Published 20th of September, 2020
Hermione Granger's apartment,
West London, Sycamore Gardens 6
22:00
Hermione Granger reached for her wand and stifled a yawn.
„Accio Ryan's Norm List!"
In an instant, a thick book slipped out of the bookcase and flew towards her. The girl grabbed it deftly, found the norms for metamorphic potions storage and, propping her head on one hand, began to read.
Both yesterday and today in the Clinic were extremely tiring, but after coming back home, she made a strong coffee and sat down at the dinner table piled high with books, rolls of parchment, notes made on parchment and in Muggle notebooks.
She had been doing this since the beginning of last week - from the moment she found out she was going to be controlling the Powell's Potions Laboratory, where Severus Snape was employed. She knew her former professor would try to question her qualifications, challenge her and she made a promise to herself she would not give him any reason to do so.
About an hour later, she rolled up an eight-foot-long roll of parchment and started cleaning. She sent some of the books back to the bookcase, but most of them simply assembled in a nice pile on the table by the window and held ink bottles and quills next to it.
She had no reason to hide everything. She had lived alone in her parents' house for years and the few visitors who came to her were part of the wizarding world. Besides, from the moment she started working at St. Mungo, she had very little time for herself. Usually she would come back late, make a modest dinner, or just sit in front of the TV with a glass of tea and, as she used to do with her parents, watch Muggle news, then take a bathe and go to sleep. On Saturdays, if she wasn't working, she made shopping, cleaned and cooked and on Sundays she made strong, sweet tea and sat on the couch with a good book.
When she was a child, she used to spend this way every Sunday morning with her mother. She read curled by her side for a while and when she finished her book, she ran into the kitchen for fresh buns and ate them while her mother read aloud. Till now, she remembered the crispy golden crust, the wonderful taste of buttery dough that melted in her mouth and the strong aroma of yeast mingling with the warm plum jam, that was often so much that it dripped onto the plate.
Today it was way too late to watch the news, so Hermione went to her room and opened the wardrobe. She did not have many elegant clothes; in the Clinic she wore special green and yellow robes for Healers, at home and when going to visit friends, she liked to wear Muggle jeans, T-shirts and sweaters and during her studies at the Magic School of Medicine, she had not so fancy school robes. But since she got involved in helping the Ministry, she went to Madame Malkin and bought some more suitable clothes.
According to weather forecast tomorrow was rainy, windy day as usual last time and the temperature reached only 59 degrees, so after a short moment of hesitation she chose a black, narrow skirt above the knee with a small opening at the front, a black jacket with a pocket for a wand and a white shirt with a stand-up collar. Pulling her black high heels out of the cupboard, she smirked - it was a nice occasion to put them on. In the Clinic, she wore something like slippers with a thin, rubber sole and with jeans she wore sneakers. After shower, she went to sleep, but could not fall asleep for a long time.
She stared up at the ceiling, shadows cast by the wind-blown branches of the trees near the house and planned her visit tomorrow. After a while, she realized that she was starting to imagine her meeting with Professor Snape and their first argument. When the garbage truck arrived after one in the morning, Hermione was still going through all sorts of scenarios, but in strange way the monotonous thud of empty waste containers lulled her and she fell into a nervous dream.
Tuesday, April 15 London,
Ministry of Magic / Powell's Potions Laboratory
The next day, she got up earlier than always. She ate bacon and eggs, made a discreet makeup and pulled up her hair in an elegant bun. Just before leaving, she sprinkled her neck with light perfume, took Floo powder, and thrown a little into the fireplace.
"Ministry of Magic" she said clearly, jumping into the green flames.
For a few seconds hundreds of fireplaces flashed before her eyes and suddenly everything slowed down and she saw the one leaving the Atrium. She jumped out and strode towards the elevators.
Clicking of heels and this, in add to the makeup and fancy clothes, caused she instinctively straighten up, raised her head and walked with an elegant step, looking straight ahead.
She arrived on Level Two and went straight to the office of Octavia Banks, head of the Section of Regulation and Authorization at the Department of Education, whom she helped during her free time.
