Disclaimer: JKR...not mine. Got it?

Warning: Follow the butterflies...OF DOOM (towards the Mary Sue of DEATH).

Chapter Seventeen: And Consequences Be Damned

I stood there for what must have been several minutes covered in goo with chunks of vomit clinging to the edge of my robes. The smoke was starting to dissipate, but nothing had changed.

I killed Snape.

"P-professor," I whispered again as I stumbled backwards. I tripped over the first row of desks and went tumbling to the floor, but I never looked away from the lifeless form sprawled across the floor. For the first time in my life my mind wasn't screaming at me to do something stupid—in fact, it wasn't saying anything at all. I crawled across the floor inch by inch, never looking away.

"Harry," I muttered, "Find…Harry…." In one quick move I had rolled over and hoisted myself back up. Forgetting my books and any other incriminating evidence I'd left in his classroom, I sprinted out of the room and made like hell for the Gryffindor common room.

That was it. I was done for. I could see the headlines now—Student Blows Up Classroom Killing Teacher, p.1. Youngest Ever Sent To Azkaban With Life Sentence, p.3. Interviews with teachers and students… "I always thought she was a nutter." "Her being a Yank and all—very violent folk…". Maybe I could go into hiding with Sirius. Sure, Uncle Jack might be a bit put out about having a fugitive for a niece, but hey, he had a tramp for a wife!

By the time I reached the common room I'd already decided what length to cut my hair and which name to assume. Fortunately, Harry, Hermione, and Ron were still downstairs. Ron and Harry were in the middle of a game of wizard chess while Hermione was going back between reading and watching the game. All three of them looked bug-eyed at me when I stormed into the room.

"Hey, Reg you're back—" Ron started, then his jaw dropped, "Bloody hell, Reg! What happened?"

I pointed back towards the portrait, stared at the hole, then back, "Um…I…Snape. Big….boom and all. Um…" I started to trail off. My brain had officially gone on strike so I had lost all sarcasm and humor. I looked down aware that I suddenly felt damp and realized I was still covered in goo and vomit. "Oh," I said in a half stupor, "I should probably change."

By this time all three of them had me surrounded and Harry had grabbed me firmly by the shoulders. "Reggie. What. Happened?"

"Snape," I said, "Um…yeah…he's sorta…dead." I started gasping—then laughing. I was cackling hysterically when Hermione smacked me across the face.

"What the bloody hell are you talking about!" Hermione hissed. The mere fact that Hermione actually used the words "bloody hell" actually pulled me out of my little insanity moment more than the slap itself.

I shook my head to shake off the blow and recounted everything that had happened down in the Potions classroom. The four of us had made our way to a secluded corner in the common room so we couldn't be overheard. By the time I had finished, they all looked as shell-shocked as I did.

"Y-you killed Professor Snape?" Ron whispered.

"Of course she didn't!" Hermione snapped, "Nothing in Wolfsbane potion is essentially toxic. He was probably just knocked unconscious. Did you check to see if he was breathing?"

I wonder if Sirius could teach me to become an Animagi, too. I could transform into a loveable lap cat and make my way to a good home to spend the rest of my years on the lam—

"Reg! Focus, please!" Hermione snapped again, "Did you check to see if Snape was breathing?"

Duh. "Um…no. I just sorta assumed with him being on the floor and covered in potion and all."

"Well, then we should probably go check." Harry said, "I mean, if he really is just unconscious we should probably tell Madam Pomfrey, shouldn't we?"

"We?" Ron asked, "Wha'dya mean we? We're not all going down there, are we?"

"We can't send Reg back down there alone. Look at her!" Hermione gestured at me, but I was too busy picking off chunks from my robes and staring at patterns in the carpet.

"Yeah, Reg has gone bye-bye," Harry said, "We're all going to check on him."

