Published 23th of September

Powell's Potion Laboratory

Powell's office

08.00

Powell strode into his office, tossed the Daily Prophet and his briefcase on the desk, and looked at today's calendar. The schedule will certainly change.

Normally, he would only have an appointment with the Head of Healers at the Clinic, so he planned to do a financial analysis for the rest of his time. Yesterday he had got from goblins the summarize of amount of gold in several vaults and was already starting to wonder how many Galleons he would put into the vault he had allocated to pay his staff when bloody Severus Snape came to him with bloody bad news and just attacked him!

Oh, I'll deal with you today!

The problem was, he couldn't do what he really wanted to. Immediately fired him out of a cannon and report the assault.

First, because he wouldn't have anyone else who could lead Granger. He bloody HAD TO keep him for minimum one month.

Second, it would raise many questions, raise suspicions. More Aurors would poke their nose in his business. And he couldn't afford it.

He had to grit his teeth, swallow his pride and play it cool.

"Expecto Patronum!"

A silver fox burst out of end of his wand and sat down expectantly.

"Severus, I am expecting you in my office!"

He smacked his wand in the direction of the corridor, and at that the fox ran to the door and disappeared into it.

While waiting for his employee, he paced the entire room in a measured step. He just hoped he wouldn't have to wait long. When sending Patronus he hesitated to add the word "Immediately", but did not want to push Snape too hard. Knowing Severus' teasing and his tendency to piss off others, he knew it would only make things worse.

About ten minutes later there was a knock and Severus entered before Powell could say "Come in."

"Good morning, Leoncius," he said, stopping just outside the door and folding his arms over his chest. "You wanted to see me."

Powell gave him a serious look and nodded.

„Good morning, Severus. Yes, I wanted to see you. After your visit yesterday I find it rather necessary."

He gestured him into the chair on the other side of the desk and sank into his own.

Snape didn't unfold his hands as he sat down. He knew perfectly well that Powell would fire him from his job today, and he just wasn't sure if he would make him stay for another month or two. Because he would bet his want that he won't let him go immediately.

He didn't care about this job. He had enough gold not to have to work for many years. And if he had run his little business, he could have kept it that way all his life. And, this was more important, he wouldn't have anyone to rapport to anymore. Wouldn't have A MASTER.

Tonight he was even considering coming to work. But at the end he decided he would come. He wanted to check some things himself, and besides, being in the Lab gave him an insight into the Auror's investigation.

"I am all ears."

Powell leaned toward him and started playing with his wand.

"I think you realize that after your yesterday behavior, our relationship will never be the same again. As your supervisor, I can't, I just can't let this happen. I should notify the Aurors about your aggression towards me and my servants. I could even make a claim. But I won't." He smiled kindly. "I know you were very agitated yesterday. It must have been a shock to you, especially since Chase was your good friend ... "

„Spare me." Snape snarled and gritted his teeth. He could tolerate this pathetic comedy, but he wasn't going to let Powell insult the memory of Griffin.

Powell's wand trembled in his hand and he put it down as quickly as possible.

"I just want to say, Severus, that I'm trying to be understanding. I will minimize the consequences. That's why I propose that we terminate your contract. You are legally entitled to three months' notice, but I don't think, for our mutual convenience, it should ... it should go on that long. I think a month is enough. For you to find another job and for me to complete all formalities."

It was quite easy for Severus to hide his triumphant smirk, because something in him was still shaking with indignation at his previous words.

"A month is perfectly fine. I would even say that it may be too much, but let's stay with the month," he bit out through clenched teeth and stood up. "Now, if you don't mind, I will go back to work. Your nonsense makes my head ache."

He was halfway to the door when Powell spoke again.

"As you know, Hermione Granger comes today. I'd like you to lead her."

He shrugged, nodded, and left.

He knew Powell would ask for it, and he figured yesterday that he would agree. He wanted to find out WHY Powell had pushed so hard that he would lead her.

Except he did not see fit to say that it would be on his own terms.

Hermione's apartment,

09.00

After the day off, Hermione got up without problems. She did her light make-up at breakfast and repeated under her breath the instruction for a Calming Draught. She wanted to surprise Chase, who pointed out that it was one of the more complicated and dangerous potions.

Then she went into the room and began going through the clothes. Since on Wednesday she had the feeling that she was going to be cooked in a warm suit, she chose a thin black-gray suit and decided to throw a cape over it in the morning.

