Published 25th. of September, 2020
Powell's Potion Laboratory
18.00
Laboratory number eight
The two Aurors didn't show up in the Lab until around two o'clock. They spent the morning in St. Mungo, participating in the diagnosis of the cause of death and then talking to the Healers for a long time. Paul in particular inquired about details, fuming at the special jargon they used. Later, they returned to Auror Headquarters to review already developed, magical photographs.
"I don't understand why, the hell, you're putting them in all your magic crap," Roger asked the photographer. "They're dead! What's going to move here?!"
"Nothing really moves on it," the photographer agreed. "But in some you can see blood dripping or convulsions, or the body dissolving ..."
Paul, who was eating a candy bar, set it abruptly aside.
"Jeremy, spare us the details, okay ?! It's extremely disgusting!"
When they arrived at the Lab, Powell told them that Severus Snape was just finishing brewing an extremely important potion and that he must not be disturbed. So they talked to the rest of the staff and finally went to the lab where, according to Snape, Griffin found the Chocolate Frog.
"We certainly won't find chocolate tadpoles here," Paul said. "How do we share the taf? Are you doing situational analysis or I?"
"I can do," his partner agreed. There was no need to go all fours in the situational analysis, which suited him very well.
So Paul began to look around the lab for possible tracks, and Roger drew a plan of the lab, the positioning of furniture, doors and windows, and began to write down what exactly was in it. And he had a lot to write down!
After half an hour he broke down.
"Y'know what, I'll go get Jeremy," he said, setting down on the table a two-foot-long parchment with indistinct scribbles. "Wait for me, okay?"
Paul, who was analyzing the probing spells, only nodded. Roger pushed the door and instinctively stepped forward. And he felt a sharp pain in his forearm and head.
"Sod it! Alohomora!"
The door unlocked and Roger rolled down the stairs, still cursing under his breath.
"Bloody security and safety freaks, goddamn it. And everyone says we're sico! From today, I do not even close the door in the loo!"
Paul added Evanesco to the list of spells that had been used recently in this room and set it aside. He will deal with it later. Now it was time to look at the physical marks.
He examined the stone sink carefully. It was a little cracked inside, and there were a few cracks around the drain, so he looked at them closely but found nothing. He knelt on the floor and leaned over to look up to the light.
Apart from a thin layer of dust on the light gray surface, there were no lint, threads from clothes, hair or even crumbs of ingredients.
He started looking at the table, that was empty except of three burners, he examined the stools and went down to the floor. And there he finally saw something. There was a faint, dark spot near the table leg.
"... everything, because I have had enough. My hand hurts from writing," he heard Roger's panting voice.
"No problem. I will start from the left, so get off," Jeremy replied.
Paul cast Lumos, leaned over and scrutinized his finding.
"You have something?" Roger asked.
"I have. Something dripped here, it looks like chocolate ..."
"DO NOT TOUCH!"
Paul jumped up and hit his head on the bottom of the table.
"Don't bloody yell l! I'm not touching! What are you talking about?!" He groaned, eyes tightening in pain.
Roger pulled his partner's hand and helped him to his feet.
"Sorry. But I was afraid you would touch it."
"Don't worry, I wouldn't have touched anything before taking the pictures."
A flash flashed and the smell of burning magnesia spread in the room.
"Okay, that wall is ready," Jeremy muttered, and walked over to them. "Shooting anything for you guys?"
Paul pushed the stool back and showed the stain on the floor.
"Shoot it, very closely. But don't touch."
"What's your problem with touching?"
"If you don't want to kick the bucket like that guy yesterday, don't even look at it," Paul explained. "Snape suspects poisoned chocolate."
Jeremy was pouring magnesia into the tray next to the camera. His hand shook and a bit of powder fell onto the floor.
"Shit. Then get out of here, I'll try to shoot sitting on my ass."
Paul waited out the photo to be taken and began to scratch off the dark spot. Then he spread a special evidence-holding envelope on the floor, sending the tiny crumbs to the center with a spell and closed it.