With that the four of us made our way through the portrait and down towards the dungeons—Harry leading me most of the way due to the fact I kept running into walls and corners. I was in a complete state of shock—it was a good thing that the rest of them had decided to come because otherwise I'm sure I would've ended up roaming the castle for hours on end. Snape had to just be out cold—he had to be! I started thinking more clearly the closer we got to the Potions classroom. Things would work out—no one could possibly convict me of intentionally murdering Snape even if he did have it coming 90 of the time.

The door was still flung open when we got there and we all skidded to a stop outside. Thin wisps of smoke were still waiving from the classroom, but there were still no sounds of life. Slowly, we all approached the doorframe and peeked through, one head on top of another.

"Yep, he's still there. Right then, we can just go tell Madam Pomfrey—"Ron blurted out and made to turn and run, but Hermione grabbed his robes and jerked him back.

"Not yet! We have to make sure he's really breathing." Hermione hissed.

"Do we have to?" I moaned.

"Glad to hear you've decided to join us!" Harry said in a perky tone.

"Oh, screw you." I muttered.

"Will you two stop it!" Hermione hissed, "Come on."

The four of us crept into room like kids trying to sneak into the family room on Christmas morning—a very sick, twisted, nightmarish Christmas morning. As we made our way up to the front of the room I could see the soles of Snape's shoes…then his pants…cloak…and blanched face.

"How can you tell if he's dead or not?" Ron whispered, "He looks like a corpse most of the time anyways."

Harry snorted next to me, but I still hadn't regained my sense of humor yet. We were all next to where his desk used to be, but no one was running forward to check for a pulse.

"Okay," Hermione sighed, "Now—Reg…you go check if he's breathing—"

"What!" I hissed.

"You blew him up! You check! I just said we'd go with you—I never said we'd be the one checking." Hermione replied.

"Yeah, you blew him up." Harry hissed.

I glared at both of them. "So this is what they mean by rat's fleeing a sinking ship?"

"No. More like rat's fleeing a stinking corpse." Harry said.

"Ha ha." I huffed, "Fine." The minute I said it the rest of them shrunk behind me. I rolled my eyes—ah, friends to the bitter end. Everything was moving in slow motion and every sound echoed off the now empty walls. If Snape was all right the first duty on my life-of-detention list would probably be replacing every creature on the shelves. I shuddered at the thought and turned my attention back to the floor.

"Ew. You really can't tell if he's dead or alive." I muttered.

"Just check to see if he's effin' breathing!" Ron hissed.

I waved my hand impatiently and looked back down. In all my years of accidents I'd never actually been in a situation that would require searching for a pulse. Surprised they don't include THAT in the curriculum, I mused. Okay—maybe if I just look to see if his chest is rising and falling. At least that way I wouldn't have to actually touch the slimy bastard. I nodded to myself and bent down near the floor to see if his chest was actually moving.

"What are you doing? Check for a pulse!" Hermione said.

"You check for a pulse!" I shot back. "I'm looking to see if he's breathing."

Everyone went quiet for a few moments while my head hovered near the floor. The dim light from the torches made it difficult to see if he was moving at all.

"How's that floor feeling, Reg?" Harry asked.

"Smashing. How 'bout you join me?" I looked up and cocked an eyebrow, "I can't see if he's breathing. I'll have to check for a pulse."

Ron looked like he was going to be sick, but Hermione and Harry simply held their collective breath. I sat up straight and pressed two fingers against Snape's neck. I held my breath, hoping to Merlin that the git was still alive. That would be like you, wouldn't it? Dying to send a student to Azkaban—the ultimate detention. You slimy—

"I got it!" I exclaimed. I could feel the definite thump-thump-thump of his black little heart. I started regaining feeling in my limbs again and the icy fear around my heart began to melt. I was saved from Azkaban—at least for the meantime. As I heard Harry and Hermione let out a sigh of relief I glanced down at Snape's face to see if anything had changed—and oh, baby did it. His eyes were wide open.

I screamed and fell backwards. Harry came running up beside me while Hermione tried to restrain Ron from bolting from the room.