Monica at the front desk greeted her politely, but didn't smile. Hermione watched her out of the corner of her eye as she filled out her pass. The girl looked preoccupied with something.

Hermione handed her the parchment.

"Maybe next time I could get a pass for the whole week?" She asked innocently.

"I'm sorry Miss Granger, but it can't be. Visitors must go through the Veritaserum check each time", Monica replied automatically. "Please wait for Mr. Powell."

"I'm going to work with Mr. Griffin today," Hermione objected.

"Yes, I know ..." Monica paused and sighed heavily. "I'm sorry. Mr. Powell needs to talk to you."

She turned away from her to open the gate and send a Patronus. Then she just disappeared somewhere in the reception area.

Strange ... Hermione thought. Maybe I did something wrong? Maybe I was asking too much and Powell didn't like it. But that's my job! Or he thinks I'm too familiar with Chase? Perhaps we should be on more terms?

By the way, I hope Chase is feeling better today. If not, I will personally pour all the necessary potions down his throat!

Powell led her into the office and looked at her grimly.

"Miss Granger, I have very bad news. Please sit down..."

Something about Hermione clenched nervously as she sat on the edge of the chair.

"My God, what happened ?!"

"Chase Griffin is dead. You will have to work with someone else today."

Hermione gasped and covered her mouth with her hand.

"Oh, Merlin ... !"

"I'm sorry, Miss Granger."

"I AM sorry, Mr. Powell ! That's why Monica was acting so weird ... And I thought it was because of me. What happened? He was sick? Has he had an accident?"

Powell straightened suddenly with dignity.

"We haven't had a single accident at work for over ten years!"

WHAT?!

"How dare you think of the procedure right now!" Hermione exclaimed indignantly. „You must be crazy! Sir, I don't mean an inspection now, I just want to know what happened to him!"

Powell gave her a strange look that only pissed her off.

„I am a Healer first and foremost. Don't forget that," she said dryly, then suddenly remembered WHAT they were arguing about and added softer:

„My God, what happened?"

„He died at his house last night. Your colleagues from the Clinic tried to save him, but it wasn't possible. I hope to find out more today, because at the moment I know as much as you do now."

Hermione stared at the blank wall behind Powell and tried to calm down. Working at St. Mungo, she had seen a few deaths already, but that didn't mean she was able to come to terms with them. Not yet! Suddenly she remembered others she had witnessed during the Battle of Hogwarts. She saw pain-streaked eyes in front of her, they went still after a moment, and she did nothing to stop it. The pain of failure pierced her heart. No NOT YET, but NEVER!

"Oh God ..." She shook herself violently to push away that horrible memory. "This is terrible...! Mr. Powell, I will personally ask my colleagues what happened and let you know! I'm really sorry!"

Powell gave her a weak smile.

„Thank you. That's very kind of you. So in this situation, I'd like you to work with Severus Snape."

Hermione was so shocked that Chase was dead that she didn't have time to think about the implications yet, and the news made her shiver again. She breathed heavily and nodded.

„Shit. I understand. Yes ... I guess ... I don't think I have any other choice," she bit her lips, trying to somehow hold back her honest answers.

"Severus is waiting for you in Lab Six, Miss Granger. Thanks again for your understanding," Powell said.

Hermione got up automatically and went to the door.

- Goodbye, Mr. Powell.

- Have a nice day.

She gave him one last look and left.

Lab number six. Six o'clock. Nomen-omen. Sixth year, Sixth Lab ... That year was the beginning of the nightmare of her life. She just had to hope that Lab number Six wouldn't be another one.

She stood outside the door and raised her hand to knock, but took a few deep breaths before doing so. Then she knocked, quickly rubbed her damp hands against the thin cloth, threw the Alohomora and stepped inside.

"Professor Snape," she said softly. Good morning seemed completely out of place.

Severus Snape turned to her and gave her a long look.

"Miss Granger," he replied, gesturing toward a stool on the other side of the table.

Hermione sat down and placed her bag with parchment, quill and ink-bottle on the floor.

"First of all I wanted to say that ... I am so sorry ... It must be very hard for all of you ...

"Enough," Snape snapped, and Hermione immediately fell silent. She hadn't heard it in years. They were polite to each other during their meetings in the Clinic, and that firm "Enough" sounded now like a smack of a whip.

