Potions: What Would a Girl Do Without It?
by Slave4Severus
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot and any original characters I will add in as I deem necessary. Everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling. Should any other literary references be used, they will be so noted at that point.
She was on her third piece of parchment now. The quill in her hand skilfully scratched over the paper as she furrowed her brow in concentration. Although her professor had strictly advised keeping her essay to one sheet of parchment, she found she was unable to keep it shorter than three pieces. 'He will understand,' she thought confidently as she made the final additions upon her homework. A small smile crossed her full lips as she thought about Professor Correlius, her private tutor for the past ten years. Even though he tried to restrict the length and depth of her assignments she could never help but write more; her thirst for knowledge so blatantly obvious. This drive had forced her parents to begin her schooling early. One evening they had found their young, barely seven-years-old, daughter asleep on various Potion and Transfiguration books in the family library.
Upon waking she had fired so many questions about 'the pretty pictures' that her parents decided to find a suitable tutor for her. By the time her eleventh birthday arrived, she was already too far ahead of her peers to benefit from a formal school setting. Not to say that several prestigious schools had not tried to claim her for one of their own, but her parents believed they could ultimately broaden her education best in relaxed and sheltered surroundings.
Alanna sighed heavily, returning her Charms book to the stack beside her, retrieving her heavy potions book from her bag. 'Potions, what would a girl do without it?' She thought, as she lightly touched the embossed lettering on the book "Dark Potions and Their Everyday Uses." She smiled as she remembered begging Professor Correlius to let her study dark potions after finishing the required text last year.
"Dark Potions are not fit for a school environment, Miss Flint, and we shall not discuss this any further," Professor Correlius' voice brusque as he returned to the stack of Potions texts he felt suitable for her.
Alanna did not hide her disappointment when she spoke: "But, Professor, we did agree that I could help with the selection of the curriculum when I have finished the required texts for the N.E.W.T.'s. As they are not scheduled until next YEAR, I thought I could help my Father by..."
He ignored her comments as he handed her a colourful book. "Now, here is a good solid text that should spike that abundant interest of yours and keep your mind out of the other UNSUITABLE ones." Professor Correlius handed her a red book with gold lettering on the top that read 'Is it love or lust? Potions of Seduction.'
Pearly laughter escaped Alanna as she read the title and cocked a finely arched brow at her Professor. "Firstly, sir, if I should brew any of these potions, whom would I administer these to in order to log and record their effectiveness?" Her thoughts drifted to the horrible boy she spent her summers with. "Surely, you do not think that I would ever administer anything to my horrid cousin Marcus, would you?" The thought was rather ludicrous. "Secondly, ihaaealeaysudyt."
"Excuse me, Miss Flint, what was that you just so eloquently mumbled behind your hand?" Professor Correlius tried to suppress a laugh thinking that he had finally stumped his star pupil, but coughed instead after hearing her clipped answer.
"I said that I have already studied it, sir." Alanna did not want to say on whom she actually tried it though. Even though Marcus would have been a better choice, Merlin how she hated the little slime, but last summer she had the great opportunity to slip some 'Aphrodite's Nectar' to an unsuspecting guest of her father. She shuddered involuntarily as she remembered the incident.
It was an early summer evening, and she had finally figured out how to brew the complex lust potion to right consistency and fuchsia colour as her father stepped into her private laboratory, a gift for her sixteenth birthday two months prior.
"Alanna, darling..." he broke off and surveyed his surroundings. "Isn't it a little dark in here?" He came closer to her worktable as she tried to conceal the red book on the top of the counter, slipping it into the folds of her robes. "And what in the world are you brewing?" Farrell Flint eyed the concoction in the cauldron warily and then raised his eyes to his only daughter before him. A pained, over bright smile forced itself onto her flushed face.
"Oh, uhm, nothing, Papa. It is just a potion I am working on for . . . Zippy." Alanna stepped from one foot to another her adrenaline rushing through her blood, as she tried to come up with a convincing lie. Moreover, where in the hell did 'Zippy' come from?
Her father was really suspicious now. "Zippy. You are trying to tell me that this brew is for one of our house elves?" He took her ladle and slowly stirred the potion.
'Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit...' She gracefully took, or snatched rather, the ladle from him and said: "Well you know Zippy, she has been a little under the weather lately . . . and my tea has not been the right temperature in the mornings, so...I thought I would make a form of Pepper-up potion for her." She nervously looked into her fathers eyes and smiled again.
"Humph," was the answer she received. Farrell Flint looked back at his only child knowing that she was not being truthful with him. 'We need to work on her concealment of facial expressions. An idiot could read her like a book.'
"Well, darling, I came here to tell you that unfortunately you will have to dine in your rooms tonight. I am expecting important . . . company and your mother and I have to play host."
Alanna sighed heavily. 'It's always the same old tune. We love you, but are too ashamed to introduce you to our friends.' She knew it was futile to talk her father into letting her join them for dinner. She had had a battle of wills with him when she was eleven and found out that even her Papa had boundaries. Alanna carefully ladled some of the potion into a small vial and corked it before she responded.
"So, I take it these are important business clients?"
Happy that his daughter would not make a big fuss, he smiled and turned back towards the door.
"Yes, you could say that. Now, they will arrive in about thirty minutes, so please make sure you are in your rooms in fifteen."
He opened the door and stopped to look over his shoulder.
"And Alanna?"
She looked up from her station as if caught.
"Yes?"
"Do not let me catch you eavesdropping. Is that understood?"
Alanna swallowed heavily. 'Blast, he knows I spied on him last week while discussing the owl post with Mother.'
"But Papa, you know I wouldn't do that." She replied meekly.
'Oh yes, I will definitely have to teach her to conceal her facial expressions.'
"Alright," he nodded to his only child, "Good night my little angel." He slowly stepped out of the lab and quietly closed the door.
Alanna quickly scurgified her cauldron and utensils, replacing the ingredients in her storage cupboard with skilled precision, before carefully slipping the potion vial into her pocket. Quietly she stepped out of her lab and walked down the long corridor leading to the foyer trying to look as inconspicuous as possible.
The potion did not have a long shelf life and she would have to administer it within the hour if she wanted the correct effects. Alanna suppressed a girlish giggle of anticipation as she made her way over to her usual hiding place behind a statue of Morgane. This particular spot placed her in perfect proximity to view the activities down below while still being concealed by the dark shadows of the statue. Although she had not met any of her parents' guests, she had glimpsed most of them coming through the grand doors to the manor. They often stayed for social gatherings in the grand ballroom where she could watch them from afar with lingering fascination.
Less than fifteen minutes passed before a loud knock fell on the front door, shaking Alanna from her thoughts as she pressed forward for a better look. An old house elf popped into view, unlatching the heavy door and pulling on the brass handle with all its might, huffing under the strain. The door had only opened an inch before it swung open from the outside, pushing the elf onto his backside and into the coat rack behind him with a small "Eeep!" of distress. Darkness of night covered the man standing in the doorframe, his black-gloved hand holding onto an ebony cane with a silver snakehead pressed firmly against the door.
Alanna did not blink as he slowly stepped into the lit foyer, scanning his surroundings with calculated precision; exuding dominance and aristocracy. He was tall and classically handsome with his well-defined chin, thin lips and piercing gaze. The feature that truly startled Alanna though was the shockingly full head of long platinum hair, which perfectly graced his figure: a blond Adonis.
'I wonder what potion he used to get that colour..." she thought before her eyes swept lower, taking in the very well clad form of the blond man as he moved smartly into the sitting room. Definitely a possibility, she thought, scrutinizing the next man in the foyer and dismissed him just as fast.
'Uncle Faustus would know it was me.' The third man made her cringe in disgust; short, balding, snivelling, and just absolutely not a candidate for a lust potion. 'Gods help the poor witch that has to endure HIS advances.' Alanna thought with a shudder and could not stop an undignified "Uugghhhrr" passing her lips.
The minute the sound escaped her, the fourth man snapped his head up, seemingly staring straight at her. Alanna inhaled sharply and pressed further into the shadow of the statue, hoping, nay praying, the man had not seen her.
Those black eyes were burning into her.
