Potions: What would a Girl Do without It?
By Slave4Severus
Disclaimer: I still do not own any of J.K.R. characters. Even though I wish I did.
Author's Note: I had to remove this chapter earlier due to 'technical' difficulties (I think Peeves has gotten into my computer and posted the beta-ed, non corrected version. I am trying hard to punish him for this.) Sorry for any confusion!
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"So, what does she look like, mate?" Ron was walking next to him with his fists crammed in his pockets, grinning roguishly at a passing group of giggling sixth year Ravenclaw girls.
"How do you think she looks, Ron?" Harry watched his best friend shrug in response as they made their way up the many stairs to the third floor DADA classroom. "Remember the way you looked when you were puking up slugs second year?"
Ron cringed at the thought. "Yeah, what of it?"
"Well, she looks about ten times worse than you did, not including her sweat-drenched body and Snape-like skin tone." He was exasperated that Ron could think about the girl's looks at a time like this.
"Urgh! A barker then!" Ron shuddered with disgust. Harry rolled his eyes as he shot his friend baleful look. Since the beginning of term Ron had been very preoccupied with the fairer sex and had dated at least three different girls, which he knew of anyhow, since then. Currently, he was talking up Susan Bones, a rather curvy seventh year Hufflepuff, who was slowly warming up to his advances. Harry really did not think much on his best friend's love life, but became thoroughly annoyed when he would either try to set him up with someone, or treat women as if looks were the only thing of importance. He would not mention to him that the girl in the hospital wing was really not that bad looking, or he would be pestered into getting out his invisibility cloak in order to satisfy Ron's curiosity.
As the last staircase moved to the third floor hallway, Harry sighed with fatigue. He just couldn't snap out of it today; still feeling faint and even dizzy at times, not to mention the horrible thirst that left his mouth and throat dry and scratchy. He cleared his throat involuntarily and brushed his tongue over his chapped lips. He hoped the professor could tell them more about what he was experiencing.
Ron eyed his friend warily while they made their way through the deserted hallway. He did not like one bit how pale and exhausted Harry seemed all day and had even noticed him having troubles casting simple spells in Transfiguration earlier. He wrinkled his forehead in concern as he tried yet another subject to distract Harry's wandering mind.
"So, who do you think will replace Creevy as Chaser in the tryouts?"
The two friends launched into a heated discussion on which classmate they would push to try out for the illustrious position on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. By the time they reached Professor Krieger's office Harry had gained a little bit of color in his cheeks and his eyes had more of their usual sparkle. Harry smiled at Ron and determinedly knocked on the professor's door, suppressing his laughter as he heard the familiar sound of something crashing to the office floor before hearing an embarrassed "Come in!"
The boys entered Professor Krieger's office tentatively; not because they were uncomfortable around him, but only in self-preservation. The professor was known to have caused a plethora of accidents since his arrival in September, mostly involving himself and an unassuming student. As much as they respected the professor, he often looked the fool in spite of his many talents, including his ten years of Auror experience. Both Harry and Ron glanced suspiciously around the office scanning its contents for any signs of danger, such as rabid Doxies, clouds of hinkypunks, or hordes of shrieking Erklings. Harry and Ron took a careful step forward, coming to a stop just inside the doorframe to survey the room.
The office itself contained a long bookshelf that reached from the floor to the ceiling on the far wall littered with various books, parchments, old quills (how they could be old already Harry didn't know), and even a suspect-looking sandwich that seemed to have been there long enough to take up residency. Before the bookshelf was the professor's huge oak-finished desk with two chairs facing it invitingly in an offset position. The desktop was cluttered with marked and unmarked pieces of parchment, three inkwells, more quills, and a candelabrum that probably had not been de-waxed in over a decade. Their professor was situated behind his desk on all fours trying to clean up loose papers that had spilled from his briefcase only moments earlier before they had entered.
Deciding that it would be safe enough to tread further, they both muttered a tentative "Good Afternoon, Professor."
Professor Krieger looked up in surprise. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley! How may I help you gentleman?" Professor Krieger got up from the floor with a heavy sigh and sat at his desk before motioning Harry and Ron to take the two seats in front of him.
As Harry sat in his chair he regarded the man before him with a bit of apprehension. The professor could be described as thin and gangly, reminding Harry of someone who had a growth spurt of a foot in a couple of months and had never become accustomed to their body. He had short brown hair and eyes, a soothing tenor voice, and always had a smile ready for his students. In other words: the exact opposite of Professor Snape.