"I think Leoncius Powell told you that from today I will represent the Laboratory. So from now on you are to discuss with me anything that does not directly concern the others' work. I wish you wouldn't ... interrupt other employees' time as much as possible. You can ask me questions related to your job. If it is during brewing, they will have to wait until the end of the process. During this time, you can take notes, but you are not to disturb me. Is it clear?"

Hermione straightene, disgusted. That's not how they've been behaved during last months!

"I came to work here, not to BURD you," she huffed and grabbed her lips. "Excuse me, it's because of the Veritaserum ... I mean ... Stop talking on the topic before you say something dumb again ... "What if I want to ask for something that can't wait? Something you're doing right at that moment?" She asked, her voice a little thinner than usual.

Her professor looked at her for a moment in silence.

"Raise your hand. I'll let you know when you can speak up. I am not going to render the potion useless for your colleagues because I have to answer endless questions."

Hermione was about to protest, but she just bit her lower lip.

Snape placed the hops tincture bottle and the beetle-eyed jar on the table and showed them with a short gesture.

"You were supposed to brew Calming Draught today, so I expect you to know the instruction and what the most crucial steps of brewing are. I DON'T ASK about that," he snarled as Hermione took a deep breath. "Watch, then I will answer your questions."

All morning she watched him chopping, slicing, slashing or cupping different ingredients, add them to the cauldron, and stirred according to the instruction. He must have already had brewed a base potion because he hadn't started from the very beginning. He was focused and completely absorbed in what he was doing. Several times she wanted to ask him about something, but only noted down the questions for later.

After one o'clock, her stomach began to rumble. She knew in ten minutes the brew would have to be set aside for cooling, which should take about an hour, so she started dreaming about something to eat. Diagon Alley was right next to it, and there were plenty of places to grab a bite to eat ... She recalled The Scabby Troll and their Roast Dinner she had eaten there a few months ago and this idea made her mouth water.

Exactly ten minutes later Snape stirred the potion last time, tapped the ladle on the edge, and placed it on the stand.

"You have exactly one hour off. Of course, if you want to watch the end of the process", he said without even looking at her.

Hermione slid off the stool, took two steps towards the door, and stopped.

"Aren't you going to dinner?" She asked uncertainly.

"No."

"Can I bring you something? I do not know..."

Snape raised his head sharply.

"Do you want to bring food to the potions lab ?! Are you crazy, Granger ?!"

"Not to the lab ..."

"And it's YOU the Ministry sends for inspection ?!"

"... but to your lunch room downstairs ... "

"... That's just pathetic!"

"... where did Chase eat last time!"

They shouted the last sentences together; he clearly enraged, she trying to defend herself, and then there was a sudden silence. In this silence one could hear their rapid breathing.

Snape stared at her for a moment longer, then turned abruptly to the table.

"I'm not hungry. Go away."

Hermione wanted to say something else, but she didn't know what. She could only feel a lump in her throat, so she quickly walked to the door and pushed it. They didn't move , so she pushed them harder.

"Alohomora!" She snapped and practically ran into the corridor.

Damn, damn, damn ! Why can't it be as quiet as last time ?!

She thought earlier she should eat Roasty Dinner but actually she didn't want it anymore. Of course she was still starving, but she couldn't even think about what to eat, so she bought a corned beef sandwich and forced her to eat.

As she walked forward, she replied in her mind their dispute from a moment before. Her gaze flickered over the windows, over the people she passed, but her mind did not register either decorative plates and cups, children's brooms, or individual faces. Until she noticed something familiar. Some yellow and green advertising poster showed a wand and bonne, crossed.

Clinic! Sure, go find out what happened to Chase! You promised that to Powell! Besides, you'll stop torturing yourself with that stupid shouting match!

The easiest way was to Apparate at home and Flooed straight to the Clinic, so Hermione didn't hesitate anymore, just desapparated from Diagon Alley. Then she Flooed at the Poisoning Ward. No one except the employees could travel to the clinic in this way – for that, you had to be marked with a special identification spell, which you received when becoming a Healer in St. Mungo.

"Hermione?" She heard the voice of Margarita, a colleague from the second shift. "Holy dog, but you look nice ...!"

"Good morning, Marga. And thank you!" She replied with a smile.

In the clinic, in HER clinic, in a familiar place, among people she knew, she immediately felt better. Uff!

'"Something happened? They didn't call you suddenly, did you?" Margarita worried and walked over to her with a tray full of potions vials. " Nothing really happens, except that in the morning somebody brought us a cat that was sick as a dog."

