A dark dungeon surrounded a single person, leaning over a steaming cauldron. Slim pale hands reached for a metal rod and stirred it carefully and in a perfectly even pace. The colour of the potion turned from dark grey to a bright green and wisps of blue steam rose from the liquid and popped one wand length over the surface with a soft sound. The dark figure nodded to himself, the complicated part of the potion was done, now he turned his mind to other things, while his hands kept working. The long spider-like fingers picked up the long knife and started cutting the well-measured imp-root into fine slices. His mind was wandering and his forehead frowned a little.
Narcissa had played him, she had played him well and the worst of it was he hadn't seen it coming. He gripped his knife a little tighter when he thought about it. It should have been obvious. She would have never been so blunt in coming directly to him in hope for his compassion. Yes, they were...well more like had been, friends but she also knew that he would stick with Lucius and not her. Especially after she had placed herself with Black. His mind turned bitter when he thought about his old nemesis.
Severus hated all the four bullies from his school years but with varying degrees. Lupin was mostly okay, he never really played a part other than the person to tell Potter and Black off. He would tell them to let it go when they got too bad and that's it. Pettigrew was the least annoying, mostly because he was weak. Like a sniffling rat, he had carefully placed himself close to the big dogs in Gryffindor and used them for protection. Severus knew he had been mostly the lookout, too weak and too fearful to contribute to the bullying. The fat boy was too afraid of retaliation to really do anything. Yet, he had earned a lot more hate in the last couple of weeks, at Black's trial. To think that this bastard was a spy for the Dark Lord and that he had given the secret of Lily and ...him away was something that had made him drop even further in Severus esteem. He hated Potter but wanting him dead? No, Severus wanted him to be humiliated, as he had been, wanted him broken, wanted him to see the girl he loved on the arm of the man he hated as Severus had endured. And that Lily had died due to that betrayal was worse. Severus had gotten over his broken heart, due to his childhood crush marrying his mortal enemy but he had still liked Lily. She had been a good and smart woman and her death still stung in his chest. So Pettigrew had been responsible for her death and therefore deserved whatever the Ministry did to him.
Potter himself Severus had a pretty damn problematic mindset about. He had been a bully, a thief and an arrogant asshole. Obnoxious and so overconfident it was sickening. Also, him getting Lily had burned a long time in Severus' heart and he had hated him. Yet the man had died, fighting the Dark Lord and that was impressive. His overeager courage was bad as it could get. And yet Severus had to admire him. He had seen the Dark Lord, Merlin, he had been a follower of his. Severus didn't think of himself as a coward but he never had tried to leave his service. He was too afraid of that.
Severus had come to the Dark Lord as a young man, desperate and heartbroken. He had nowhere to go and was angry. Angry at the world for the life he lived. He had been turned down for an apprenticeship in potions because he had corrected the master on incorrect brewing procedure. Severus Snape wasn't the best of duelers, not a great Charms Master and was pants in Transfiguration, but he was a one in a million potioneer. The Dark Lord had realized that and taken him under his wing. At first, Severus had been thrilled. With the Dark Lord and his connections, it had only taken three days and Severus was the apprentice of one of the best Potions Masters in all of the UK. He then had learned and researched and only a year later he was a Master himself, in fact, the youngest Potions Master of the last century. The Dark Lord had been there, pulling the strings and giving Severus everything. Slowly but steady, like a spider he had spun the young man in his web, making him dependent and feeding his anger.
Then the requests had started, first small like a strengthening potion or a minor healing potion. Healing potions turned to stronger ones, turned to Veritaserum and finally turning to poison. When Severus had finally realized what he had signed up for, it was too late. The Dark Lord had told him what all these potions were for and Severus knew there was blood on his hands, a lot of it. After that, he had hoped, hoped that the Dark Lord would go away. He hoped so much that Dumbledore would face of the Dark Lord and send him to the grave. Never in a billion years would he have imagined that his school bully's son would bring down the man, saving him from the Dark Lord. But it happened, saving him and he was grateful.
Yet that moment when the boy had walked in front during the sorting Snape had felt his own stomach turn. That boy looked exactly like the man that had bullied him, that had humiliated him and stole the girl he had loved back in the day. Severus couldn't help himself, he knew he was mean to the boy but there was nothing. He saved him a few times during the first year to settle the debt he felt for being freed from the Dark Lords grasp, but that was it.
