Potions: What Would a Girl Do Without Them?
by Slave4Severus
Disclaimer: I own the Lord of Rockbridge, nothing else.
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Severus blinked uncharacteristically as he stared at the young woman before him. 'Peaches' had made his way to her side and docilely sat on his haunches watching him, ready to leap at his throat if the need called for it. She serenely petted the top of the dog's head stopping behind its ears, giving them a good scratch.
"He is only trying to protect me. He does not know…"
He watched her smile at him, a faint blush creeping onto her milky skin. All he wanted to do was ask her what that thing did NOT know, but he refrained from veering off the main reason he was here.
"Who are you?" he asked in a low and menacing voice, his eyes having turned to black slits as he studied her reaction.
Her forehead wrinkled in slight concern. "Odd, you have never asked me that before."
'Before?' Something was going on here that Severus must have missed. Was the chit mentally challenged in some way?
He stopped his thoughts as she gracefully got up from her seat and slowly walked toward him. With every step she took the sun was becoming dimmer around them until the clouds shielded every last ray from the clearing. Severus looked up in alarm and awaited the lightning to strike any minute. He was cursing himself for not asking more questions when he had the time.
The lightning did not come however as darkness fell around them. He was so absorbed in the changes taking place in their surroundings that he physically leaped back a few paces when he felt two small hands stroking the front of his robes. Out of instinct he grabbed her wrists in a vise-like grip; stopping any type of movement as her features disappeared in the murkiness that permeated the area.
If Severus was not holding on to her he would have thought himself alone in the blackness; the only sound the screaming of his beating heart as he waited for her mind to make its next decision. He could hear her ragged breathing; her hands resting limply in his grip were cold as ice.
His sense of smell was the first to awaken in the darkness as he took a deep breath with intentions to lacerate with his wounding Celtic tongue. There was a subtle odor swirling up from her person which seemed oddly familiar. He inhaled deeply once again, smelling and tasting the new sensory input presented to him.
Severus identified the scent at once as poached Ashwinder eggs and stewed oysters; a combination only used in love potions and their derivatives. He could hear the faint rustling of trees in the distance as the scene she chose took the form of a meadow with a forest to his left and a building of some sort to his right. He scrutinized the façade of the house finding it oddly familiar, but was not able to place his finger on any particular memory. A perfectly rounded, bright moon crowned over the tops of the trees illuminating the structure from the front.
Flint Manor.
An icy realization gripped him as he slowly turned back to the chit plastered against his chest; he has lived through this episode before.
Severus' eyes widened, his breath hitched, and his nostrils flared.
He was facing the impudent creature he encountered on this very spot over a year ago.
'Bloody Hell!'
Remembering what he had done the last time he was in this situation he cursed himself for not having realized how young she really had been. Teaching her a lesson was the only thing on his mind. Merlin, he was relieved that she was not one of his students. He could feel her step between his legs pressing her thigh strategically against his groin. He swore to himself once more, sealing his lips tightly to stifle his body's treacherous reaction that dared to surface from the depths of his chest.
The bloody twit had tried to poison him! With a love potion no less! Him! A man who could identify odorless poisons in mere seconds! She was hiding something and he would find out what it was exactly…and had she really planned on seducing him? His eyebrow quirked at the possibility.
Not that she would have gotten very far…
"Who sent you?" he hissed threateningly as he brought his face down closer for effect.
He could feel her hips rotating against him invitingly as he suppressed an annoyed groan. He stilled her movements with a tight grip of his hands, anchoring her to him. He stared down at her face with interest as the moonlight played with the tendrils of her hair illuminating her porcelain complexion. A small smile graced her lips.
Sweet Merlin! She was not even fazed by him! What was the world coming to?
'Time to up the glare.'
"I will not repe"
"—eat myself, girl. Answer the question!"
She had the gall to giggle at him before curving those lips into a small smile. Oh, how he wished to dock points…
"What do you want?"
The question was clear and to the point. Severus was finished 'playing' her little mind games and grimly waited for her reply. If she took longer than thirty seconds to answer he would have to shake her soundly once more. He had no tolerance for arrant girls who did not do as they were told.