"Up here?"

"No, he staid on the Reception Area, but Stan was called to have a look at him. So what are you doing here?"

"I missed you," Hermione muttered. "I need to see Mathias. Have a nice day, Marga and until Monday!"

"Lucky you," she heard again as she headed for the office of the Main Healer.

He wasn't in the office, that didn't surprise her at all, so she started to check the Floor asking about him. One of her colleagues finally sent her to the Duck Room (room number 2, on the door of which a visiting child had once painted clumsily yellow ducklings, and it remained that way).

Indeed, she found Mathias there. He was trying to convince a new patient to drink a vomit potion. He waved his hand to greet her, then clearly lost his patience, and when the man tilted the vial in an attempt to dip his tongue into it, he unexpectedly lifted it and held it to his mouth. Immediately there was a chocking, and the man began to vomit.

"Finally!" Mathias smiled broadly. "Now you will feel better! Mackled is inedible!"

After the vomiting was over, he cast Scougrify and walked over to Hermione.

"Though it's better to eat than to be bitten. Then for a week you're bloody unlucky," 'he said in a philosophical tone. "Good morning, Hermione. What are you doing here? You are not supposed to be in the Lab?"

The girl laughed softly.

"Good morning, Mathias. Yes, I am. Or I was. Oh, I mean we're just taking a break. But I'm here to find out what happened yesterday. Chase Griffin is dead ..."

"Oh shit!" Mathias sighed and leaned against the wall in the corridor. "You didn't get my owl?"

"I left quite early in the morning, it probably hasn't arrived yet. What happened? Who can tell me something?"

"I can. Come to my office and I'll explain everything to you."

They walked into Mathias' office, a tiny, dingy room with no window, and Hermione sat down in a wooden chair while Mathias reached for the death report.

"He died at home. Michael from the Artefacts was there, but he told us this morning that there was nothing he could do."

"Has a cauldron exploded in his house or something ?! Hermione was surprised and felt that she didn't understand something. "Then why did they send him back to us?"

"Because Michael arrived there by… mistake. Just because Snape run into him in the Reception Area. Griffin was already dying when they came. Michael checked with his spell that everything in his midsection was broken. Lungs, intestines, stomach, liver… Somehow the heart was still beating. "Mathias explained, looking at the report. "But seconds after they entered, Griffin bleed into his lungs and suffocated."

"Dear God…!," Hermione whispered.

"Exactly, my dear. And since Snape suspects a murder, according to the procedure, we brought the body for a more detailed examination."

This time Hermione turned pale.

"A MURDER? Someone tried to kill Chase?"

"Let's put it this way. Either he poisoned himself or was poisoned. Anyone who diagnosed a cadaver or saw a detailed report will agree."

Hermione held out her hand without a word, but Mathias shook his head.

"Believe me, you don't want to see this. It was horrible. "

"Mathias ..."

"Come back to the Lab. Finish this inspection quickly and go home to rest. And if you come across Harry by accident, say hello to him."

"For Harry ...?" Hermione was clearly not keeping up with him.

Mathias walked to the door and opened it for her.

"Snape called for the Aurors and requested an official investigation."

Hermione left his office automatically and went to the fireplace. That's why he's so weird today! It must have been really horrible if it shocked even HIM ... Or maybe it is Harry who is in charge and that's why he was in such a bad mood ...

She stared at the fireplace for a moment, then Flooed to herself and Apparated from there to Winding Alley. Sitting on an uncomfortable high stool, she watched Severus Snape adding the final ingredients to the cauldron. She followed his every move, but she couldn't focus on it. Instead, she subconsciously observed his behavior, trying to compare it with what she had learned from Mathias.

He was clearly disturbed today, though she didn't understand why so much.

From school, she remembered how, upon entering, he would bag the door against the wall, moved constantly between their benches, and strode along the corridors. Every movement of the wand, every word was charged with energy. Today however he was ... different.

She forced herself to precise what she saw. He was ... subdued. As if he was preoccupied with something else, or on the contrary, as if something constantly distracted him and prevented him from being himself. He moved slower than ever, his shoulders slightly drooping and his head bowed. Except for a brief speech in the morning and arguing at noon, he didn't say anything at all, not even to berate her as she shifted on her stool or took notes.

And even this arguing was weird. He was screaming instead of just making some vicious remarks at her. And when they finished screaming, he was breathing heavily.