All seeing and relentless.
She closed her eyes briefly and sent Merlin a quick prayer. When she blinked her eyes open once more, she found he was still staring, but his eyes were roaming the entire top of the foyer where the huge stairs wrapped around, leading to the two wings of the house.
She exhaled slowly, knowing he hadn't seen her and relaxed a bit before resuming her assessment of the 'candidates'. Only three words could adequately describe the fourth man: tall, dark, and . . . snarky. A shiver ran down her spine as she watched him survey his surroundings with a sneer still darting furtive glances towards her vicinity. His black hair hung limply down around his face hiding those searching eyes and emphasizing his prominent nose.
'All black, 'she thought,' who in this century wears all black?' The stranger swept across the foyer following the other three guests, long robes billowing behind him as he quietly entered the study and closed the door with a resounding thud.
Alanna crept out from behind the statue and carefully made her way down the stairs. The house elf had already picked his small frame off the floor and had vanished for the kitchens leaving the foyer deserted. Only the soft murmur of voices was audible from behind the door to her left. She quickly crept over to the dining room located on the right hand side of the foyer and closed the door softly behind her.
"What is little Miss doing down here?"
Alanna yelped softly and swung around, facing a very disgruntled looking house elf.
"Zippy, I...uhm, well, you see I was hungry and..."
"Little Miss not need to lie to old Zippy!" The pint-sized creature wagged her long, gnarly finger at her. "Little Miss knows that dinner upstairs tonight."
"Oh, yes you are right. I totally forgot."
'Oh please believe me and don't tell Mother about this.' She thought pleadingly.
"Well, guests will be here shortly and Zippy has to get good plates and glasses." Zippy turned around and busied herself with the plates, while Alanna stepped further into the room towards the wine glasses situated by the bar.
"I will get the glasses for you Zippy." She said breathlessly as she grabbed the red wine bottle next to the glasses and began filling the first one.
"No, no. Little Miss must leave right now or Mistress will be upset. Little Miss knows not to meet any of Masters company!" With every word, Zippy became more anxious and louder, running over to Alanna and attempting to pull her from the room, bottle and all.
"I will leave in just a moment, just after I . . ." She didn't finish that sentence, as there were voices coming closer to the dining room. Alanna quickly took the vial from out of her pocket and uncorked it, pouring half of its contents into the already filled wine glass. She hastily picked it up and swirled the ruby liquid mixing the potion with the alcohol. Returning the stopper to the vial she hastily let herself be pulled from the room. The door on the other end opened just as Zippy dragged her into the kitchen, but not before Alanna could get a glimpse of her father and mother walking into the room.
'Merlin's foot! I don't know who will get the glass now! Oh, please let it be the blond!' she suppressed her excitement as she ran from the kitchen into the vast garden behind the house. The cool breeze ruffled her auburn curls as she made her way around the dark mansion in search of the dining room windows. Alanna skidded ungracefully to a halt by the first window and crouched low to the ground peering into it. Here she had a great view of the bar and Zippy as she continued to fill the rest of the wine glasses.
'Don't give it to Uncle Faustus." She silently pleaded.
Alanna watched as Zippy charmed the tray of glasses levitating them slowly to each member of the dinner party. The dark red wine she had poured was the only glass of its kind, the others holding an amber liquid or white wine. The tray slowly floated to first her mother, who took a glass of white wine and then to her father who helped himself to an amber snifter.
'Sweet Merlin,' she thought as she watched in horrific rapture, but soon tensed again while the tray made its way over the bald man. A few agonizing moments passed as he made his selection.
'Only three left.' Her adrenaline was pumping hard as she watched the tray move in slow motion to her Uncle Faustus, who was more interested in the conversation than the drink. With a wave of his hand, he motioned the tray to the next guest.
Alanna was seriously having problems breathing now. Her pounding heart roared in her ears and throughout her entire body. A thin sheen of perspiration glistened on her forehead.
'Ohhh, this was a bad idea. A really bad idea. What in Merlin's name was I thinking? Oh, get off it Alanna you weren't thinking. That is why you made the bloody potion in the first place...'