Octavia already was seating at her desk, drinking coffee, the aroma spreading throughout the room and was looking at some documents. She was an elderly witch with a severe expression, always dressed in dark green robes. Her flaming red hair was braided and pinned up in a bun. When she saw Hermione, she put the parchment aside, pressed a cambric lacy handkerchief to her lips for a second, and stood up to greet her.
"Hello, my dear. How are you?" She asked, patting Hermione on the shoulder.
"Great, Mrs. Banks. I hope you too?" Hermione smiled and at her nod she added:
"How is Mister? Doesn't this constant rain deter him from wandering around?
Mister was Octavia's beloved cougar. According to the seller, it was supposed to be a female cat, so the witch chose the name Missy Bee because of the orange and black stripes and it was only a few months later when Hermione brought her some papers and accidentally corrected her by saying "oh, what a wonderful tomcat"! thus Missy Bee became Mister Drone and finally ended up as Mister.
"Absolutely not. He comes back wet and sprawls in front of the fireplace", Octavia laughed.
These were the very seldom occasions the old witch smiled. Now she immediately became serious and gestured Hermione to the chair next to the desk.
"Sit down. Before you go to Powell's Lab, I need to explain to you the rules." She summoned thin bundle of parchment and laid it on the desk between them.
Hermione was perfectly familiar with the entire control procedure and all rules of conduct, including the code of ethics, but she knew also that she had to be officially acquainted with them and at the end of the presentation will have to sign a declaration that everything is clear to her and she undertakes to comply with them. It was needed in the case of a potential disciplinary procedure.
So she listened carefully to all the explanations, showing no impatience. Octavia showed her the relevant paragraphs and Hermione involuntarily read some of them.
"Is everything clear to you, Hermione?" Asked the older witch at the end.
"Of course, Mrs. Banks. And, if necessary, I will inform you about everything." Hermione smiled and put her signature at the bottom of page six.
"Watch out especially for Powell and Snape" Octavia leaned toward her, her look warmer, with obvious concern. "I know Leoncius and I'm sure he will try to trick you in some way. Don't agree to any dinner parties to celebrate a successful experiment, even if all employees are to participate. Don't accept even the smallest of gifts ... Do you know that this sly fox once offered me a cat food infused with a new elixir for cleaning teeth, which they were then working on and APPARENTLY needed the owners' opinion?"
"I promise you to be very careful with Powell, Mrs. Banks. As for Professor Snape ..." the girl snorted with laughter. "I can't even imagine him trying to charm me. To curse - yes, but not to charm!"
An interdepartamental memo flew into the office and landed on the desk just in front of Octavia, which both women took as a signal to end the meeting. Hermione bowed politely and made to the corridor.
Time to bit on the bullet, she thought and went to the golden elevators.
She apparated on Winding Alley, a street parallel to Diagon Alley, right in front of the Lab. Fortunately, it wasn't raining, so she could allow herself a quick glance at the building. It was perhaps not very impressive, but it was very long. The brick on the ground floor was a bit damaged, but on the first floor was in better condition. Each large window was secured with a grid that looked decorative, but was actually meant to prevent from any access. The building had an Anti Dissaparition Jinx cast upon it, Cave Inimicum, Silencio, Protego Horribilis and Fianto Duri.
Just for try, she pushed a large swinging door with a colorful stained glass window and an ornate grille identical to the windows, but the door, as expected, did not open.
"Alohomora" she muttered and heard the lock click.
The door creaked as she entered the small vestibule where the Front Desk was located. A young girl dressed in a black role with a gray logo of the Lab appeared in the window. Hermione recognized the wand and the scale in the background. She liked it very much - it was modest as well as full of grace. "Hello, Hermione Granger from the ... Ministry of Magic" she introduced herself to the girl and showed the official, personalized card from the Ministry. "I come for an inspection."
The girl replied politely "good morning", closed the front door with Colloportus and, taking the card, began checking her authorization level. Then she handed her a tiny vial containing a clear elixir.
„Please drink and then fill in this pass."
Hermione took a little sip of Veritaserum without hesitation and wrote her name, the Department and Section from which she was delegated for inspection, as well as her grade as a civil employee. Only after comparing the pass data with those at the reception desk the young witch smiled at Hermione.
