. It was also novel to be making something more important than just a study project. Should he successfully complete this particular brew, it would have instant and rewarding consequences.

Thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six…

Lucius would be delighted if he managed to pull this off, and it would be a complete vindication for Severus. It had taken him a few weeks to persuade his older lover that supporting him until he achieved Bronze Standard at the Institute of Master Potioners would be worth it, Malfoy had terribly old-fashioned ideas about the keeping of concubines. The fights had been ugly. Particularly following suggestions of flower-arranging and needlework to pass the time between visits from his lord. The impudence of it! Damnable aristocrats had traditions to govern every imaginable aspect of life. Well, fond as he was of the Malfoy power and influence, and emotionally attached to that manipulative demon in angel's form, Severus was not about to be ordered around. Not outside of the bedroom, at least. He had pleaded, yelled, poisoned, slapped, wheedled, ordered, stamped his foot, withheld extra-marital relations and threatened to sell his story to the Daily Prophet, all to no avail. Lucius only relented and paid his fees when Severus apparated in the drawing-room with their, er, personal photo album tucked under his arm while Mrs. Malfoy (Senior) was taking afternoon tea with her son.

"Ah, Mr. Snape, isn't it? I used to play gobstones with your mother. And what's this? Pictures? How delightful. Let's take a peek." She reached over to take the album from Severus' unresisting hands. Neither had seen Lucius move so fast in his life. Before her fingers had even brushed the leather, there was a huge bag of gold in the younger wizard's pocket.

"It's all right, Mother," he grabbed Severus by the scruff of his neck and pushed him towards the fireplace. "Mr. Snape just came to collect his tuition fees for his studies at the IMP. He's in a frightful hurry, actually, must be leaving right away."

"Oh you're sponsoring the boy? What a good idea! How generous of you, dear."

"Mmm," went Lucius, grinding his teeth.

Fifty, fifty-one, fifty-two, fifty-three, add essence of bogwappit, take evasive action, (BOOM!), check temperature of explosion-residue, good, begin again, clockwise. One, two, three…

He was very fortunate to have Lucius in his life. A bit of argument or manipulation could bring him everything he desired, seldom with any serious consequences. He remembered that afternoon vividly – upon leaving the drawing-room, he had apparated straight to Salisbury Plain and dumped the large bag of money and a copy of his unconditional acceptance letter on the bursary desk, grinning broadly as the bursar's secretary put a tick in the box next to his name and welcomed him to the Institute.

Arriving back at his flat, he saw that Malfoy had arrived before him - as holder of the deeds he was the only other person free to come and go at will into the home he had bought for Severus. Once again he was grateful that Lucius' temper, though explosive, never lasted for long.

The first blow sent him flying across the room. The second and third were little more than slaps, as Malfoy's anger evaporated into mild irritation. He caught the hand before a fourth blow could fall, pulling the blond wizard down onto the floor next to him.

"You devious little shit," snapped Lucius, already reaching for his wand to heal the swelling on the other's cheek.

"The IMP only accept the best," he reasoned, wincing slightly as Malfoy's fingers brushed over the bruise. "You cannot let my talent go to waste. The Dark Lord needs a potions expert, even if you do not."

Lucius sulked for a little while, before accepting the cup of tea which was offered, from the divine Georgian tea-set he had bought for his lover at Christoby's the previous week. He just had time to grudgingly admit that a mind as sharp and ruthless as Snape's should probably be kept busy at all times, before he felt a curious churning in his lower intestines. Severus was watching him closely. Too closely, he realised in alarm.

"You…" he began, but was cut off by the desperate need to dash to the bathroom.

Snape consulted his little silver stop-watch and made a note in his potions journal. That must surely be his fastest-acting laxative yet. He may not mind the occasional beating, but that didn't mean he wouldn't retaliate. He was a Slytherin too, after all.

Fifty-two, fifty-three, fifty-four, remove from heat, cover immediately, leave to cool. Well, there it was. The darkest and potentially the most powerful potion he had ever brewed, sitting innocently on the bench in front of him.

He had headed for the Insitute library as soon as Lucius had told him that there was no hope of Narcissa ever bearing a child. He began to discuss divorce and the search for another suitable wife, which did not suit Severus at all. Narcissa was perfectly content to accompany her husband in public and allow him to play at domesticity with his male concubine in private, asking no questions about how he spent his time, as long as she had free reign over the house and money. She had subtle taste and though clearly enjoying her husband's riches, she was never extravagant. In fact, the perfect wife for a man like Lucius.

Her replacement might not be so easygoing. She could well take offence at her husband's 'deviance' and cause big trouble for her rival. He knew his hold over Lucius would withstand any number of storms, but nevertheless Severus worried about losing his position. He could cope perfectly well on his own, as he had before, but was in no hurry to lose the wealth and comfort he had acquired since securing his place in Malfoy's affections.

Unqualified students were technically not allowed in the restricted section, but certain favours for the librarian gained him full access within minutes. After a week's frantic searching, he found what he was looking for. An ancient, dark fertility draught – tricky to brew, dangerous and illegal, of course. Lucius funded all the expensive ingredients, without knowing why, as Severus did not want to raise his hopes only to disappoint him. There was no guarantee the concoction would work, even if he managed to get it right.

When the potion has reached room temperature, it is ready for testing. The only way to ascertain it's efficiency is by internal consumption. If the tester is left with an aftertaste of rhubarb and custard, then the potion has worked. If no rhubarb and custard can be tasted, the potion is useless and the consumer will suffer violent sickness until his stomach in empty. NB The successful potion will enable the most barren of witches to conceive safely. Any wizard or warlock testing the brew, successful or unsuccessful, will suffer no ill effects.

Severus raised the goblet to his lips and deftly swallowed a generous measure, bracing himself for projectile vomiting. A kaleidoscope of bizarre flavours fizzled across his tongue and down his throat, so intense that he staggered and clutched the edge of the laboratory bench to support his trembling knees. The experience churned on for an interminable ten minutes before it stopped abruptly. Snape swallowed carefully, wondering what would happen next. He gripped the edge of the tin bucket as something erupted in his oesophagus.

The belch was almost deafening. Severus could not hold back a smile as he covered his mouth, remembering the day at school when he had hit Potter with a whirling-wind jinx, and the loud burping had been the least of the Griffindor's worries.

Back in the present, his smile turned into a laugh as the taste of juicy rhubarb and creamy custard flooded his mouth. Clearly, he was a genius. It worked!

…….

A/N: Or does it? Mwhahahah. I'm having fun here!

Thanks so much for the reviews, folks! I know the first chapter was not the most exciting, but you still left me a nice set of 'encouragements'! You sweethearts.

PS: A little bit of domestic violence there – sorry if that offends - but I'm sure you'll agree that our little hook-nosed hero can give as good as he gets x