She had that look in her eyes again that made the phrase 'grinning like an idiot' come to mind.
"I want…"
"Speak up girl!"
Her hands were tightly gripping the front of his robes pulling him closer down for what he thought would be the explanation he was waiting for. Severus barely tilted his head to the side in hopes of hearing her whispered answer.
She was so close he could feel her hot breath along the side of his jaw as she spoke once more.
"I want…"
He did not know if it was her mind or his own that pushed him from her thoughts. When he analyzed his actions later he would never admit to himself that this waif of a girl actually 'forced' him to do anything, but deep down he had to admit that what she 'wanted' shocked the hell out of him.
One second he was staring at her upturned face and the next he found himself in a swirling vortex of nauseating images. He closed his eyes, awaiting the contact with his own body as he weightlessly floated toward his destination. He could feel a forceful tug around his waist and chest as he entered his own body, anchoring himself within, not unlike the pull of a portkey. Not entirely the same, but certainly just as unpleasant.
Severus came up sharply gasping for breath. The overwhelming feelings of dizziness and nausea forced him to lie back on his cot with his eyes closed. His breathing was harsh and irregular as he swallowed convulsively to keep the burning bile in the back of his throat to a minimum. He was not about to wretch on the infirmary floor; his fragile dignity would not allow it.
He was concentrating solely on evening out his breathing.
In…out…in…out.
For a split second he thought she had followed him into his own mind as his heightened senses once again detected two hands grabbing the front of his robes. His eyes flew open as he pushed at the offending figure before him.
"Unhand me!" he snarled viciously, detecting a hint of panic himself, before he realized that it was Madame Pomfrey and not the girl.
Without another word and a faint blush tingeing his pale complexion he got up from the bed, righting his frock with a sharp pull. If he could only manage to focus all of his energy on making it to the fireplace he could attempt a dignified exit. He needed the solace that only his private chambers could give him and hoped that the two women would let him pass without question. With an icy glare and ramrod spine he strode out of their midst. Thankfully, he was spared any inane questions and made it to the other side of the infirmary without interruption. Severus' trembling fingers reached for the small dish of Floo powder, extracting a pinch of the chalky substance, and throwing it into the fire. While he felt the usual fast spinning in the network, the roaring in his ears had been replaced by the repetition of the girl's shocking sentence.
"I want…you!"
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"Did he just say 'unhand me'?"
"Yes."
"Thought he did."
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She was in heaven.
Pure, dark, musty, restricted heaven.
Hermione poured over the tenth Dark Arts book, skillfully flipping through its pages, running her index finger lightly over the yellowed parchment. To her right she had a stack of notes on possible explanations for Harry's condition and to her left various pages summarizing each book she had researched from; she would file these away for later use. She could not help feeling slightly annoyed as Madam Pince disturbed the silence with the clicking of her sensible, black pumps.
"Miss Granger." The librarian's soft voice sounded incensed.
'Harry and Ron must have tried to get back here again.' She thought uncharitably.
"Misters Potter and Weasley would like a word with you. Please inform them that the Restricted Section is out of bounds and if I catch them trying to sneak in again I will have to assign detention."
"Thank you, Madam Pince. I will advise them momentarily." She plastered a little smile on her lips and lowered her eyes meekly while gathering up her notes and replacing the books lovingly on their respective shelves. With an almighty heave she loaded her Rucksack onto her shoulders and hunched out into the main bowels of the Library.
Weaving her way slowly through the stacks she spotted her two best friends sitting at a secluded desk, looking rather uncomfortable. Harry seemed obviously exhausted while Ron…well he just seemed out of place amongst any type of book. He had perfected the bibliophobic stare years ago.
The boys finally noticed her walking towards them and looked much relieved, though neither of them stood to help her get the monstrosity off her back. She raised a mental brow before thinking that chivalry truly HAS died.
"Alright there, 'Mione?"
"Did you find anything?"
What kind of a question was that? Of course she found something! Didn't she ALWAYS find something? Honestly! She removed her Rucksack and searched for her notes.