He cleared his parched throat one more time before he looked into the professor's smiling eyes.
"Professor, you have heard about the girl who crashed through the Great Hall window, right?" He already knew the answer to the question, but was not quite sure how to approach the subject.
"Yes, I have. Various versions of it, in fact." His lips quivered slightly as he glanced at Ron, whose ears promptly turned a lovely shade of magenta.
"Yes …err…well, I was in the infirmary this morning while Madam Pomfrey was treating her and while I was receiving my exit examination, the girl began to convulse uncontrollably. Madam Pomfrey asked me to assist her in holding her down and …err…ever since then I have been feeling a bit …off color." He chose his words carefully, not wanting to give away too much of the frightening experience.
Professor Krieger furrowed his brow. "Have you discussed this with Madam Pomfrey yet?"
"No sir, I was wondering if you knew of any ...uhm…dark magic that could have produced these symptoms."
The man studied Harry for a few minutes before getting up and retrieving a book from his shelf, thumbing through it quickly, finding a passage of interest, and reading it. Harry glanced at Ron who was mouthing something at him that could have been the word 'daft,' but did not respond to his provocation, as his professor made his way back to his desk.
"Well, with the vague information you have given me Mr. Potter, it is hard to tell what precisely may have given you these… 'off color' feelings," he paused and turned a couple more pages.
"Going by the Hogwarts gossip it would be safe to assume that this girl has been hit with various hexes or curses and that by the time you had assisted Madam Pomfrey your body was used as a vessel, or conductor for her residual dark energy."
"Residual energy, sir?" Harry was more confused now than before.
"Yes, Mr. Potter. Whenever someone is hit with any type of spell there are traces of residual magic that linger and course through the body of the affected. In her case, there were residual traces of dark magic, which, in certain quantities, may overload the mind and body if not released. You say she was convulsing?"
"Yes, sir."
He turned another page in his book before continuing. "Convulsions are the result of the body's attempt to depolarize magical residue. I would not bet my life on it Mr. Potter, but it seems to me that your touch drained the girl of this surplus somehow."
Professor Krieger glanced up from his book and looked at Harry thoughtfully, his eyes taking in the features of the tired young man before him.
"I think you should return to the infirmary for another examination, just to be sure that everything is alright."
"Do you think that this residual magic is harmful, Professor?" Ron was sitting on the edge of his seat a worried frown etched on his features.
The professor smiled at Ron and shook his head. "No, Mr. Weasley. He will probably be a bit woozy for another day and then should return to his normal happy self by tomorrow."
"Thank you, Professor."
"Yes, thank you for your time, Professor." Harry added as he followed his friend out of the office. Although Professor Krieger's explanation made sense he still had more than enough questions that were left unanswered. His trembling hand rubbed his dully aching scar as they made their way to the library to find Hermione.
"See, mate? Nothing to worry about. It's not as if she's You-Know-Who…" Ron's words trailed off into a higher-pitched nervous laugh followed by deathly silence.
Harry's mood was becoming darker by the minute. Not Voldemort indeed.
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"Has Dumbledore been contacted?" The clipped question came from none other than the fully drenched Potions Master.
"Yes, this morning after I reset the wards I sent an emergency owl to the Ministry." Minerva watched the precise motions of her longtime colleague. He really was irascible!
Severus performed a drying spell on himself and began to roll down the sleeves of his shirt. He glanced over at Madam Pomfrey, who was busily tucking her unconscious patient into a freshly made bed, swishing her wand to assess the effectiveness of the bath. After buttoning up his many layers of black clothing he motioned the two women to follow him into the nurse's office. He was adamant in finding out just who this intruder was, and establish the threat level the school and its occupants found themselves in.
Upon entering her office Madam Pomfrey walked behind her small desk and began making notes in the girl's chart, while Minerva gave Severus a questioning stare. He scowled at her as usual before focusing his attention on the contents of the office.
"Did she arrive with anything Madam Pomfrey, other than her clothes and that cloak?" His eyes fell upon a bloodied heap of rags by the side of her desk.
"No, Severus. The clothes on her back were all she came with." Madam Pomfrey looked at him over the rims of her small reading glasses.
"Well, have you searched them yet?"
"Of course not! When did I have the chance to do that?" She snapped exasperatedly.
Severus brow rose in indignant irritation. "You mean to tell me that the trespasser has been here for the past eight hours and you have not seen fit to search her clothing for any signs of identity or intent?" His eyes flashed dangerously.