And how did that brat return the gesture? He was exactly the same arrogant bastard that his father had been, showing no regard to rules or authority, sneaking around the castle, poisoning two of his Slytherin, Severus just knew that Potter was behind Crabbe's and Goyle's strange sleep in the second year and many things more. The end of last year was the straw that broke the camels back. That and saving Black!
Black was the worst back then a downright cruel bastard. He always used every excuse to curse Severus, punched him thrice and then there was the time when he had tried to feed him to Lupin! The man deserved his jail and now he was free and apparently god-like or something because like the rich kid he had been, he got everything he wanted. He had walked free and now had control in the Wizengamot! That bastard had taken everything now. And probably like during school the asshole would act as if he hated it! As if anyone would believe that in any way.
Severus squeezed the contents of an earth fruit into the cauldron and picked the rod back up. His stirring was a little unsteady when he thought about the fact that that bastard also orchestrated the board of governors to put him on god damn probation. Like it wasn't hard enough to control the dumb dunderheads and their behaviour, who thought they were entitled to so much and like the world wasn't mean in reality. What was even meant by proper conduct? Did they expect him to coddle the damn buffoons? Or to really read these teaching books at the end of the letter?
Severus mind was still with these thoughts when a knock echoed from the door. Professor Snape raised his eyes to the clock at the wall. Right on time that would be the Potter boy. Severus didn't turn his eyes from the cauldron, putting lid on it. He then called out, so the boy opened the door. Severus tried to keep himself from sneering. Potter came in like a beaten dog, his eyes down, his hand under that pouch. He held it like a lion mother who's cub was hurt. A little separation wasn't that bad, but apparently once again coddling and all this, just on a low level. The boy gritted his teeth, careful not to look at Severus.
"Good evening Professor." he pressed out and Severus almost reluctantly admired the boys restraint. He knew the boy hated him, he really really did. Not that Severus cared a lot, Hate wasn't all that important to him. Better to be feared than to be a laughing stock. And he worked hard so the students feared him. That would be over now all because that little boy ran crying to his bully of a godfather.
Yet Severus shook his head. A true Slytherin never cried about spilt milk and this was the way it was now. Better to get this quickly over with.
"My apologies for your past detentions this week...Lord Peverell." Severus had to press out this rather short apology really quick because it sickened him to do something so embarrassing. Narcissa probably imagined something more elaborate than this, but that was all the boy would get here. Potter raised his head, looking at him bewildered.
"You will now clean these cauldrons. Place your things on that desk over there." Severus added before the boy could ask any questions. The desk in question was in the same room only a few feet away from where the boy would clean the cauldrons. Potter just blinked at him, staring like he was a strange monster with three heads. Severus turned his back on the boy, not wanting to look over and pointed at the cauldrons.
"Did I speak unclearly Peverell? Move!" Behind him, he heard rustling when Potter scrambled to do his bidding. Severus walked over to his desk again, lifting the lid from his cauldron; he continued to work on his potion. For quite some time it was silent in the room, only the sound of Severus working and the boy scrubbing the cauldron. The repetitive sounds were calming at least but then the quiet was broken when a loud chirping sound came from the possessions of the boy. Severus looked up. The small black phoenix had wiggled its way out of the pouch and stood at the edge of the desk. The bird chirped again, fluttering its wings while staring at the boy. Severus turned his head to the said boy, who had stopped scrubbing and now looked back and forth between Phoenix and professor. Severus gave Potter a cold glare and pointed at the familiar.
"Pick up your bird and return to your work, you aren't here to stare at me." He snarled. A day ago this would have meant new detention but he knew he had to be careful at the moment with Potter and his damn bird. Potter shot him a glance like he was trying to figure out if this was a trap and rose, quickly walking over. He strapped the pouch to his chest and placed the noisy bird in it. The boy again shot him a glance and Severus did the best to ignore it. If he didn't he may hex the boy and that would be problematic. Being a Slytherin meant adapting and always seeking out the best outcome. At the moment he would need to bide his time and take care of it later. Severus cut the ginger root and its leaves, adding them to the potion. He lowered the temperature to a small flame and stirred. Most books would tell you to keep the temperature consistent but that was only for people who had no idea what they were doing. For people like him, for the real masters, this was the way to go. You could strengthen the effect of the potion when you lowered the temperature at this moment because it wouldn't burn most of the more potent ingredients and maximize the effect. This was one of the many many adjustments Severus had made to a potion. It was like he told his classes, potions were fine art and most were too clumsy, like Longbottom, too dumb, like Crabbe and Goyle he had to admit or too uninterested like Potter and Weasley, to truly admire the beauty of the cauldron, the greatness that you could feel while stirring. It was liberating standing behind his cauldron, adding a few ingredients and with the right movement and timing, you could create miracles.