"Nice to meet you, Miss Granger. My name is Monica and I am happy to help you during all your stay. If you need anything, please do not hesitate to tell me about it."
The girl opened the floor-to-ceiling grid gate with her wand that led into the building and cast a Patronus - a giant, luminous dragonfly.
"I informed Mr. Powell about your arrival, he will be here shortly. Please wait a bit."
Hermione walked through the gate, sat on the comfy couch and looked around. She was impressed. The young witch, whom she initially took for an apprentice, had to be an employee of the Lab. Casting
a corporeal Patronus, with such stunning ease, was quite an accomplishment and Hermione could count on one hand people of her age who were able to do it. Surely it couldn't have been done by each of apprentices whom plenty worked in various wizarding facilities.
She looked at the light gray stone floor, which met one of the basic safety requirements of laboratories (no wooden floorboards, no popular recently silencing carpets or decorative iron accessories), felt a soft, constant gust of air on her cheeks (mandatory exhaust) and began to study the door . They were all swinging (another requirement, allowing one to move around the entire facility even with both hands full).
Before she began looking for other details, Leoncius Powell came around the corner. She recognized him immediately by his shaved head, round ruddy face, and gray, unusually bright eyes. To tell the true, she had never liked such a color, it reminded her of Malfoy.
"Miss Granger!" He called seeing her and walked over to her, holding out his hands.
"Good morning, Mr. Powell."
"I am very happy to welcome you to my studio" he took her hand and kissed her gallantly, then stepped back and showed her the corridor. "Please, this way, let's go to my office before I introduce you to my team. Please let me lead you."
Fortunately, the conversation didn't last very long, and it was Powell who was talking most of time, so she managed not to say something stupid after drinking Veritaserum, something she was afraid of. Powell presented her history of the Lab, his major accomplishments until now, offered to review the financial status with her, which he emphasized, allows all necessary investments related to the Fifth Drop and offered to show her the building and present his employees.
"Thank you very much, Mr. Powell, that's a great idea" Hermione replied politely. "Could I ask you this afternoon for a detailed list of suppliers up to a year ago, delivery notes, invoices, let's say ... for the last six months and a list of customers?
"This is exactly what I expected, Miss Granger" Powell reached for the pile of catalogs piled up on the long table. "These are the documents that I had to present in the first stage of the procedure. Here you have data for the entire last year. I have previous years ready in my cabinets, if you wish. There are also copies of all contracts. However I would ask you to look through all of them either in my office or in the meeting room."
"Of course."
Hermione didn't think she could catch him on some scams, she just wanted to be able to compare this data with the stored ingredients and finished potions ready to deliver to customers.
They moved to the second floor, where there were rows of swinging doors along either side of a narrow corridor. To the left of each one she saw doorplates with the number of the lab and the level of potions that could be brewed there.
As she entered each of them, Hermione instinctively glanced quickly around and only then focused on what Powell was saying to her. They had started their visit from the first level potions lab, so she hadn't expected to find Severus Snape there, but it was still possible that he had come to help one of his colleagues, or he was looking for a missing ingredient in his lab, or ...
There were two men working in the third, but Powell had only made a brief presentation, so certainly neither of them would be assigned to her.
When Hermione saw the second of them, with a curled mustache and red, slicked hair, looking hoity-toity and pressing his lips together, she was briefly relieved. William Hamilton-Temple-Blackwood was definitely someone she intended to steer clear of.
In the next one worked a boy about her age. He gave her a very long look, looked deep into her eyes, and kissed her hand. At that Hermione felt suddenly weak in her knees. She tried to listen to Powell and watch the room, but she could feel his eyes on her all the time. As she made to the doors, she concentrated on her thoughts about the other employees and managed not to look at Kelly. She barely registered the existence of two more labs across the hall. According to the doorplates fourth-level potions were brewed in and Hermione's heart began to hammer. Two more labs. You will know in a moment. Get a grip, you idiot! He will immediately see that you are ... afraid!
Powell said something he thought was amusing, but Hermione only realized that he was laughing. So she took a deep breath and laughed with him, discreetly rubbing her wet, cold hands against her jacket.