"What? What is it?" Harry exclaimed. He took one look at Snape's face and fell backwards himself, crashing into a table and sending more vials crashing to the floor. While Harry was regaining composure, Ron and Hermione were making their way up to Snape.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, "Is he awake?"

"I dunno," I said, "He's got a pulse, but—but—well, look!" I pointed at his face.

The four of us hovered over him for a moment. Snape was alive, but for all intents and purposes he was still out cold. He just started up at the ceiling while his jaw hung slightly slack. Ron took out his wand from his pocked and gave Snape a small poke.

"Stop that!" I hissed, swatting his wand away, "You're gonna blow him up or something."

"Maybe he's just in shock." Hermione muttered.

"Shock!" I exclaimed, "Look at him! He looks completely stoned!"

We continued to hover for another moment. None of us had a clue. What if Snape really was in shock? Who would teach potions? What would the other students say? How would I be prosecuted in a court of law? The four of us were so wrapped up in thoughts as to what to do next that none of us had noticed him enter the room.

"Oh my," an old voice murmured behind us, "Not again."

The four of us screamed so loud I thought for sure someone had been hexed. We turned around and four wands were suddenly at the ready and pointed straight at Dumbledore's chest.

The Headmaster raised an eyebrow and chuckled, "Is that really necessary?"

"Professor!" Hermione exclaimed letting her wand clatter to the floor. "We can explain! Reggie—"

"Traitor," I muttered under my breath as I let my wand drop to my side. Hermione glanced at me before lowering her gaze to the floor.

"Please, Professor," Harry said, "It's not Reggie's fault!"

I looked over at Ron who wasn't saying anything, but his lip was quivering a mile a minute. I sighed—they obviously weren't going to be of much use. Harry was starting to go on about how I'd been upstairs in the common room with them the whole time when Dumbledore held up a single hand.

"Thank you, Harry, for your defense of Regina—but I believe she may have something to say on the matter herself." Dumbledore looked down at me with those twinkling eyes through those half-moon spectacles and I somehow felt instantly calmer. "Miss Bradshaw, I believe you have something on your mind."

I took a deep breath. "Yes, Professor…" I launched into the story yet again—omitting the whole pie incident and just giving the facts about that evening. How I'd been mixing the potion, how I'd lost track of time, then how I'd scampered from the room a quivering mess to find my friends to drag down here and get me out of the whole mess. After telling the whole story yet another time I felt a little bit less weight on my shoulders. That still didn't change the fact that there was an unconscious, possibly comatose teacher lying at my feet.

"I see," Dumbledore finally said when I had finished, "So you were down here for a detention?"

"Yes, sir." I said.

"May I ask what for?" Dumbledore inquired.

I closed my eyes. I knew he was going to ask that. "I hit—er—that is, I accidentally hit Sn—Professor Snape with a—a pie last Friday night."

"A pie?" Dumbledore smiled, "Well, that must have been very amusing."

"Yeah, it was pretty funny." I said—then immediately slapped a hand over my mouth. "No! No! It was—not funny! Definitely. Not. Funny. Please don't expel me." I took a step forward, "Professor Dumbledore, they had nothing to do with this. It was all my fault!"

Dumbledore reached out and placed a hand on my shoulder. "Regina, in my many years here I have seen quite an array of accidents in my time. I seem to recall our last Potions professor having a problem with a particular Upturning Potion that seemed to leave him stuck to the ceiling for nearly three weeks until we found a way to bring him down. Made lessons very interesting, I must say." He smiled at me, "I assure you, Miss Bradshaw, that Professor Snape is in no harm."

The tightness in my chest began to loosen somewhat more as I nodded. If Dumbledore was on my side there was no way I was going to Azkaban or to the street that night. His gaze shifted from me to Snape. "Now, let's see if we can bring him about, shall we?" He said.