Severus firmly believed there was a potion for everything and every problem could be solved with a potion if only you could find out what the recipe was. You could kill any foe you wanted, you could find a cure for every disease if you wanted to and also there was the miracle of eternal life in the art of potioneering even though it wasn't a goal followed by Severus.
A knock on the door once again stopped the scrubbing of the cauldrons. Severus turned his head and saw Potter glancing over at the door from the corner of his eye. While he had to be careful the boy was still in detention with him.
"Don't slack off, Peverell." He scolded the thin boy. Potter ducked his head and resumed scrubbing, while Severus once again put the lid on the cauldron and walked over to the door with billowing robes. When he pulled it open an old man was standing in front of him.
Severus had never seen the man, he was leaned over, holding a cane. His hair was white like new snow and his eyes almost golden. He looked a little frail and weak and smiled up at Severus. He wore simple yet elegant robes and extended a thin, almost skeletal hand.
"Hello, there young man. I take it you are Severus Snape, Hogwarts Potions Master?" The voice was surprisingly strong and confident, making Severus blink once. Severus nodded a stiff nod, staring at him.
"Yes. And you are?" He asked briskly, not really keen to know. Yet before he could answer a massive dark creature swooped over the shoulder of the man and into the room. A surprised yelp came from Potter and Severus turned his head, to follow the creature. It was a large dark bird with similar markings of glowing red and orange. The old man stepped around Severus like it was nothing that he intruded into his classroom and called out.
"Come back, girl." His cane clicked on the floor and Severus blinked again, when this man just rudely ignored him, something that rarely happened to Severus Snape. The greasy-haired potions Professor turned his eyes at Potter again. The large bird, which was obviously a phoenix has landed on the startled looking boy's shoulder and leaned down. The small bird in his pouch looked ecstatic, fluttering its wings and cooing almost painfully loud. The beak was clicking and clicking and a strong gust of wind swept through the room when the larger phoenix flapped its wings. It even swayed Severus' robes a bit far at the door. The old man walked over to the boy smiling.
"Oh, Harry I had no idea you were here." He stated with a smile.
Harry raised his eyes, staring at the man, trying not to fall over when the large phoenix on his shoulder leaned down again nipping at Dawn.
"Nicolas! What are you doing here?" He asked. The man named Nicolas chuckled smilingly before he sat down at one of the chairs.
"Ah Harry, my wife will take over the history class here at Hogwarts, because dear Albus couldn't find someone quickly right now. It will only be for this year but I thought I would visit my old friend and look around the castle, haven't been here in ages." He said with a slight chuckle again. Harry smiled brightly.
"Really? That is awesome. And this is?" He pointed at the phoenix on his shoulder. The old man smiled.
"That's Ember. She offered her ash for Dawn, so she is her mother in some way an-"
"Enough!" A snarling voice at the door cut their discussion short and Harry turned bright red. He had totally forgotten that Snape was there at all. The potions professor was glaring at both of them and stepped closer. His eyes were blazing and he stared at the old man.
"Who by Merlin do you think you are? This is my potions laboratory! So you better have a good explanation for disrupting Peverell's detention!" He hissed, striking his most imposing figure. But while most people shrank under his gaze, the old man just chuckled to himself while heaving himself from the chair.
"I'm deeply sorry for my rudeness, Mr Snape. I have heard a lot from some old friends of mine about your amazing talent with the good old cauldron. You remind me of Bargesh back in the day. He also had a rather stern way of handling things and was a true master of our trade you know." The man told him with such ease and Severus blinked. Bargesh was the name of a very renowned potioneer who invented Veritaserum and also many other major developments in the application of grey root. And there was a minor fact that he had died two hundred and three years ago. Severus blinked a little, while his mind slowly connected the dots. Didn't Potter say the man was called Nicolas?