"Alohomora," Powell muttered in front of the next door and pushed it hard, holding one wing to her. As she entered, she immediately saw two men looking at the content of a jar up to the light and her heart skipped for a moment and then started to gallop. One of them had short blonde hair, the other had black one. Long black hair, tied in a ponytail that reached his shoulder blades.
She could easily see in her mind his black obsidian eyes and a serious, long face. She remembered the time when those eyes flashed lights and the thin lips smirked derisively, but she also remembered how that face was twisted in an expression of pain, failure and a desperate attempt to keep living, even for a few seconds. How many times had she woken up during the night to see blood trickling down his neck and the slowly fading eyes of someone who finally accepted his death.
Stop to panic, girl! After all, you've talked to each other so many times and he always behaved correctly! He certainly won't bite you today either! And you can always request a change of leading person!
She swallowed hard and barely heard Powell as he cleared his throat and said:
"Chase, Severus, I'd like to interrupt you for a moment."
The blond turned to them with a slight smile on his lips. Ironic? There were sparkles in his dark gray eyes. He looked about fifty, maybe even more.
Snape turned very slowly and looked at her closely. She quickly looked away and focused on Powell.
„Miss Granger, Chase Griffin is one of my best employees. He has extraordinary knowledge, both about potions and the laboratory, so he will be a perfect leading person for you. Please refer to him with all matters not related to the brewing process."
Griffin shook her hand, still keeping that weird smirk and Hermione tried to shake his hand in the same, confident manner. The sudden relief that flooded her made her legs almost buckle under her.
"Uh, n-nice to meet you," her voice sounded almost normal.
Powell pointed to Snape and was about to say something when he suddenly spoke up.
"Miss Granger" he nodded shortly.
"You know Severus very well, so ... "
"So no presentation is necessary," Snape cut off hard.
There was a tense silence for a few seconds before it dawned on Hermione that she should say something. What? She was so at ease that it was hard to concentrate.
"Ah yes, we know each other pretty well," she smiled at Powell.
"I won't disturb you," Snape set the jar he was holding in his hand on the table and stepped back a little. "Good luck with your inspection, Miss Granger. Griffin, if you're looking for me about the Moon Stone, I'm at next door."
Then he nodded his head, gave Hermione one more brief look and left. Hearing the door click shut, the girl was almost certain that it would be one of the previous studios, though she could not say how he could know which ones she had already visited.
Powell grinned and rubbed his hands together.
"Perfect! So I will not disturb you. I am at your disposal if necessary, Miss Granger."
He bowed to Hermione and left, leaving them alone. They both looked at each other and Hermione smiled.
"Mr. Griffin, I have a few questions for you ..."
"Chase will suffice," the man interrupted. "We won't waste our breaths on titles. I will leave this to some of my colleagues. Besides, it will be easier for us to work together. I'll have some questions for you too, but mine can wait."
"About what?" Hermione asked, sitting down on the stool he pointed to her.
"I'm Muggle-born too," Chase chuckled. "And I heard that you also were born in London..."
Her visit of the laboratory that day ended at this one lab, much to her deep relief.
,.,.,.,.,.,
Snape cleaned up all the ingredients. He was cleaning a wooden chopping board and a silver knife in the stone sink when Griffin entered the studio. He closed the door behind him, sat comfortably on a stool and in demonstrative way wiped his forehead with his sleeve.
"How was your day?" He asked with a smile.
Snape wiped the knife carefully and returned to the table.
"I suppose that much better than yours."
Griffin broke into laughter and shook his head.
"I don't think so. Apart from the fact that I'm in late with Calming Draught, it was great. Really! She is brilliant! She not only knows about various potions, but also knows all recipes rules, including various legal tricks!"
This is exactly what Snape had expected. He was sure that Granger had learned by heart thirty books over the past week, had gone over all her notes, inquired about what remained unclear and today she might be taking the Potions Master exam.
"As I can see, you were so fascinated by Miss Granger that you stopped worrying about the fact that the Moon Stone is almost not shining."