"Yes, I found loads on residual magic and curse scars." She sat down heavily on the vacant chair between them. "Now, before I begin what did you find out from Professor Krieger?"
After a VERY short recap that left much to be desired she began from the very beginning; might as well explain to Ron what residual magic was once more. Ron finally nodded with comprehension, or at least she perceived enough of a neck movement prompting her to move on to the next topic.
"I have mainly been focusing on why Harry was the one channeling the negative energy and not Madam Pomfrey or Professor Snape. They were the only ones to our knowledge that had immediate interactions with her." She scanned over her notes before continuing. "Most references pointed out that an overload of any type of residual magic will kill the witch or wizard in question. However, those cases are rare because it takes a number of spells to build up that kind of charge; the darker or unforgivable the spell the more residue that is left behind. The vessel that is used to depolarize or neutralize this state has to be connected to the victim in some way. This connection must not only by physical but there has to be a metaphysical component as well."
Hermione took a deep breath registering the slight confusion on the boys' faces.
"Metaphysical?"
Hermione sighed. "Ron, look it up in a dictionary."
After seven years of constantly having to educate him she was finally losing her patience. 'This must be what Professor Snape feels like every day of his life.' She mentally shook herself and continued where she had left off.
"Now, the night before she arrived here at Hogwarts you had been incapacitated by another one of your nightmares, in which you obviously dreamed about certain happenings that included her. Correct?"
Harry nodded in agreement.
"I believe that your dream has connected you to her plight on a subconscious level, forcing you to be the receptacle of her bodies 'waste material' so to speak."
"Urgh! You're her bog, Mate!"
"Ron!" Both Hermione and Harry hissed at him in unison, effectively cutting off any further interruptions.
"That is not all. The fact that both of you are carrying the same scar could have something to do with it as well. It kind of makes you two kindred in someway."
"Do you think that Voldemort gave her the scar on her neck?" Harry was thinking about the smaller version that he had seen and furrowed his brow in thought.
"I am not sure Harry, but we don't know of any other people with a scar like that. What are the odds that it was inflicted by someone other than You-Know-Who?"
The three friends looked at one another in thought before Hermione continued.
"What if the creation of her scar had a similar effect on Voldemort as mine did?"
"This opens a whole new can of worms, doesn't it?" Hermione sighed heavily. "I think we need to go and talk to Professor Dumbledore about this. He should be able to explain things properly." She got up from her seat and packed away her notes. "Right after you go back to the infirmary for a second check-up. You haven't been looking well all day."
Ron wholeheartedly agreed on that as he got up as well, brushing aside Hermione's hands from her Rucksack in the process.
"Let's go and get some dinner first. I'm starved!" He lifted the back with ease and draped it over his right shoulder. "And I am expecting you to eat more than you did at lunch Harry."
Hermione who had just been surprised by Ron's actions tried to stifle a grin to no avail. Harry darkly stared at Ron's retreating back before muttering, "Yes, Mrs. Weasley."
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The double doors of the infirmary silently opened on their own accord admitting Headmaster Dumbledore, who strode purposefully toward Madam Pomfrey's office, doors closing behind him without any indication of being touched. The usual jovial attitude that surrounded the Headmaster had vanished, replaced by the brooding and calculating man that had sparked fear in the most evil of wizards. He softly rapped on the office door and entered before he had been asked to do so, softly closing it with a thud behind him.
Madam Pomfrey was just in the process of serving Minerva a good cup of strong tea with a dash of her special elixir. Albus knew of course that she plied the strained nerves of her colleagues with Kräuterschnapps.
"Good evening Ladies." He bowed slightly as he walked across the small room and accepted a non-laced cup from Poppy's hands, shifting his attention to Minerva's grave expression.
"I came as soon as I could Minerva. What exactly has happened?"
Dumbledore transfigured himself a nice, plushy, red armchair that he promptly sank into before giving the Deputy Headmistress his full attention. Minerva placed her tea cup on Poppy's desk and folded her trembling hands in her lap.
"The oddest thing happened this morning Albus. Someone actually penetrated the school wards and flew through the southern bay window of the Great hall."