"What is your name?" He asked carefully. The man smiled and bowed slightly before wincing and holding his back.
"Nicolas Flamel at your service." He smiled effortlessly. Severus stared at the man.
"Y...You are Nicolas Flamel?" He blurted out, for once totally forgetting his position, staring at the nodding man.
This man. That was Flamel? The most famous Alchemist in all of history? The legend amongst potioneers? Every, and Severus meant every, self-respecting potioneer admired the once in a millennia genius that was named Nicolas Flamel.
He was Severus' hero in the man's youth. He had read every book about him, learned all about him. He always wanted to be like the man he admired for so long. He had created so many potions, the stone was barely a footnote. The real contribution of Nicolas Flamel was the thousands of potions he had created over the centuries. Clearwater potion, mind quickening, green root elixir, Draught of dreamless sleep, Draught of the cold winter, Hunting Elixir, Shrinking Potion, Draught of numb pain, resolve potion and so many more. Yet due to his secluded lifestyle, there had been no picture of him what so ever. No one knew how he looked like and while Dumbledore talked about his friend a few times over the years, he never invited him to Hogwarts.
And now his hero, his legend was standing his lab, looking around with the curiosity of a keen-minded man. Severus quickly waved him down at the chair again.
"Please, be my guest. I'm sorry for my rudeness." He quickly stated, waving through the room. The old man smiled walking over to his desk. Harry forgotten by Snape at all, put down the sponge. The old man leaned over the cauldron and lifted the lid a little, smelling shortly.
"You are brewing Skele-Grow?" Nicolas raised his eyes up, looking at Severus with these eyes that showed centuries of age. How could he, who famed himself for his keen attention, not notice these eyes and what was showing in them, thought Severus. He stepped closer nodding, not showing his surprise that Flamel noticed what potion he was brewing by sniffing once. What else do you expect from a true genius?
"Yes, since many of these loud dunderheads break their bones around here, we always need some at hand." He answered with a low voice. He wasn't sure how he should react. This man was his hero. He was used to looking down at people not looking up to those he met. Flamel only smiled, leaning closer, while picking up a few of the ingredients. He turned a few herbs in his hand.
"I see you are using blue-grass. Recently my wife fell on the stairs and I had to brew a little myself. While I did, I came to think that flesh root would maybe work better than blue-grass, due to their similar properties but the higher heat resistance, what would you say Mister Snape?" Nicolas Flamel took the words, be my guest quite literally, as he started slicing some ginger root. Severus who ever since Lily had never shared his cauldron again was unsure how he felt about this. But who was he to decline Nicolas Flamel? Maybe it would be best not being a dunderhead himself and so he thought about Flamels idea. He nodded.
"You could be right Master Flamel. Their properties are quite similar, I'm just a little worried with their reaction with the dung beetle slices." He said after thinking about it. The old man looked up a little smiling, while he swiped it in.
"You would be right, I mean we both know what happens with a Dreamless Sleep Draught if you put Dung-Beetles in It." Both of them chuckled because the potion turns into a really disgusting smelling grey mass and the cauldron is unsalvageable. Snape frowned. He NEVER chuckled. He wasn't sure if he liked being so awestruck by meeting his hero.
"Yet again in the Gaily-Way Potion, they don't react with each other. I figured that the simple daisies that you put in are some kind of stabilizer and that prevents the potion from turning. So I don't see why it would be any different in this potion." Nicolas looked at him thoughtfully and it was downright nerve-wracking for Severus to have his legend asking him for his own opinion in this. Severus swallowed and nodded. Skele-Grow did contain daisy and if it worked it would create a much better potion, with less pain.
He stepped closer and looked over at his clock.
"I think it would be a perfect time to find out." He weighed some flesh root and dropped it in at the exact time. The potion made a high whistling tone that was new and boiled for a moment but before both men could flinch back it settled in the familiar dark green. Flamel smiled.
"Very well Mister Snape, I think that would seem we are right. But I must say, I am impressed." Flamel looked through the room. Severus' eyes followed his.
"I'm sorry Master Flamel I seem to not follow. What do you mean?" He asked carefully. Nicolas turned smiling.