"I'm already a bit too old, though I do not deny that she looks much better in this suit than in the Healers' robes hanging over her."
Snape had to agree with that. When Hermione Granger was not slouching under the weight of her book bag, she was not wearing pathetic Muggle trousers or too large, completely unbecoming Healers' robes, but the tailored clothes made her look very ... feminine.
"What were you doing?" he asked with interest and put the chopping board on a special stand to let it drain.
"Hermione wanted to check ..."
"Hermione?" Snape interrupted him in disbelief. "I never thought you would become ... friends so quickly."
"Spare your breath" Griffin stopped him. "If it was anyone else, you wouldn't notice we're at first name terms."
Snape shrugged.
"So what did HERMIONE want to check?"
While Griffin gave a very brief overview of what today was like, Snape finished cleaning. He wanted to ask about Powell's reaction, but as he sat down next to him, Griffin objected:
"I have to go. I'm starving." He stood up and pushed the stool under the table. "I haven't eaten dinner and now I'm twisted. And on your one chocolate frog, I won't last long."
Snape raised an eyebrow, so Griffin waved his hand towards the last lab.
"Found it hidden on a stool under the table. By the way, you're lucky we didn't make it to Eight, because she would have killed us for a grub in lab."
"I've been working here all day" Snape objected, standing up. "Besides, you know I don't eat sweets."
Griffin looked at him a little surprised.
"Oh, I thought it was you. And that you did it on purpose to provoke Hermione, but now I think that one of these three idiots is competing with you."
Snape turned off the shinning crystal bubbles, stopped the exhaust, and they both left the lab.
"Weird. None of these morons are allowed to go in alone", he said as they went downstairs.
"I do not suspect Leoncius of being so careless, especially since the second phase of his sacred procedure has just begun. Anyway, the frog was great." said Griffin and began whispering the incantation to open the gate that they used to exit the Laboratory.
Wednesday, April 16th
Leaving the Laboratory, Hermione stopped by the Clinic to see if they needed her. It was extremely quiet in her Ward, so she came back home and buried herself in the notes she had made this morning. The true was she planned to brew Calming Draught with Chase, but Chase wasn't feeling well and asked her to change her plans.
It was impossible for him to be afraid to brew anything in my company. It had to be true. Anyway, what's delayed is not lost, we'll do it tomorrow. Oops, Friday!
Hermione smiled slightly at the thought of Thursday off. At first she wanted to go to the Laboratory for inspection, but it occurred to her that it was worth to take the opportunity to repeat the instruction for this potion. And analyze collected data.
At least, she was sure Chase wasn't pretending. When she entered the lab where they had spent all day yesterday, he was sitting slightly hunched and supported his head with his head and when she came to say goodbye and make an appointment for Friday, he even winced as he spoke. Most likely whatever he took, the potion or the dragon scales, didn't help.
Provided he took anything. For some reason, guys think the pain will go away by itself. Well, they never had a decent period - if they had one burning contraction radiating all the way across and their heads would come off, they would drink five vials at once!
By the way, she was very pleased to be working with him. Aside from the obvious reason - that she didn't see Severus Snape too often, she had spend a very good time talking to Chase. Maybe it was because of their Muggle origins, or maybe Chase was just experienced in this type of relation and knew how to behave towards her?
She looked through the list of ingredients ordered from each of suppliers and circled in red all that fell into class A and B. Draconian rules for reception of deliveries, storage and usage of these ingredients allowed to track who did it, when, how much and what for.
No wonder, they were only used for Level IV and V potions, the recipes of which at Hogwarts could only be found in the Restricted Section and Hermione had to select and check a few of them as part of the inspection. Around 8 PM, she took a break for the evening news, made toasts and an omelette with salmon, tomato and chives and went back to work.
Thursday morning April 17th
Powell's Potions Laboratory
Snape pushed the door to Lab 7, where Griffin usually worked, but inside it was almost completely dark. The thick shutters were closed and only here and there thin beams of light came through the gaps. You could see dust particles dancing slowly in all directions – a clear sign that even the exhaust air was not turned on.