Albus raised a bushy white brow and looked at her over his spectacles before motioning her to continue. It took both women, Poppy would add a few comments here or there, about thirty minutes to fully convey the bizarre happenings of the day, concluding with Severus' abrupt departure an hour ago. Since then they had kept a close vigil over their charge, who seemed to be most distressed by the Potions Masters invasion of her mind, panting and moaning incoherently.
"Along with the potion vials Severus found this." Minerva presented him with a very thick envelope splattered with dried blood, which he gravely took from her.
"Before I read this, I would like to know what the extent of her injuries were."
Poppy pulled out her patient's file and began to read off the various ailments that she had been treating all day.
"Well, let me see what we have here. She has been hit with the following curses: the Blood Boiling Curse, Cruciatus Curse, Slicing Hex, an unidentifiable curse that hit the back of her head, Stupefy, and finally the Killing Curse, which left a small scar on the side of her neck. Abrasions are as follows: both knees, superficial scrapes on face and neck, and 394 small fragments of glass from the window she came through. She has suffered from four bruised and broken ribs, lacerated lungs and spleen, severe bruising on thighs, chest, arms, wrists, neck, and right eye. She had a double-fractured jaw bone, a contusion on the right side of her head, and deep lacerations on her lower back, left shoulder, and the base of her skull, which caused a moderate to severe concussion. All this is rounded off with four frostbitten fingers, one dislocated right shoulder from the impact in the great hall, and various older injuries that have not been mended to my satisfaction, such as a fractured femur, right ankle, dislocated left shoulder, not to mention the dangerously high fever that has been racking her body since early this morning."
The unbearable silence that followed her speech spoke volumes. All three adults could hardly believe that the girl was even among the living, let alone recovering, after such a harrowing ordeal. Minerva was the first to speak.
"Severus believes that she has been sent here with dubious intent."
"It is hard to say at this point what the meaning was behind her dramatic arrival. However, I will read the missive she has delivered under hopes that it will shed more light on this situation."
Madam Pomfrey got up from her chair and walked toward the door. "I will leave both of you here then, while I check on my patient." With a soft swish of her skirts she departed the office, leaving Albus with his letter and Minerva with a full bottle of Kräuterschnapps.
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To: Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
From: Farrell A. Flint, Lord and Family Head
If you're reading this, it means that my most precious possession has made it to Hogwarts and my wife and I have not; we are probably dead at the hands of a Death Eater attack instigated and lead by either Lucius Malfoy or Severus Snape, the closest Beloved of the Dark Lord's circle. Please find a gentle way to break this news to my darling daughter, as I know she will be devastated by the loss.
I would like to begin by explaining my actions to you, even though it seems too late now for forgiveness. As you may recall I left your institution after my seventh year and promptly followed my father's footsteps into the services of the Dark Lord. I had been brought up thinking that his way was the right and only way to serve the greater good. I would be lying if I denied having spilled the blood of innocent victims; wizard or muggle alike. These sins are what I will have to pay for in the afterlife, I am sure of it. For years after my initiation I did not think anything wrong with my actions as blood thirsty or wrong as they seem to me now. I loved the chase and kill of muggles and muggle-born witches and wizards alike, and that thirst only grew over the years. The Dark Lord used me as his intimate contact abroad and sent me off into the farthest places of the earth in order to generate new followers for his noble cause. I was barely in England long enough to consummate the marriage my father had forced upon me before I was required to depart once more. Over the months I returned home only in duty to my young wife, who had been forced into our union just as much as I had. Over a two year span we progressed from a state of quiet contempt to the fragile beginnings of a true marriage.
But then something happened. Something that I would never have thought possible and when I unwittingly let down my guard it felt like a giant fist that had forced itself with wrenching precision into my gut. My wife bore me the most beautiful and perfect daughter any man could ever wish for. And it was then, when I held the pink, wrinkled, screaming infant in my hands that I decided to change. For the first time in my life, I knew what it meant to love someone unconditionally, and it was this love that prompted me to act accordingly.