Her mind went blank as both the blond and the dark man made their drink selections at the same time, both reaching for the red wine. In a fit of good manners, the fair-haired man relinquished his hold one the glass to his darker counterpart with a mocking bow; Zippy was there in an instant to hand him a fresh glass of red wine as everyone immersed themselves in the dinner conversation.
'Shit...Double Shit...why not the blond?' She couldn't take her eyes off the dark man. He was sitting across from the windows in plain sight from where she was crouching. Slowly, she removed her lab book from her pocket with a miniature pre-filled ink quill and began scribbling something in her book.
Then she waited...and waited...and waited some more.
"Blast! Doesn't this man drink?" she muttered lowly after what seemed like ages. While her heart rate, and anticipation for that matter, lessened, she became painfully aware of her lower extremities tensing and falling asleep. She shifted her weight slightly to ease her discomfort, but ungracefully managed to fall forward into the bushes with a soft thud.
"Oh bugger!" She swore quietly, hoping that her little mishap neither heard nor seen in the dining room. Carefully she peered into the windows, registering that her parents had suspected nothing, as they talked animatedly with their guests. Alanna exhaled audibly before she, yet again, resumed her position to observe her 'guinea pig,' finally being rewarded as he gracefully lifted the glass, swirling the contents in a clockwise motion and bringing it to his lips.
Her eyes widened visibly at the display before her. "Oh Merlin...oh Merlin...," she whimpered in a forced whisper, "...I am so dead...he...he knows. He KNOWS!"
The crimson liquid never made it past the man's lips before a spark of recognition flashed across his face. His eyes immediately focused onto his host as he carefully sniffed the glass, placing a long, sleek finger into its contents. Without breaking his eye contact, he quickly slipped said finger between his lips, tasting, analysing. A definite glare contorted his pale face before a careful mask of indifference replaced it just as quickly. His gaze darted to the blond man beside him and then to the other occupants of the room in an assessing and calculating manner before setting the wine glass back on the table, then 'accidentally' spilling it across the surface with a flick of his wrist. Zippy replaced his drink with a fresh one before he could even utter some form of excuse to his host. With one last look at the blond man, who had sipped his wine over the course of the evening, he indulged in a deep draught of the uncontaminated liquid. A small sneer appeared on his lips, but otherwise his expression was unfathomable.
Alanna could not believe her misfortune. After the hours of hard work in creating 'Aphrodite's Nectar' she would not have the pleasure in seeing her handiwork put into action. She gathered herself up from her position by the window and turned to walk to the front of the house, her thoughts already wandering to yet another potion in the red book, and better selection of a test subject when the time came to administer. Had she been less distracted, she would have realized that the dinner party was winding down rather quickly, as the four men stood to take their leave.
'Well Alanna, you should be happy that he didn't drink it. It could have been much worse.' She sighed to herself. 'Besides...at least he has no clue that it wa-...'
"Uhmmph!" Her body connected with a hard, black wall that seemed to appear out of nowhere, making her stagger backward, and for a second time that evening fall ungainly onto the grass. ''What the..." she did not finish her sentence before the 'wall' swooped down on her, catching her wrists in a vice, and yanking her up harshly. At one-hundred and seventy-two centimetres, Alanna was by no means a small girl, but the man gripping her wrists towered over her like a demon spawned from hell. The strength that emanated from him was dizzying and overpowering at the same time, although she could have mistaken the dizzying for the violent shaking of her body as it drowned in its own fear.
The moon crested over the tops of the trees surrounding the manor, revealing the spot they were both standing in. Unfortunately, for Alanna, the eerie light illuminated his face, casting a deathly pale glare to his skin and making his eyes glow like two perfectly shaped onyx orbs. Those eyes scared her the most. Dark determination and coldness was only the tip of what she could make out in them, particularly in the moonlight.
She swallowed convulsively, hoping her body would not betray her too much as she began to tug at her wrists trying to free them from Hells firm grasp. A sharp yank later and she hit the man's chest again as his face began to lower towards hers. Thoughts eluded her; breath eluded her, only the desire to get as far away from this man as possible.