"What are you going to do with it?" Roger asked.
"Man, I'm not going to eat it, calm down. I'll give it to Augie, so he analyze it."
Jeremy shot the rest of the lab and the three of them left.
"Finally weekend..." Jeremy sighted, stretching. "If you want, give me this chocolate and gotta go. I have to bring the camera to the Headquarters so I can drop it off for Augustus."
"Thanks, but I have to go back anyway," Paul objected. "Have a nice weekend!"
Roger yawned goodbye and the three of them desapparated outside the building.
St. Mungo, 18:00
"I don't see anything alarming," Mathias said, moving his wand over Severus Snape's torso. "These are just changes in the muscles caused by too strong and prolonged contractions."
Hermione exhaled loudly and leaned against the wall. So far, very tensed she had followed Mathias' every move and waited for the verdict.
"I've never seen anything like this," she muttered apologetically.
"You were not supposed to see? War heroes not often arrive to Poisoning."
Snape also breathed a sigh of relief. He did not show it, although not without an effort. In addition to the last, grim events, fatigue and headache, that luckily faded, he was convinced that he will share his friend's horrible fate and really, he started to have enough.
"Are you done? Am I allowed to leave now?"
Mathias nodded and handed over a vial containing Healing potion.
"I suggest you to eat a decent dinner, drink the potion and go to sleep. Otherwise you are not going to last long".
"I shall manage."
"Just like a moment ago," Mathias snapped.
"I didn't ask for help," Snape snapped back.
Hermione sent him angry look and made to the door.
"Wonderful. Have a nice weekend, professor Snape!"
"See you on Monday, Miss Granger."
"Tuesday."
"Great idea."
„I think that, too. I have more important things to do on Monday," she said quickly and slammed the door as she left.
Snape didn't have time to answer. He gritted his teeth and began adjusting his working clothes. Mathias looked at him intently.
"Don't be so hard on her. She doesn't deserve it, really."
"On the contrary, she does. I didn't ask for help" Snape repeated with stubborn look."It will be much better for this Clinic if Miss Granger will stop seeing things".
Mathias had angelic patience, but he also had his limits.
"Just hear me out, professor. There is no more Miss Granger. Now there is Healer Granger. Hermione is first and foremost a Healer, and perfect one. She cares about her patients very much and always does everything to help them and save them from pain and suffering. Which you've probably experienced enough."
Snape got up and reached for the potion.
"Perhaps. There is only one little problem. I'm not her patient."
"No, you are not. And she regrets it very much." Mathias held the door with his hand.
Snape didn't answer, just raised an eyebrow in question.
"You've never discussed with Hermione why she became a Healer?" Mathias asked softly, which somehow calmed Snape down. "Most of all because of you. After the end of the Second War, Hermione suffered a post-traumatic shock. She blamed herself for the deaths of those who died in the battle and those who died later as a result of their wounds. She tried to heal them but couldn't. But fist of all, she reproached herself that she had left you in the Shrieking Shack and even not checked if you were still alive."
"She didn't know yet which side I was on," Snape said matter-of-factly, listening carefully.
"Oh, bugger it! You've known Hermione a lot longer than I. This girl has always defended all vulnerable persons! She was defending house elves. Even that crazy Harry's elf who was spitting on her all the time! Do you think she could leave a dying man without remorse ?!"
Snape nodded.
"Acceptable. What else?"
"Nothing else," Mathias snorted and came to his senses. "There was also the loss of her parents. Shortly after your trial, the Ministry sent two Aurors to Australia who had been looking for them for only four days and returned with nothing. Hermione broke down. She began to avoid people, holed up among Muggles, even refused to use magic. Eventually, Harry managed to drag her to the Clinic and the Mind Healers took care of her. It took two moths to get her out of this, though she didn't fully recovered. And that time Hermione decided to become a Healer. She wanted to feel useful, to help people, and not to shuffle documents in Ministry. Although I have the impression that she is just trying to repent other people' sins."