It seemed during the hour of her birth that many events happened in rapid succession. Firstly, my entire childhood flashed before my eyes and I have to say that I was left wanting. My father had been a cruel disciplinarian and I vowed to my daughter right then and there that I would never raise my hand to her for any reason; a promise I have kept over the past 17 years. Secondly, I did not want to expose her to the concept of the Dark Lord as I had been since childhood. I wanted her to make her own decisions based on life and not have the shadow of finality loom over her head. I had also seen what the Dark Lord did during his initiation process of Death Eater daughters and the process that used to delight me to no end seemed the most vial act of debauchery I had ever had the displeasure of witnessing. My daughter would not become a brood mare for the Death Eater masses; another vow I have kept. Lastly, a whole other form of life flashed in rapid succession before me; the life that every father now tries to shield their daughters from. My bachelorhood.
Within the first few hours of her life I susepted my child to various spells that would conceal her existence to the world around us. I was even contemplating on shielding her from the rest of my family, but decided that it would be in her best interest to meet and interact with them, knowing she would not be exposed to outside stimuli. They too were placed under a spell, so complex that they only remembered her at the Flint family manor, but conveniently forgot she existed the minute they stepped past the powerful wards. It seems in the end that my family has been my ultimate downfall.
I was cautious and wary to begin with amongst my Death Eater companions, and with every year that passed I disliked their revels and raids more and more, distancing myself from physically having to participate in their blood sport. I do not expect it of you to understand my reasoning to not fully turn to the light all these years ago, but my primary objective had been to stay alive to watch my daughter grow up. I lived within shades of grey for thirteen years not fully serving the dark side and not crossing over to the light either. The eve of my daughter's fourteenth birthday, though, thrust me forward into the quest of aiding the light defeat the Dark Lord once and for all. It was a usual summoning that night. The mark burned like hot daggers into my skin as I donned the required attire and readied myself to apparate to the Dark Lord's location, when I was stopped by the slight figure of my child clutching my robes and thanking me for her 'furry, little' present she had received. Not thinking too much on it I departed, vanishing into the darkness to join my Lord. That evening was spent at yet another revel, where the blood of the innocent flowed crimson for hours. After the customary pillaging and raping of muggles and muggle-born, a higher ranking Death Eater approached the Dark Lord with an offering to be made in his name. Little did I know that this 'offering' was the man's young, teenaged daughter who was more than unhappy to be there. The Dark Lord rose and thanked the man for gifting his daughter's virtue to one of his high ranking Beloved and promptly summoned me and Severus Snape to his side. Needless to say that it was I who had the displeasure of breaking the girl in, and have suffered nightmares ever since. She was not older than fourteen herself.
Since then I have been an undercover informant for certain individuals in the Ministry of Magic, anonymously of course. I have never regretted my choice of turning on the Dark Lord, I only wish that I could have been more of an asset to the cause. Though it deeply saddens me that I will not see my daughter grow into the remarkable woman she will no doubtedly become, I leave this earth with the knowledge that at least one innocent has been spared by my tainted hands.
In parting, I hope you will grant a dead man's final wish. I am asking you, Albus Dumbledore, to be the solicitor of my final Will and Testament to be found in the next pages of this letter. I know that I have been a very black sheep who has never truly been part of your fold, but you are the only one that I can trust in my postmortem need. The most important issue at hand is keeping Alanna safe, for the Dark Lord will not want to give up the chance on avenging my betrayal. Hogwarts is the safest place for her to be, and I beg you to keep her safe.
Gratefully yours,
Farrell A. Flint, Lord of Rockbridge
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Author's Note: Hey there everyone! Sorry that I left you with a cliffie in the last chapter and made you wait this long. Please don't flog me! As always, a big shout out to all of my reviewers! WEIRD SISTER you owe me a cookie..to be delivered by email if you please. Teehee! Other sweets are welcomed too.
Thank you to Mysticsong1978 my wonderful beta.
Also, go read the great fic by HazelVervain! It's worth it I promise.
Now, I am writing on the next chapter…see you soon!
P.S. Kräuterschnapps –German; similar to Jaegermeister