'He knows, he knows, he knows . . .' her mind chanted repeatedly. His long nose was only centimetres from hers now and she could feel his hot breath on her face.
Then he sniffed her.
'He sniffed me!" Her thoughts came to a sudden stop. 'Why the hell is he sniff-...,' she gasped softly, '...I know he didn't drink any of the potion! Or DID he? Did I miss him drinking it?' Her mind reeled as she tried to get out of his grasp once more, but now with more urgency, her face mirroring her dawning horror. It didn't take him much effort to stop her attempts of escape, as he gave her a violent shake, jarring her into submission.
Thusly spoke the demon.
"Who sent you?" He said in a dangerous voice. Alanna blinked once. Twice. He shook her one more time. "I will not repeat myself, madam. Answer the question!" he hissed menacingly staring down at her.
"I don't...kn..know what y...you are talking about." She managed to pant out, trying to avert her gaze from him. Circe, he scared her, and his deep voice didn't help that fact one little bit. Even though he was speaking to her in little more than a whisper, she could tell his voice was a deep baritone rumbling through his chest: which she still was conveniently plastered against firmly.
"Don't lie to me. I can smell the potion on you!"
Alanna involuntarily sniffed her collar. 'Bollocks...he's right!' She could smell the faint aroma of the Ashwinder eggs and Oysters she stewed this morning, and wrinkled her nose. Thanking the Gods that it was dark and he couldn't see her blush she stammered: "Nobody sent me...I...I swear!"
"What a bad little liar you are." He ground out venomously before he shifted his grip on her. Had Alanna not been scared to begin with, she knew she was bloody petrified now. His right hand slithered down to her waist and gripped her harshly there, while his knee snaked itself between her legs. She gasped loudly and tried to push him away with her freed hand, but failed miserably as the black fabric of his robes cocooned her body. His knee insistently rubbing against her intimately in a way she had not yet experienced.
To her utter horror, she could feel her body reacting to his in a not so subtle way, beginning with a tingle in her stomach that spread toward her lower abdomen. 'Damn those teenage hormones!" She thought savagely, while he placed her other hand flat against his chest, her fingers rubbing softly against his woollen frock; the texture rough and unyielding.
She could feel his breath again, not on her face, but close to her ear as he expertly began to nibble on her sensitive lobe. A whimper escaped Alanna's lips before she could stop herself. Heat seemed to course through her veins, eliciting a very new sensation for her, robbing her breath when he his tongue swirled over the sensitive skin right behind her ear. The smell of rosemary and musky vanilla radiated from his body and engulfed her as she lost all sense of reality. She felt a compelling urge to angle her head and delicately lick the steady pulse in his neck...
That sweet, hot breath in her ear was sending shivers down her spine, pooling where he held onto her waist. Then that skilled mouth began to speak in a cold tone, completely belying the hot warmth he was exuding across the gooseflesh of her skin.
"Is THIS what you wanted?" His claw-like grip forced itself beneath her robes touching the skin of her waist. "Have you been sent here to gather information?"
Her eyes searched his in confusion as his hands slowly moved upwards. "No, I haven't...please..." Alanna's breath caught as his thumbs feathered across the bottom of her breasts.
He loomed over her, crushing her personal space with his frame and hotly hissing into her ear. "THIS is what happens when you dare play with potions."
He pushed her back forcefully and turned on his heel without a backward glance. Alanna watched him in morbid fascination as he walked across the lawn, a black shadow that melted into the darkness of the forest. It had taken her a full fifteen minutes to quell her racing heart before she could sneak back into the manor, righting her clothes as she walked on jellied legs.
Opening 'Dark Potions and Their Every Day Uses', she pushed those memories aside.
It did not take her long to convince her Professor that any form of Seduction Potions would not be safe to brew for various reasons he seemed oblivious. He insisted on their intrinsic value in the defence against the Dark Arts.
Dark Arts indeed. Very dark...and handsome...and...she digressed.
No, she would continue to learn about dark potions just as she had planned. Besides, none of the dark potions she had brewed left her with erotic nightmares about a demon lover with unfathomable black eyes that probed into her very soul.
Authors Note: One-hundred and seventy-two centimetres 5'8 feet