Snape frowned, wondering what might have happened that Griffin hadn't shown up for work. For a moment he considered the idea of asking Powell about it, but he didn't intend to spoil the day by meeting him, so he eventually returned to his lab and started to prepare ingredients for the Draught of Living Death, ordered by the Clinic for tomorrow morning.
He measured water in a beaker and poured it into the cauldron, lit the flame and adjusted it immediately. Then he set up a jar of powdered root of asphodel, valerian roots, a bottle of Sopophorus beans, a flat jar containing Sloth's brain and a large beaker of wormwood infusion.
Perhaps he still feels bad today? He looked really bad yesterday evening, he thought as he swiped left and right across the chopping board with his silver dagger.
He remembered the last two years at Hogwarts, when he was still teaching Potions. Some students skipped lessons by taking the sweets made by dumb Weasleys, but no one dared to do it in Potions. Though he certainly wouldn't have protested if Longbottom, for example ...
He remembered some of his more spectacular disasters for a moment, then shook himself.
He was about to brew a potion.
There was no news from Griffin.
He began pulverize the asphodelus root, but couldn't concentrate. You will brew this elixir in an hour. You still have time.
He put off the fire under the cauldron and, warding the lab, made his way quickly downstairs to Powell's office.
"Severus, it's good to see you" the older wizard said immediately, setting his quill aside.
Snape stood right outside the door and nodded briefly.
"For any particular reason?
"Oh, nothing special" Powell waved his hand shortly. "Chase sent me an owl today that he is taking the day off because he is not feeling well."
Snape looked at him, considering the answer. Chase must have felt really bad to take the day off. He usually drank whatever potions he could find at home and would come to work when only he felt better. Late, but he still would come.
"What did you come to see me for? Do you need something?" Powell's voice pulled him out of his reverie.
"I just wanted to tell you that I will finish the Draught of Living Death by noon."
Powell gave him a very satisfied look and leaned back in the chair that creaked alarmingly.
"Perfect as always! Thank you very much, Severus."
Snape nodded and left. It seemed that Griffin was running out of potions this time. Now go to work.
Salford Royal Hospital, Manchester
England, around noon
The ambulance burst in the driveway in front of the ER, braked with a tyre squeal, the door at the back opened immediately and two paramedics jumped out of it. One of them began to slide the stretcher with the patient strapped to it, the other jumped for the gurney and returned immediately.
„Ready!"
With a shuddering noise, they pulled the stretcher along the rails, the locks snapped shut and they both hurried inside. Dr. Harper was just approaching them.
„What's with him?" He asked shortly.
"Vomiting, high fever, sharp pains. Critically low pressure."
Harper looked at the sick man. The man was barely conscious, groaning, panting and writhing in pain. He glanced at the card and hold back a groan.
„First floor, number 3. Plug him to the oxygen card, two units of blood and one dose of morphine! And put ice on him right now!"
When he entered the room with Dr. Brown a few minutes later, the nurse just started an IV.
"Fifty-two by thirty-six" Brown read from the monitor screen. "He must have severe internal bleeding. Thanks, Liz."
Liz left the room quickly and closed the door. Harper shone a penlight in the patient's eyes.
"No reaction to ... "
At this point, the man tilted his head and vomited blood violently onto the pillow. Harper tore his oxygen mask off with one jerk and Brown tried to tilt it to the side. The man convulsed again, blood trickled from his mouth and nose and his chest went still.
"Shit!" Harper hissed.
"We're losing him! "Brown called, looking at the green line on the monitor.
"Reanimation ?!
"Too late! Shit, too late!"
Harper lowered the man to the bed with a sigh. They both looked at the splattered sheets and floor, and only now Harper did see the color of blood. He looked at his smock, fortunately clean and slightly spattered shoes and his colleagues' trousers. Brown reached for the splattered sheet.
"NO!"
Brown froze, but Harper pushed him quickly aside.
"Don't touch" he said in a changed, now tense voice. "Get out of here."
Brown stepped back, looked at the black blood and back at his colleague.
„John ... you don't think so ..."
„I've been to Zaire, Andy. It was very similar."
Brown turned deathly pale. Zaire. Ebola. Good God. Anything but this.
Harper closed the door and went to the internal telephone.