The two men stared at each other for a moment.
"This is very touching, but I don't need a mother," Snape finally said.
'Just consider what I told you."
"I will. Now, however, let me leave. If I am not mistaken, you ordered me to rest."
Mathias opened the door for him, Snape nodded at him, and left. Mathias watched him striding long corridor until he reached the back staircase. Then he looked around for Hermione.
The girl was standing on the other side of the corridor, by the window facing the street. In heels and in narrow black clothes, she looked terribly fragile.
"Look at that crazy man over there," he said, standing behind her and showing a young boy in a down jacket and slippers on his bare feet. "This one has very special fashion sense!"
Hermione shrugged, but then burst out laughing.
"I see you've finally freed my honorable professor from your stupid company?"
"It worked better than a dozen Healing potions. He'll be fine. But I think he appreciates you brought him here."
"Sure. I just saw. What are these changes in muscles?" – she changed the subject.
"Too much contractions. Too long," Mathias replied. "When you are in very severe pain, all your muscles will contract. And when it takes too long, even after the pain has subsided, the muscles cannot relax. Then you get contraction spasms for a while. If someone makes any physical effort while his muscles are still contracted, the muscle tissue cracks. These wounds heal over time, but there are always scars, especially on the deeper ones."
"Cruciatus," Hermione whispered.
"He Who Must Not Be Named had to take it out on him."
"Oh my God..."
Mathias hold her gently and gave her a reassuring hug.
"It's not your fault, Hermione. None of what happened then is your fault. Just like it's not Harry or Ron's fault. It just happened. If you weren't there, it would have happened anyway. And you know it perfectly well."
In response, he heard a soft "umm".
"But if it goes on like this, I will have to change my specialization because of you and become Mind Healer. And then what will you do without me?" he added cheerfully.
Hermione replied with a faint smile and pulled away.
"I guess I'd better get home."
"Go home and rest."
Ministry of Magic, Auror Headquarters
Evening
Harry was gathering his things as Paul entered Headquarters.
"Still at work?" He said as he hurried past him.
"I'm done, unlike you," said Harry.
He stripped off the Auror suit, draped it over the back of his chair, and walked over to Paul's cubicle.
"So how are you doing with Snape?"
"To the hell with that," Paul gritted his teeth. "Be glad you missed it."
Harry sat on the edge of the desk and braced with his right leg.
"Is he really a pain in the ass?"
"It's not that. The guy is dead. There are no traces in his house or in his lab, except for such a small amount of chocolate that it is simply impossible to find anything in it. Nobody but him went in there, nobody saw, heard or knows anything. And I don't see the motive. There's only Snape's hypothesis that his buddy was poisoned. I'll agree with that a bit. I suppose he ate something, got poisoned by the fumes, or when he screwed up some potion and that's it," Paul blurted out.
"Crap," Harry sighed. "I did not think ... I'm sorry it turned out that way."
"Don't worry, mate. Sometime it happens." Paul tapped him on the shoulder. "Okay, I'm on my way, too. Maybe I can catch Augie."
They left together and Paul walked quickly to the Research Office. There was a small group of people working there who were experts in various areas and were doing all the analyzes necessary for the investigation. Of course, the priorities were related to the Dark Arts.
Augie had already left, so Paul left an envelope with crumbs of chocolate on his desk and wrote a short note.
"Augie, take a look at this. Thanks, Paul. "
Saturday evening, April 19th
Dover-Folkstone Coast, England
Harris apparated on the beach and looked around carefully. He was alone. The wide sandy beach was closed on both sides by larger and smaller cliffs descending far into the sea. It was separated from the land by a rock several yards high; Harris could hardly see the clumps of grass that lined the uneven slope. A fierce wind tugged them violently in all directions, as if to tear them up by the roots. There was certainly no danger that a Muggle would run into them.