The four of us huddled behind Dumbledore and watched intently as he bent down beside Snape. He pulled out his wand from his robes and placed the tip up against Snape's left temple then murmured, "Enervate.". The tip of his wand glowed slightly and quickly extinguished. Nothing happened for a moment—then there was a sharp inhale. The four of us staggered backwards for a moment while Snape sputtered back to life.

"What in the bloody hell—" Snape coughed as he sat up.

"Quite all right, Severus?" Dumbledore asked, smiling.

Snape sat up and swayed for a moment. His eyes looked slightly out of focus, but he looked like he was getting some color—well, he was at least a lesser shade of pale. He looked around for a moment before his black eyes regained focus—on me.

"Bradshaw?" His voice was edgy as his eyes began to narrow. I gulped.

"I believe Miss Bradshaw has earned some house points this evening." Dumbledore said as he helped Snape to his feet.

"WHAT!" Harry, Hermione, Ron, Snape, and I all exclaimed at the same time.

"Regina kept a very cool head about herself in a time of stress. She went and found help and attempted to determine your condition after sustaining quite a shock herself." Dumbledore explained.

Snape brushed some dust and potion remnants off his robes, all the while staring down at me. I couldn't tell if he was reminiscing on what happened or trying to figure out another punishment. I felt my heart beating frantically—like McGonagall had said, I would have to own up to my mistakes. "What happened, Bradshaw?" Snape snapped.

I winced as he spat my name out. "Y-yes, sir. A-after the explosion I went to find my friends to help because I was…well…a little rattled." His eyes continued to narrow, but I kept going. "We—er—I wanted to make sure that you were okay before we went to get Madam Pomfrey." I took a tentative step forward, "This didn't have anything to do with them. I wasn't watching the timer, Professor. The explosion was all my fault. I should be docked points, not given any."

That was the kicker. Snape's eyes went back to normal and he cocked an eyebrow. Dumbledore simply smiled and if I'd been able to turn around I would've seen three sets of jaws falling to the floor. As I mentally began playing "Taps", Dumbledore turned to Snape.

"Bravery as well…even if it wasn't intentional, Severus." Dumbledore stated, "She admits to her mistake."

"A mistake! Exactly!" Snape growled, "Foolish child! Do you realize that you could've killed both of us?"

I tightened my jaw, "The ingredients of Wolfsbane Potion aren't inherently deadly." I said, "Sir."

Nobody moved or spoke. I didn't feel like I deserved any house points—hell, some lip from Snape was the least I had coming to me. Yeah, I'd made a mistake, but he was the one who insisted on me making the potion in the first place.

"I think," Dumbledore said, "Ten points to Gryffindor for grace under pressure? And I believe you and Miss Bradshaw can work out another arrangement for your detention." Dumbledore turned back to the others, "Harry, Hermione, Ron…I believe you can wait for Regina back in the common room, if you wish." With that he ushered the three of them from the classroom. Harry cast a sympathetic look over his shoulder and mouthed, "I'll wait for you." I nodded. As soon as the door was shut it was just Snape and I again.

I sighed and looked up at Snape. "So?"

"So?" Snape said dryly, "Is that all you have to say? So?"

"Well, what else do you want?" I said.

"I do not appreciate your tone, Bradshaw. May I remind you of the events of the last hour, which involved you setting off an explosion in my very classroom. Destroying countless specimens and blowing apart my desk!" Snape huffed.

I clenched my fists by my sides and plowed ahead. If I was going down, I was going to make one hell of a show while I went, "Sir, I'm sorry about the desk. I'm sorry I destroyed the classroom. I'll clean it. I'll scrub the entire room by hand if need be. I'm sorry I nearly blew you up. Believe me…I'm really sorry about that." I took a deep breath, "But you were the one who insisted on a fifth year tackling such a difficult potion. I'm glad you gave me an opportunity—and considering the complexity alone…I think I did rather well."

Snape raised an eyebrow, "Well? You think it went rather well?"

I took a deep breath. "Well, yes, I do. There were plenty of opportunities for me to blow the potion up before hand. The fact that a fifth year was able to make it through an extremely difficult potion with no incident until the very last step is a—is admirable."