„Give me Institute of Infectious Diseases" he said into the receiver and added to his colleague: "We'll have to decontaminate this room, corridor, elevator and ambulance. Liz, the paramedics and the driver must be disinfected as if they had been exposed to AIDS."
„And ... us?"
They both looked at Brown' smock and Harper nodded.
„Yes, Andy. Quarantine. Both. I hope I'm wrong, but I prefer to assume the worst."
Ebola, or hemorrhagic fever, is incurable and highly contagious. The death rate reaches ninety percent of which the victims of the first and even the second generation of the virus do not have the slightest chance to survivre. In the next generations, the virus weakens and the powerful organisms sometimes manage to fight it off. In this and only this way, the disease outbreak can be eradicated.
One becomes infected through contact with body fluids, but in the case of the Mayinga strain, the virus can also be transmitted by droplets.
Death occurs as a result of internal hemorrhages - the virus destroys the tissues, practically dissolving them and turning the abdominal cavity into a single bloody mass, accompanied by terrible pain. The only consolation is that it doesn't take more than a few days.
With trembling hands, Brown removed his shoes and trousers and threw them as far as possible. But perhaps it was already too late.
Powell's Potions Laboratory / Chase Griffin's House
Nottingham, England 17:00
Snape walked quickly down the stairs to the hall, opened the gate and closed it with a spell and nodded to the girl at the desk. As soon as he was on the street, he apparated in front of Griffin's house. He knocked hard on the front door and waited for an answer. Nothing. He knocked again, harder this time and for a long moment he listened to the footsteps or the clatter of the lock being opened, but no sound came from behind the door. Worried more and more, he took a few steps back and looked around.
All the windows were shuttered; strange for five in the afternoon. There was absolutely nothing to be seen through the crack in the curtain of the nearest window.
"Griffin, if you wanted to take a holiday, you had to say" he cried, hitting the door hard and scowled. In this situation, that sounded completely ridiculous.
It's time for more serious steps. He pressed the doorknob, but it didn't help. Alohomora did not help either. And at that moment, in some incomprehensible way, the unease turned into a sudden certainty that something was bloody wrong.
Snape backed up a few steps and, pointing at the door, he called:
"Confringo!"
In an instant, the door exploded. Without waiting for the debris to settle down, he stepped inside.
„Lumos!"
In the dim light of the wand, he saw chairs and the edge of a table in front of him. He stepped forward and saw the outline of the candlestick. With a spell he lit all the candles and held it up.
"Griffin ?!"
The living room was empty. As was the bedroom. In the kitchen, a broken glass was lying on the floor in a pool of water.
"Griffin ?!"
As he turned, faint traces flashed in the candlelight, leading somewhere in the house. As if someone was dragging something wet on the ground ...
„Shit ..."
He tilted his head and forced himself to find another trace in the doorway and another in the corridor ... Bathroom!
The bathroom door was open, so he ran a few yards and fell inside and ... He nearly fell over a motionless body lying on the ground.
„Griffin !"
He turned on the light, put the candlestick down anywhere and knelt beside Griffin.
"Griffin ... Chase! What's wrong...?!"
Griffin was unconscious. In short, choppy gulps, he could hardly catch his breath, while wheezing loudly. His face, drenched in sweat, twisted in pain, his hands clenched tightly on the rug and every few seconds his whole body shook violent spasms.
„Anapneo!" Snape shouted. „Griffin ...!"
Griffin inhaled sharply until his body arched, froze for a moment, then sank down and began to choke again. A trickle of blood leaked from his mouth.
Oh Merlin ...! Think! Fast!
Snape gritted his teeth with all his strength and looked around as if seeking for help that wasn't there. Healer, now!
„I'll be back! Hold on!" He shook his fiery hand tightly, jumped up and desapparated.
He appeared in the familiar backyard of the Clinic and ran quickly in the narrow corridor to the Emergency Room.
There was the usual hustle and bustle and chaos. There were people everywhere; some sat in lame chairs, some stood against the walls or trotted in place. In the middle there was a long line to the registration window.
.,.,.,.
Speeding Snape burst among the people and stormed forward, knocking and pushing some of them.