Satisfied, he walked over to the great tree trunk thrown up by the sea. It was draped with seaweed and wet, as was the dark sand around it, indicating that the low tide had just recently started. Harris used a spell to clear a piece of the trunk large enough for him to lean comfortably against and gaze out over the rough sea.
Great waves rolled towards him, broke with a bang, and immediately backed away, turning the seashore into a white strip of hissing and bubbling foam. He could have sworn nature was just arguing with itself. Every now and then it seemed to soften, the waves softened, but only to renew their assault even more fiercely, with even more fury. Unharnessed nature was determined never to give up and fight this fight for all eternity.
Harris was watching a seagull struggling toward the sea when Peter apparated near him. At the sight of him, he waved his hand and called something, but the wind immediately swept away his words.
"It is raining cats and dogs," he gasped as he finally reached him.
" You know why the Old Man called us for?" Harris asked. He didn't feel like talking about the weather.
"I have no idea," Peter shrugged and wrapped the scarf around his throat. "Maybe he has some news about Griffin?"
This was exactly what Harris was afraid of. If the Old Man didn't wait a week but called them today, he must have had a good reason.
They waited a little longer, and Harris's clenched teeth began to ache.
Suddenly, a few yards away, two people Apparated and began to fight against the wind toward them. One of them was their boss, but they didn't recognize the other. A tall, broad-shouldered man with a thick black beard, mustache, and surprisingly blue eyes. Nothing about this man rang a bell to them.
"He involved someone else?" Harris muttered, his concern increasing.
"What?"
"Nothing, never mind" - It was just about to turn out, so why speculate.
The two men finally reached them. They stopped a few feet away, and their boss waved at the well-build man standing nearby.
"This is Gratus."
Harris and Peter nodded at him and waited for the presentation, but it did not come.
"I have bad news for you," their boss continued. "I found out that Griffin died because he ate a chocolate frog. Does this tell you something?"
"But ..." Harris muttered, looking at Peter.
"But you caught it," said Peter immediately.
"One wanted to escape us, but we caught it!" Harris replied eagerly.
"I don't care what happened! You screwed up! Worse still, you have left chocolate frozen on the floor. The Aurors found it and had it analyzed. But it is not everything. Muggle Healers found both the woman on whom you recently tested the potion, and the man on whom you tested the first sample. Harris, how did you picked up the victims? For single people, they must have good friends among Healers if they found them that easily!"
Harris grimaced and clenched his fists helplessly. He wanted to say something, but he had no idea what ... Besides, it didn't make sense anymore. He knew. He already knew why the Old Man had brought someone else here.
„You screwed everything up thoroughly from the beginning to the end! The whole plan is hanging in the balance!"
Harris did not deny it. In some strange way, he felt his sense of perception had sharpened. Suddenly he felt the wind on his face more clearly. He heard the crunch of sand flowing into the sea ... He felt Peter standing beside him shaking like a leaf.
„Avada Kedavra!"
A green light flashed and Harris collapsed heavily to the ground. Peter felt his crotch getting wet and hot. He gasped and froze, squeezing his eyes shut. Merlin, this is a dream! Merlin, Merlin, Merlin, please ... !
"Get rid of the body, Gratus," he heard. „Peterson, I'm giving you one last chance."
! ! ! ! !
When he dared to open his eyelids, he was alone. Only the footprints in the sand near him said it wasn't a dream after all.
He glanced around frantically and quickly spun on his heel to escape this nightmare.
Institute of Infectious and Tropical Diseases
London
Professor Neumann looked at a new sample from the blood of a man who died yesterday. He adjusted the focus, exposure and looked for a familiar form of the virus. He wanted and at the same time did not want to find it.
But, as in the previous sample, he hadn't seen it.
He flipped through sample book from 1976 with descriptions . The virus looked similar in every photo.
It had the shape of a shepherd's crook, of a "U" or of a "6, clear structural proteins, the only other thing was the curvature at the end of the RNA chain, but it all depended on the strain.
