22

Snape was just going to head up to the Great Hall for breakfast when a ghostly phoenix whooshed through the closed door.

Snape rolled his eyes. How melodramatic of Dumbledore to send his – admittedly impressive – patronus when he was about to meet him personally in three minutes.

"Severus!" said the patronus in Dumbledore's voice. "I hope this finds you before you leave your quarters. Whatever you do, stay put! And do not allow any house elf to enter your quarters!"

Snape was puzzled but returned to his sofa. He assumed that Dumbledore was going to explain the meaning of that message. He just hoped the headmaster was going to hurry. After correcting papers well into the small hours, he – Snape – was hungry. He wanted breakfast and truth to be told, he wanted it now.

It took a quarter hour for the old wizard to show up. He was surrounded by a bluish halo and a breakfast tray was hovering behind him.

"We have a problem," said Dumlbedore without preamble. He sent the tray to Snape's coffee table. "It turned out that house elves are extremely vulnerable to the virus. Fipsy caught it when he got the food. One of his friends visited him in the quarantine quarters and now all house elves are sick. They have lost control of their magic. As long as they don't try to use it, everything is well, but when they try to apply it, it acts erratic. The kitchens are in ruins. Several rooms have been redecorated and the Great Hall is a death trap. It took the Dark Lord a quarter hour to get down from the rafters after he was hung up there by elf magic. We were lucky he was early today. I don't even want to imagine what would have happened had it been a young child. I ordered the students to stay in their houses, which seems to be boon and bane. Hufflepuff house was cleaned by the elf who visited Fipsy. So far we have twenty infected children. Their magic is as erratic as the elves'. Thanks to the order to stay in their houses, Hufflepuff is isolated and so far we have no knowledge of cases in other houses."

The headmaster gasped for air, he was talking so fast.

"I don't think I can hold this shield up much longer. I don't want to risk infecting the only potions master we have. You are our best hope, Severus. You must find a remedy for this illness!"

Snape snorted. "Are you aware that the best scientists, wizard and muggle, have been trying to do that for months?"

"You are our only hope," Dumbledore repeated. "I have to go and write to the minister. What was he thinking, not warning us about the house elves? Hogwarts houses the biggest group of elves in all of wizarding Britain! I must go now. Good luck, Severus! Send your patronus if you need anything."

Once the headmaster had left, Snape sat down to have breakfast. He knew from experience that he was not much use on an empty stomach.

After a breakfast of toast, cheese and badly brewed coffee – obviously the elves were too ill to cook and whoever had taken over was not very good at it – Snape went to his private library in order to search his books for a brew that would work against corona-virus.

By lunchtime, he had found – nothing.

Lunch was breakfast leftovers. Snape thought about the problem at hand while he chewed on slice of cheese which was already a bit dry. He was just washing the cheese down with some water when it hit him.

He was an excellent potions master who always made sure to be informed about new findings in his field of expertise. If he didn't know about a potion which could help, this was because such a brew had not been found in recent years. He had a stack of books on historical potions in his quarters! Perhaps one of those held the solution!

Excited, Snape fetched the books he had checked out of the library. Hmm, where to start?

How had wizards treated the plague? If there had been potions for that they would have been forgotten long since. Was corona-virus similar enough to the plague to be treated with those potions?

It was as good a point to start as any. Snape checked the index of the first book for the plague. There was not much in that book but the small chapter gave the potions master hope.

Shortly before dinner time, Snape sent a patronus to Dumbledore. The message was short: "I need everything we have on the plague and dinner."

A half hour later, there was a knock on the door. Snape checked with a spell that nobody was outside before he opened it. In front of the entrance was a small stack of books and a tray of food.

Dinner was as miserable as breakfast and lunch. The meal consisted of boiled potatoes and tomato sauce. It needed some salt. Desperately. Being a potions master, Snape had everything he needed to make the meal palatable. He added some salt and dried oregano.

After a quick meal, Snape started to browse the books Dumbledore had provided. In the third book, he finally found a potion which, according to the book, was able to heal the plague.

The recipe was simple enough. If one had eggshell of Highland Dragon. Which Snape happened to have.

Snape brewed the potion as fast as he could. The eggshell was the last ingredient. Only a tiny amount was needed which was lucky. Eilidh's egg was going to be enough for a dozen of batches if the potion worked.

It was almost midnight, when the brew had cooled enough to be used.

Snape asked Dumbledore to come to the corridor in front of his rooms.

"Give this to a volunteer," he told the headmaster when he turned up. Dumbledore was using the bluish shield again. Snape could see that it was draining him. "It will take a couple of hours to work if it works at all. Tell me in the morning about it. You know what kind of data I will need."

Snape took a quick shower and went to bed. What a miserable day! For the first time in nine years it was almost Christmas and he hadn't opened an advent calendar window!