Professor McGonagall put up her hands and closed her eyes, praying for patience. She was not about to listen to another spat between the two of them. Without a word she swished her wand and levitated the soiled clothing before herself and Professor Snape, who promptly began patting the fabric with both hands from the bottom up. Within seconds his hands connected with something small and round and he deftly removed the object from the tattered robes. When he pulled his fingers from the fabric he revealed a small vial of sapphire blue potion. He clenched his teeth forcefully and sneered at the two women in triumph.
"Well, well, well, what have we here?" He purred in a soft voice. "It seems to me that this child has been hiding a vial of the Draught of Living Death from us." He paused for emphasis. "I do not have to explain to either of you that a drop too much of this potion could kill a fully grown man." He scrutinized the contents of the vial with the eye of an expert. The potion had been brewed expertly he noted, its coloring and density perfect. "There is enough here to do just that."
"Severus, there could be an entirely different reason for her to be carrying that type of potion." Minerva was becoming highly annoyed with the professor's suspicions.
"Name one, Minerva," he regarded her with a cold and challenging look that was returned just as coolly. The Deputy Headmistress let out an un-lady like 'humph' and crossed her arms before her bosom in annoyance as she silently watch Severus resume his pat down of the robes.
It did not take long before his long, tapered fingers found the hidden pocket on the right-breast side of the cloak, bringing forth an empty vial and a thick parchment envelope stained brown with dried blood. He quickly uncorked the vial with his thumb and brought it to his face, inhaling what was left of its fumes.
"Fortifying Draught," he mumbled to himself, rolling the delicate vial between thumb and forefinger. He wondered when she had ingested this strong version of the Pepper-up potion, or if she had at all.
His attention shifted to the soiled letter in his hands as he brought it closer to his face, trying to decipher the flowing script under a particularly dark blood stain. Although the first part of the recipients name had vanished the last stood out boldly in fancy manuscript etched in blue ink: Dumbledore.
Upon further inspection, Severus found the letter sealed with a dollop of blue wax and a hasty indentation of a family crest. With squinting eyes he tried to decipher the Latin phrase crowning above the blue shield topped by three wands in a chevron-like style, framing a radiant cobra: Cum sanguis adipiscor honor - 'With the blood I gain the honor'.
This was the Flint family crest. Why would any member of the Flint family, who were all dedicated Death Eaters, want to willingly contact Dumbledore? Especially with such unorthodox means as the one resting a few feet away from them! There were four who could have penned this missive and each seemed as unlikely as the next. There was Faustus Flint, whose lust for power and its spoils had been paramount during the past twenty years. Severus doubted that this had changed within the past 48 hours. His son Marcus Flint on the other hand had only been a Death Eater for a little over a year and could have regretted his decision, reaching out to Dumbledore as Severus himself had in his time of need. Farrell Flint was also an avid Death Eater, true to Voldemort's cause for many years, though his passion for revels had died down of late, he was still a force to be reckoned with; the only spring of intelligence on the family tree. His wife, Melanie, supported her husband and thus the Dark Lord, making the likelihood of HER writing this letter slim to none. Well, this was an enigma waiting to be solved, and he promptly delved his forefinger under the flap of the envelope. He did not get very far however.
"What, if I may ask, do you think you are doing, Professor!" He had forgotten that the women folk were still standing about and graced Minerva with a coy smirk.
"I am about to discover who is lying in the hospital, Professor McGonagall," he answered poignantly.
"Sir, that letter has not been addressed to you, and should thus be opened by the addressee only," Minerva's complexion was becoming blotchy as she tried to keep her temper under tight control.
Severus was not phased a bit as his finger continued its journey under the wax seal. With a quick movement he did not think Minerva to be capable of she snatched the letter from his grasp.
"We can not read Albus' mail! Have you ever heard of owl fraud, Severus?"
"In times as these, owl fraud, as you call it, is farthest from my mind," he retorted sardonically.
He watched Minerva place the letter safely within her robes with a challenging quirk of her eye brows, and decided that nothing was important enough to dig out from the witches clothing. 'I will simply have to do this manually,' he thought sarcastically.
"It seems you leave me no other choice." Turning on his heels he walked out of the small office, Minerva hot on his heels.
"Severus, I implore you NOT to do something stupid." He sent her a cold look down his nose as he made his way back to the girl's bedside. While ignoring the Deputy Headmistress he leaned over the shivering body, lightly placing two fingers to her carotid artery at the base of her neck and feeling the strong and steady current of blood beneath her skin. His hand moved upwards settling lightly on delicate eyelids lifting them to reveal fully dilated pupils, confirming what he had thought all along. Madam Pomfrey's patient had slipped into another level of consciousness and could not be roused from her body's forced slumber. He straightened his upper body and turned to face the women behind him with blank expression.