There was nothing like that in his samples. There was NO virus at all.
He reached for an antibody analysis. The result was negative, both for yesterday's deaths and for the two previous ones.
Suddenly, an extension telephone rang in the room next door. Neumann left the microscope and went quickly to answer it.
"Neumann."
"Professor Neumann, we have another case," he heard his assistant's voice. "In London, not far from us. Unfortunately, the woman is already dead, the death occurred yesterday morning, but she was found only now."
"Do we know more?"
"Same as the previous ones." Neumann rested the handset on his shoulder, pressed with his chin, and began to hurriedly note down the data his assistant was giving him.
"Make them send us two or three vials of blood here. Immediately."
Two hours later they were both standing at the microscope, silently studying the sample. Perfectly clean, no shepherd's crook, no antibodies. If they did not know the cause of death, they would say it was natural. Unfortunately, the truth was different.
Dr. Roberts turned to him and removed her mask and cap.
"What is this, professor Neumann?"
"Someone's playing, Beth."
Saturday, April 19th
Powell's Potions Lab, 20.00
Mia finished cleaning the lunch room and checked her watch. Ten after eight.
She checked the time more and more often for the past hour, trying to hurry to finish before eight, but she had spent more time cleaning the shower, there was more to wash in the lunch room, and here you go, she was ten minutes late.
It wasn't about going home, but about avoiding the old coot who was guarding the Lab. She hated him. He was disgusting. Half bald, with large floppy ears, smelling of stale pipe smoke ... and having that idiotic allusions! Everything he was talking about was connected to sex. He suggested that she was late because she wanted to please her husband, he advised to change into a dress before she left, because that should work for her husband ... Merlin, perverted old coot! He was so blind that he wouldn't have read the word SEX, even if he used a magnifying glass, and he talked as if he still could do that!
Fortunately, he's just as deaf.
She quickly gathered all the garbage into a bag, tied it, shrank it, and threw it into a cart with a magical dust remover, brushes and different cleaning fluids. Then she cast Alohomora, opened the door a little, and listened for a minute. But there was silence everywhere.
Either he shuffled upstairs or he is sitting in his cubby hole and dozing.
She whispered Silencio to the wheels of her cart, pushed it out quickly into the hallway, and, casting Colloportus over her shoulder, practically raced down the hall until she reached the normal door, closed with a normal dork knob. She always wondered why lab technicians had everywhere the swinging door so that they could open it hands-free and she didn't have. She had to open it, lit the crystal bubbles, support it with her back so it wouldn't close, struggle with the cart ...
This time it was even more complicated, because at the same time she had to be careful not to hit anything and not to make noise.
Once she closed the door behind her, she wiped her forehead and exhaled with triumph.
With a single push, she put the cart back into place, with a short wave of her wand she emptied the bucket of perfumed cleaning water, hung up the brushes on the wall and reached for her spring cloak.
She wrapped it around her shoulders, grabbed shrunken garbage bags, and opened the second door that opened onto a small, enclosed backyard.
There were three garbage cans - one for the normal garbage, two for the potion wastes, and, she didn't know what for, a carpet hanger. Mia tossed the shrunken bags away, focused on her own home and spun on her heel.
And with a soft crack she disappeared.
Sunday, April 20, Cokeworth, Spinner's End
Early afternoon,
Severus Snape dipped his long, narrow finger into the jar of Moonstone powder, moved it carefully over the gold cauldron, and tapped it gently. Just a few glistening motes fell down.
"Separatum potions," he whispered, and made a complicated wand movement.
In an instant a thin layer of chocolate water boiled, froze just as quickly, something in it moved and ceased moving.
Snape pushed the open book aside, set the glass beaker down, and very carefully moved the contents of the cauldron into it with a spell.
"Evanesco. Aguamenti. Depulso" he pointed his want to the sink and the cauldron floated towards it slowly, swaying slightly from side to side, but not a drop of water spilled from it.