She looked at him even more closely. He had just poured the elixir into small bottles and was stoppering them. As he set the last of them aside, he rubbed his fingers at his temple, as if his head ached. Anyway, he held it slightly tilted to one side. Certainly not because he didn't want to look at me!

Alarmed by this, she put down her quill and folded back almost empty sheet of parchment.

"Can I help you, Sir?"

He shook his head. Instead of snarling at me. Damn, something's wrong with him ...

And suddenly a terrifying thought flashed through her mind. What if it didn't end with Chase ? !

"Sir ..." she slipped abruptly off the stool and walked over to him.

"I told you I don't need any help" - He gave her a short, reluctant look.

"Yes, I know, but ..."

"There is no "but", Miss Granger."

"How do you feel? Is something wrong with you?" she blurted out.

Snape froze, and this time he clearly looked surprised.

"I beg your pardon?"

Hermione bit her lips nervously.

"I see that you are feeling bad today ..."

"Granger, we're not in the Clinic."

"It doesn't matter where we are. There is clearly something wrong with you. You just have to ..."

"We are in my lab, and it is not you who will tell me what to do!"

Damn it! How can I reason him ?!

"Sir, we are talking about your health!"

"Granger, if you don't understand what I'm saying, get out of here!"

Shit! I am not allowed to say what I suspect!

"What are you waiting for ?!"

With old energy he walked up to her and grabbed her hand! Oh, bugger the rules !

"Chase felt bad, too ! What if you ate that thing too ?!" She exploded.

Snape froze, his eyes narrowed with anger for a moment, then slowly loosened his grip.

"Maybe it's nothing special! Or, if this poison is detected early, an antidote can be prepared ?" Hermione was saying frantically. "Please, let me help you! Sir ..."

She looked up at him, pleading look at her face, and held her breath.

"I don't want ... something to happen to you." God, not this time!

It took a long time for him to speak.

"What you want to know?"

"Your head hurts? Stomach? Heart?" She asked quickly, remembering what Mathias had said.

"Head. A little, not really," he replied reluctantly.

"Did you take a pain relief potion or dragon scales? Any salves?"

"No."

"Do you feel dizzy or nauseous? Or..."

"None of these."

"Let me cast some diagnostic spells," Hermione reached for her wand and waited for permission.

Snape nodded, so she closed her eyes and, muttering spells, began to slowly and methodically move her wand over his head, shoulders, chest ... she slowed down at his ribs, passed it over his waist and hips, came back over his chest and froze.

"Sir ... I think it will be better if we go to the Clinic. Now. Immediately."

Institute of Infectious and Tropical Diseases

London, 5pm.

Professor Neumann wrote down the reference number of Ebola sample from Uganda, from 2001, that he needed and began looking for a telephone number for the Pasteur Institute in Paris, where the latest vaccine research was being carried out. Jean-Pierre Charasse who worked there, one of the best virologists and epidemiologists in the world, was a good friend of his, so Neumann decided to discuss with him.

Before he copied the number into his notebook, however, there was a knock on the door and Dr. Roberts, his assistant, entered.

"Professor, you wanted to know when something new would happen," she walked over and handed him a pad. "They just found two other cases. In Mitchelstown and Kingswells."

"What is their condition? Can we see them?"

"Unfortunately not. The deaths occurred a few days ago. Each time the victims died alone, at home. They did not call for help."

Neumann and Roberts looked at each other, and each knew what the other was thinking.

"Beth, you know it's impossible," Neumann finally said.

"Do you have the results of the sample from Manchester?"

"Not yet," he replied. The results were strange and he didn't understand any of it, so he had told to take another sample and start from the beginning.

"If it's Ebola, then ..."

"If it's Ebola, it's not a normal epidemic," Neumann interrupted. "We have three cases, in three different places, but at similar times. Three Patients Zero? Several clusters? Besides, not in England! Ebola occurs in tropics! I put on an extra sweater this morning!"

Dr. Roberts sat down heavily in the folding chair.

"Perhaps all three have recently been to Africa?"

Neumann looked at the records of the other two victims.

"A translator with a diagnosed case of autism and an unemployed elderly woman? No, Beth, and you know it."

Dr. Roberts stared at him, clearly unable to say it aloud.

"Alexander the Great was the first to start doing it. He catapulted the infected bodies through the defensive walls so that he could later enter and finish the dying. Since then, technology has advanced a lot, my dear."