Neither of us spoke for what seemed an eternity. I was banking on the fact that my cheekiness in the past had been the reason Snape took his—liking—to me. How many potions did Snape blow up before he became a Potions master? Well, Snape wanted a test and he got it.

"I do not agree with the decision to award house points—no matter how much pressure you were put under. However—" He smiled grimly, "Tonight's little exercise does by no means excuse you from detention."

I nodded and rolled up my sleeves. "I understand, sir. I'll just go get the mop."

"Tomorrow night." Snape cut me off.

My sleeves fell back over my hands. "What?" I asked incredulously.

"Tomorrow night," Snape repeated. "I told you that your detention would be served while brewing a satisfactory batch of Wolfsbane Potion. To night obviously falls into the 'unsatisfactory' category."

My mouth fell open. How could he possibly serious? I'd nearly killed the man not a half hour ago and here he was re-scheduling an opportunity to relive this horrifying experience. What are you—a sadist or something!

"Do close your mouth, Bradshaw. You look like a codfish." Snape droned on. I quickly snapped my jaw shut as he continued. "I hardly expected you to make it through this potion in one night. You didn't expect to be let go if you made one simple error, did you?"

"Error?" I blurted, "I nearly killed us!"

Snape definitely smiled at that. "From your lips…" He muttered, "Tomorrow night. Same time, Bradshaw. You may go." He turned and went about muttering "Reparo" around the classroom.

I stood dumbfounded for a moment. I back-talked him. I swore in front of him. I was a flat out smart-ass in class and tonight I had actually come within inches of killing the man. What the hell did I have to do to put this guy off? Become Hermione, my brain hissed at me. I rolled my eyes—I had a point. Only the goodie two-shoes seemed to get the rise out of Snape. I was the only non-Slytherin that had the—well, let's face it—balls to actually stand up to the bastard. Harry didn't exactly suck up to him, but he didn't blatantly back talk Snape. I, however, had no problem doing so. Call it courage, call it stupidity, or call it just plain old' being a Gryffindor—when it came to me and Snape there was no fear.

"Um…" I stared up as I watched Snape perform various Repairing Charms around the classroom, "Do you need any help with that, Professor?"

"No, I think you've done enough helping for one evening." Snape said simply without turning around.

Not needing to be told twice, I walked quietly to the door. I was well down the corridor before I bolted for Gryffindor Tower.

I was panting again when I came through the portrait and sure enough the three of them were still awake and waiting. They all sprang out of their chairs near the fireplace and ran over the second I was fully inside.

"Well?"

"Wha'd he say?"

"What happened?"

I grinned and held up my hands. "People, people, please!" I sauntered over to one of the armchairs and flopped down casually. The three of them simply stood by the doorway watching me with confusion. I gestured to the other chairs, "Well, sit down."

They took seats cautiously—my manner alone probably made them think I'd either gone mad or had a Memory Charm put on me. Once I was out of the hot seat I had a tendency of becoming smug and pompous—and tonight I felt that I really had the right to be.

"Well then, Miss Regina? Do tell us." Hermione raised an eyebrow while stifling a laugh.

"Got out of detention did you?" Ron shook his head, "Only you could—"

"Oh, I've got detention." I laughed, "The psycho wants me to brew another batch of Wolfsbane tomorrow night."

Three sets of jaws dropped. "You're joking." Harry said.

"Nope." I said nonchalantly, glancing at my nails, "I'm telling you guys, all you have to do is be a smart ass and try to blow the guy up and it'll make working conditions so much better." The continued to look at me in shock and I only grinned. "Well, I think my work is done for tonight. I'll see y'all at breakfast tomorrow. Night!" And with that cheery note I headed for the staircase to the dorms.

As I started to make my way up the staircase I could hear Ron muttering behind me. "Bloody Yanks. They really do think they're invincible." I grinned like an idiot the rest of the night.