Snape picked up the glass beaker and held the contents up to the light. At the bottom was a smudge of brown, thick goo, and at the top of it a few drops of some liquid was floating.
Yesterday he had spent the whole day brewing a retaining solution into which he intended to pour the separated ingredients of the chocolate crumbs. Assuming it was a chocolate with poison, he separated the two mixtures and only then planned to separate the poison ingredients.
I wonder what the Aurors will do with that other spot. He smirked.
For this a gold cauldron and not very popular spell were necessary. He sincerely doubted the Aurors had gold cauldron and he was already imagining them analyzing ALL ingredients, including chocolate.
Waiting for the chocolate to solidify and simply drain off the poison, he went to eat potatoes and steak. When he returned, the chocolate was already rigid, so he poured the poison into a thin vial, put it in a beaker with hot water and warmed it till is started to simmer.
"Separatum Ingrediens."
For a moment nothing happened, but finally a tinny air bubble rose up from the bottom of the vial, drifted upward, and the ingredients started to separate. Colorful streaks swirled slowly together, moving gracefully, falling to the bottom, then rising up with a grace beyond words. It was like a sensual lovers dance, full of lightest caress, poesy and beauty.
This beauty was one of the reasons why Severus loved the art of potions brewing. He had sold his heart and soul to it. He could look at this forever.
However, he had a lot of work, that he absolutely had to finish today, so with a sigh of disappointment, he put the vial back on its holder and prepared 9 vials with the retaining solution. The solution was completely clear, but the consistency was like thick jelly.
Then he reached for a thin glass spatula and, drop by drop, began to collect the first layer and immersed it into the vial with the retaining solution. When he finished a quarter of an hour later, he warmed the poison again and began collecting the second layer. And then the next one and the next…
He finished five hours later. It was time to clean up. Fortunately, the ingredients in the retaining solution could be kept for weeks without losing their properties.
Tuesday, April 22th
Ministry of Magic, Research Office
09.00
Augie read the note from Paul, examined the envelope of chocolate crumbs, and sighed heavily. Precious little shit. If I find something, it will be a miracle. He didn't really feel like doing it, but he decided to do it for Paul.
He poured a little water into a tiny copper cauldron, poured the contents of the envelope, tossed Moonstone powder inside and warmed it, then cast Separatum Ingrediens.
For a moment the dark slurry moved as if a herd of snakes were writhing beneath the surface and stopped. Augie poured it into a glass beaker and scowled looking at the colored mixture.
A nightmare, just a nightmare.
All the ingredients had separated, and now there was plenty of clumped rubbish at the bottom of beaker.
Augie glanced at it and got the impression that there were two layers in some places. As if someone had eaten very copious meal and puked it all up.
He slipped inside what looked like a crochet hook, chose the white ingredient at first, and still scowling began to pull it out onto a thin glass plate. When he was finally done with it, he rubbed the back of his neck, warmed the content of the beaker with a spell, and started to remove something pale yellow.
Groaning, propping his head up and cursing under his breath, after two hours he finished picking out the one before last ingredient. The last, dense one, he just scratched with a spoon and then had to throw it out onto the glass plate.
In total, he had 21 glass plates. Some of the ingredients didn't separate perfectly, and apart from the main one, there were remains of others on the plate, but he couldn't help it.
Augie took a break for two chocoballs and coffee. He pushed his chair back and almost lay down on it.
"What is this?" One of his colleagues asked as he passed by and glanced at the wreckage on the table. It was special, indeed.
Augie swallowed the strawberry mousse quickly.
"Ingredients of the potion."
"Looks like Pixies burst in and blew everything up."
They both laughed before Augie patted his thick neck.
"Can you massage? 'Cause it bloody hurts!"
His colleague laughed even louder and shook his head.
"Augie, Augie, you'll never give up, huh?"
Augie chuckled as he took his legs off the chair and went back to the stuff.
The worst was still before him. Now he had to guess what it might have been.