"Get out of the way !" He roared, pushing a woman away, who immediately began to scream in indignation.
Ignoring her, he leaped to the window.
"I need a Healer! Immediately!"
The young woman looked at him clearly confused, so he blurted out hurriedly:
"Not for me! For my friend! Fast! He can't breathe!"
"Who is your friend? Name, surname ..." she asked, calmly, which made rage burst inside of him.
"It does not matter!"
"Mr. Snape ..."
"Listen to me carefully ..." he growled through gritted teeth.
"What's going on here?! "A voice next to them rumbled loudly.
Snape turned sharply and saw a Healer, one of those who walked around and checked on patients. The badge was written "Healer Johnson, Michael."
"Chase Griffin is dying" he forced himself to calm down. "He's choking, I don't know what's wrong with him. He's convulsions, he's unconscious."
It sounded terribly chaotic, but the Healer nodded without thinking.
"Where he is?"
"At home!"
"Let's go!"
Snape grabbed his arm tightly and turned, pulling them both out.
.,.,.,.
Griffin was in the exact same position when they fell into the bathroom. The Healer knelt beside him and began to move his wand over his body, muttering some spells.
Without taking his eyes off Johnson, Snape knelt on the other side. When he saw the terror on his face, he clenched his fist with all his strength.
"What's with him?"
The Healer sighed heavily and rose to his feet.
"He's dying. His lungs and most of his internal organs are completely destroyed, which surely cause severe pain..."
"How can he be healed ?!"
The Healer shook his head helplessly.
"Too late. There's nothing I can do ... I'm so sorry ..."
"How can it be healed!" It sounded more like a plea than a question.
"As you said yourself, he dies ..."
Snape stopped listening to him and leaned over Griffin, who was starting to shake. The hoarse, husky breath turned into hasty shallow panting.
"Anapneo!" This time it didn't help anymore. "Imperio! Griffin, you can breathe. Nothing hurts you. You are well! Griffin, you feel no pain ... Renervate ..."
He and the Healer were both breathing deeply as if for him.
Griffin's face relaxed and so were his fists. He opened his eyes and took a breath. Snape and the Healer leaned over him.
This is it!
"Chase ..." Snape grabbed his hand. "Everything will be..."
"Sev ..." Griffin's lips moved, his eyes suddenly widening.
Guessing what was coming, the Healer jumped back. In the last moment.
The Griffin tossed up and a stream of black blood gushed from his mouth, nose and ears. He moved his hands helplessly as if seeking for support when another contraction threw out another dose. He looked at Severus dimly and with the last of his strength he tried to tighten his hand around his. Then his eyes went still.
Snape gave back a weak hug and slumped from his knees straight into the pool of blood.
Merlin ...
He stared at the grotesquely twisted limp body and tried to understand what had just happened.
Dead. He died. Griffin is dead.
He sighed heavily and forced himself to calm down. He heard the Healer talking to him.
„... ouching attempt to save another man's life. I won't tell anyone about this, I promise."
He didn't answer, just gripped his wand tighter in his hand and slowly stood up. The blood that had not soaked into the work clothes dribbled onto the floor.
"It's terrible to lose a friend." The Healer looked at him. "We'll take care of the body, don't worry about that. Should someone be notified? Wife, relatives?"
Griffin had no wife or mistress and he never spoke of any relatives.
"... an employer?"
Powell certainly should have been notified. He would have to do without Griffin. It will certainly not be easily to him, especially with the procedure already started ...
Suddenly he was literally struck by the memory of a few days ago. Powell leaning towards him and saying "What if I had no other choice?"
The implications almost shocked him.
Merlin! He so badly wanted you to lead Granger ...
? ! ... !
Powell ... You goddamn son of a bitch ... ! You killed him ! You killed him for a goddamn bloody Fifth Drop !
"Mr. Snape?" The Healer's voice reached him. "Is there anything I can do for you?
Snape scowled, his face suddenly darkened.
"Yes. I will notify Leoncius Powell myself. You however bring here the Aurors. Immediately."
The Healer froze, confused.
"Aurors? For what...?"
„For a murder investigation."