"I will have to Astral Project," he told them without preamble.
"You will WHAT?" Professor McGonagall looked as if she was about to have a major aneurism, her nostrils flaring madly and her eyes bugging out of her head. 'Definitely not very flattering for her complexion,' Severus mused.
"Astral whatsies?" Madam Pomfrey had no idea what in the world they were discussing, but understood that it was NOT in the girl's best interest.
"This…heathen here," she paused to take in a shaky breath, "has suggested to forcibly enter the child's mind with the means of his own soul!"
Poppy frowned at Minerva, while Severus busied himself with levitating a vacant hospital bed next to the occupied one.
"Are we not talking about a form of Legilimency?"
"Legilimency is only successful under certain conditions; being in a state of consciousness is one of them. If I would perform the spell I would only find myself faced with a dead wall of darkness." Severus spoke slowly as if to educate the feeble minded; Poppy did not rise to the bait.
"So what is it you propose to do then?" The nurse was loosing the little patience she possessed.
"Instead of my mind penetrating hers, it will be my soul in its place."
Madam Pomfrey's jaw dropped, as she watched the dark man arrange himself on her hospital bed. 'He really HAS lost his marbles,' she thought uncharitably before finding her voice to object.
"Not on my watch, good sir!" She hissed at him folding her arms in front of her frame.
"I fully agree with Poppy on this, Severus. We should wait for Dumbledore's return and not attempt something that will rid your body of its soul, as black as it may seem." She added that last bit for effect and only got a small lift of his derisive brow in return.
"As…touching…as I find your display, ladies, I have made up my mind on this matter. If this person has been sent by the Dark Lord to infiltrate Hogwarts there will be no measure to the consequences her presence may have." Severus pierced each woman with his penetrating gaze before continuing in a soft, lilting voice. "We have to search for and eliminate any threats to the inhabitants of this castle and the longer we postpone the inevitable the less time we will have to act accordingly." He concluded his dialogue with a dramatic shift of his body, lying flat on his back with his long robes settling perfectly around his frame.
Madam Pomfrey determinedly walked up to the side of his bed, leaning ominously over him bringing her face inches from his own. Her eyes were flashing while her voice dripped with false sincerity
"If you, Professor Snape, harm this girl in any way shape or form while you are 'gathering' your supposed information, I will personally see to it that your soul does not make it back to your body! Do we have an understanding?"
Severus looked up into her slit eyes with a touch of amusement forced his muscles into a rare, but small, smile. He never knew he had a female equivalent.
Madam Pomfrey did not know what to make of the professor, especially when he attempted to smile. Without knowing it he had just single-handedly taken all the wind out of her sail and shocked her into silence. She was still thinking about the utter wrongness of Severus Snape's facial movement as two strong hands pulled her away from his vicinity and sat her down in a chair at the end of his bed.
"I am sure that Severus understands the repercussions." Minerva was still miffed, but could not help her own lips form an amused smile. She knew that there was truth in what the Potions Master was saying, thus allowing him to proceed with this madness of 'soul searching' he was about to commit. She hoped dearly that the girl was not hiding anything sinister from him and settled herself to watch in a second chair at the foot of her bed.
Severus began to clear his mind fully and inhaling deeply, filling the spongy lung tissue to its fullest capacity and releasing it slowly. After a few breaths he began to hold it for as long as he could, feeling the pressure in his lungs trying to burst forth and rejuvenate with fresh oxygen. Slowly, he released his pent-up breath through his mouth, inhaling deeply once more a second, third, and fourth time, lightheadedness overtaking his senses. His eyes were fixed on the ceiling of the infirmary, his mind cleared, and body relaxed as he took another rib-cracking inhalation and holding it until he could see little white dots glittering and blurring his vision. When he released his breath this time he expelled it forcefully still staring unblinkingly at the spot on the ceiling. He could feel a familiar tingling sensation creeping through his body as he took another breath, holding it, and expelling it only after the edges of his vision were shrouded in inky blackness. With the rush of air flowing over his lips he could feel himself detach and float, his gaze never wavering from the white ceiling until it seemed to come closer.
The tingling sensation continued to course through him as he shifted his essence slightly to find his target lying next to his own body right below him. He focused all of his energy onto the girl's forehead as he rushed, as if falling, toward her limp body. As he entered she tensed, drawing in a noisy breath that seemed to catch in her throat lifting her upper body involuntarily. As the girl's breathing evened out Minerva and Poppy watched a small, spidery silver thread began to weave itself from her temple to his.