"I'm impressed you are able to get such results with such dim lighting. I mean potions is a profession of detail, control and precision. I would have problems to generate good results in this light, but on the other hand, I'm getting old and my eyes aren't three hundred anymore so what do I know." Flamel laughed lightly while Snape stared at him. Having someone stating their age, while being over six hundred years old can be quite alarming. But Flamel didn't seem to be concerned with him not answering as he waved a little.
"But I shouldn't impose myself, I should leave you to it." He said, stepping back from the cauldron. Severus felt a little sting in his chest. This was too fascinating.
"You are not imposing at all Master Flamel." He quickly said. Flamel smiled.
"Oh, Mister Snape you don't need to lie for an old man. I know what it is like for someone to meddle with your cauldron, I cursed young Albus a few times for that. Or at least tried to. Also, I think you said Harry over there is still in detention with you. By the way my boy, what are you doing?" Severus followed the Flamels gaze when he suddenly remembered the boy. He had totally forgotten about him. This was even worse than he thought.
Potter was wrestling the large bird, trying to hold it away from his cleaned cauldrons. Flamel stepped closer, picking Ember from his arms. Potter sighed in relief.
"Thank you, Nicolas. She wanted to go to the cauldrons so bad, but I just cleaned them and I didn't want to have phoenix dust on them or I would have to redo all of it again." The boy said. Nicolas Flamel frowned, petting his majestic companion.
"Phoenix dust? There is no such thing Harry." He said. Severus' gut clenched a little. Harry's eyes shot to him for a moment.
"Are you sure?" He asked carefully. Flamel nodded.
"I'm pretty sure. I might not be the greatest in wand magic, often forgetting which end is the right one but I can tell you I know my way around a cauldron. Also, Ember has been sitting on my shoulder while brewing for the last four hundred years and no potion has gone wrong. Didn't your Professor tell you that?"
Harry flinched, ducking his head. This was no position he wanted to be in. Yet here he was. Either it was lying to Nicolas or telling on Snape for lying to him right in front of the hateful man. He squinted his eyes, lowering his head. Flamel placed his hand on Harry's shoulder.
"This is not your fault. Your teachers should have educated about such things. Whoever told you that phoenixes have dust is either a total idiot who has no business near a cauldron or someone who tried to sabotage it. You can ask me at any time if you want to learn more about potions. Professor Snape will probably have no problem with it."
Flamel turned his gaze at Severus and the dark man flinched. The eyes were burning and Snape could see that Flamel, even though he didn't say it, had already deduced who had told Harry that phoenixes have dust and destroy potions. Severus wasn't sure what cut deeper, the comment from his life long hero about not having any business near a cauldron or the disapproval in the eyes. Nicolas turned back to Harry smiling.
"So no need to be worried. Dawn could bath in the potion and nothing would happen if her feathers are clean. Yet I wouldn't recommend it. Ember once bathed in a cauldron of mine when I was not looking and for the next month I had a very grumpy and very blue familiar." The bird in question fluttered her wings and gave her friend a disapproving look like she understood he had used her ungraceful moment for a joke. Harry chuckled and nodded.
"Thank you, Nicolas."He smiled. Flamel nodded and walked slowly to the door. His cane made the only sound in the room, besides Snape's bubbling cauldron. A soft click, click, click. At the door, he turned and bowed slightly to the boy how life and the still-frozen Snape.
"No problem. See you around, good day Messers." And with a swish, he was out of the door quicker than most people would think a six-hundred-year-old man should move.
Harry was suddenly very aware that he was alone with Snape again. His professor was white as a sheet and stared at the door. His eyelid was twitching a little. That was a dangerous sign of Snape being short of an explosion. Harry had seen it quite a few times and it never ended well. He knew something had happened but he wasn't sure what really just transpired, only that Snape was angry about something and he was quite worried it could be himself. Harry wasn't sure what to do so he picked up the sponge. The movement attracted Snape's attention.
"You are done, Peverell." He said briskly, still in thoughts about the humiliation of disapproval by his life long hero. He felt miserable about this. To have such a wonderful moment, only for that Potter boy to ruin it. Once again. This boys mission was making Severus Snape's life miserable. Harry glanced at the clock, it was still half an hour to go.
"Are you sure sir there is still-"
"OUT POTTER!" Snape barked at him, pointing at the door. Harry was never so quick in gathering his bag and hurried out of the room leaving a glowering Snape behind.