"The connection has been made," Minerva whispered to Poppy. "And now we have no choice but to wait."
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The falling sensation had a nauseating effect, forcing him to close his eyes and brace himself for the inevitable impact. Fortunately, the laws of gravity did not apply in the human mind, as his feet gracefully touched soft ground. He opened his eyes and took a few breaths to steady his churning stomach and becoming acutely aware of his unfamiliar surroundings. The sweet fragrance of spring-fresh grass after an April downpour filled his nostrils in a powerful rush.
'She must like the smell of rain,' he thought cynically, as he familiarized himself with the surroundings. He was standing on a small clearing covered in lush emerald-green grass that glistened with freshly fallen rain drops. About fifty paces before him was a small forest shrouded in heavy, rolling fog. Severus tried to adjust his eyes to the dusky light that surrounded him when he heard the rolling of thunder from behind. His eyes quickly darted to the heavy blue-black clouds that were stirring in a counterclockwise motion emitting angry flashes of lighting and booming claps of thunder. He understood quickly enough that the darkness of the clouds were closing in quickly on the dimming light where he stood. He had to find her, and quickly before she tried to expel him from this place.
He set out silently toward the heavily wooded area of the forest, spotting a small break in the clouds to the north of him above the giant tree tops. The sun seemed to enter there at a sharp angle while the clouds swirled around it; he had found her hiding place and homed in on it with heavy, long strides of determination. The forest was dense, thick with underbrush and near impassible. He swore under his breath when his knee made hard contact with a four-year-old oak sapling along the way. Even though he was not connected with his own body he still felt the pain shooting up his thigh, darkening his already bad mood.
'The chit better be worth it," he thought uncharitably.
It seemed like bloody ages before his dark surroundings seemed to become a bit lighter, shy beams of sunshine breaking through the verdant foliage. He cautiously stepped over a fallen tree trunk and tried to be as noiseless as possible approaching the sun-drenched clearing. He could hear the soft trickling of water nearby as he hid in the shadow of a spruce. His obsidian eyes quickly rested on the solitary figure basking in the sunlight by a small terracotta fountain, her feet dipping leisurely into its sapphire depths.
She was clad in a simple white gown that extended primly down to her ankles, but currently hiked up mid calf. Severus' eyes wandered up her form and lingered on slightly upturned lips and then her auburn hair turned fiery by the sun's caresses. He raised a mocking brow.
'The chit thinks very highly of herself.'
He pushed himself from his hiding place and slowly entered the clearing. He knew that he would encounter a defense mechanism of some sort; probably a bolt of lightning that would hit him from above thrusting him out of her mind and into his own body. He took a few more steps toward her turned back before stopping dead in his tracks his expression turning grim, jaw clenched. Amongst the soft rush of water he could hear something more malignant and threatening and turned his head infinitesimally to the right. He was staring into the red eyes of the biggest, shaggiest, and Merlin help him, meanest dog he had ever seen. The animal was growling at him menacingly showing off three perfect rows of serrated teeth that glistened with anticipation.
'Impressive defenses,' he mused to himself.
The soft voice of the girl interrupted his thoughts and the dogs growling.
"Peaches, you silly thing!"
'Peaches? What a bloody stupid name for a killing machine such as this. Well, then again FLUFFY was a crazed choice as well…wait a minute, if this is her defense mechanism then why did she just call it off?'
The 'beast' looked at its mistress balefully, probably in reaction to having been called by such a silly name, and slowly trotted over to her side, Severus' eyes following its every move.
"I was wondering when you would be here."
He sharply looked at her with a penetrating stare. She had spoken softly and that damnable smile was still caressing her coral lips. Coral lips? What the hell was he thinking? And…why in the name of all that was holy did she act as if she knew him?
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Author's Note: Well, if you have read this far and have NOT reviewed…well then…NO MORE SNAPEY-GOODNESS FOR YOU! Teehee! Please review!
Thank you to all of those who have though: lucidity, LKLTB, Eva Moon, ThouandI, Nova Viper, Secret x, Minty Soda! I get so happy when I see the messages in my in-box saying that you guys reviewed! Thank you!
Also, Mysticsong1978 has made some fantastic fan-art that you can view from her homepage. Just click on the link and then search for the gallery. If you want you can join our yahoo group and read small tidbits on chapters in progress. Just click on MY homepage from my profile.