Harry Potter and the Puppetmaster of Hogwarts, Chapter 12
AN: I don't own anything but my own plot and word choice. As always, I urge you to review and check on my poll, yadda yadda yadda. Now that all the serious stuff out of the way, I just want to say that I hope you enjoy. Poor Severus has a potions accident for the first time in years!
Severus Snape was in his element. Once the initial shock had worn off, he began to explore the laboratory, unable to resist the temptation. He felt as though he were thirteen again, the first time he'd ever been to Honeyduke's. After a little time spent simply reverently staring, he pulled out a copy of a very rare potions grimoire to read.
It was utterly amazing. Potions Master Virgilius Tarquinius Mirabilis was a very famous Potions Master from as far back as ancient Rome, and no complete work of his had ever been found...until now. Not to mention that whatever it would have cost to buy or even borrow such a work would be far more than Severus could have ever afforded, even if he had been able to take up his lordship, which he hadn't.
This was a whole, lost work. He started in on it at once, unable to help himself. His Latin was not the best, but that didn't matter, because he was reading something that had been hidden in Salazar Slytherin's own personal laboratory for centuries, something that was a work of art in itself, without even counting the innovations, and which was utterly irreplaceable.
He managed to get about halfway through the book before he had to stop and attempt one of the recipes.
The potion, from an outsider's perspective, didn't actually look like all that much. It was a simple, cold-brewed paste which prevented heat or steel from harming someone's skin- essentially an ointment which was a prototype for the oral flame-freezing potions of the modern era- labeled in the book as Circe's Ointment, after an African witch who had saved the Greek hero Jason while on a quest. Nothing much, unless you were a Potions Master.
To Severus, it might have been the Holy Grail, despite his having his own copy in Potions of the Ancient World. Although the older potions manuals and tomes frequently mentioned the miscelata method, modern potioneers had not been able to replicate; since it was supposedly a very easy technique, known to all the ancient Potion Masters- and even brewers, no one had ever thought to write it down, thus driving the Potions scholars nearly mad trying to find out how the process worked. But here the method was written out in full, in the notes added by a Medeval monk, who had apparently decided to add his own spin to the potions book that he was transcribing.
"Miscelata," said the monk, "is the term for the process used here, a process very common in cold-brewed potions. The term, in Italian, means 'blended', which is exactly what it is. The usual textbook method is simply to crush the ingredients of the cold-brew, usually herbs, as animal parts tend to be needed to be cooked so the potion will not be spoiled, in a simple stone morter until they are a fine, sticky paste, which must then be mixed with any liquid ingredients or water there might be and then left to ferment, usually for thirty days if it does not say otherwise.
"The final step, the one that gives the process it's name, is that the cold-brew must be blended well and by hand: no spells will suffice. This technique is usually used when making ointments, salves, and pastes, as the and result is often thick and the types of ingredients tend to be limited to only what will not spoil during the cold-brewing process, without the use of preservation charms (which will retard the fermentation process)."
He had struck gold. He was the first potioneer who knew the process since Humphrey Davy to know the miscelata process.
He immediately had to stop reading and whip up a batch of the potion, leaving it at last in it's standard-issue cold-brew copper cauldron, with a cloth covering it, to ferment. It was the right color, the right consistency...now all that he had to do was wait thirty for the days. And so he went back to reading Virgillius's grimoire.
Then another potion caught his eye, a potion that, if drunk, would crush the mental shields and render the mind totally open to attack, making him shudder to think what would have happened if Voldemort (or Dumbledore, for that matter) got a hold of it, and, of even more immediate interest, the counter to the previously mentioned potion, a potion which could help your mind to recover being breached and even proactively build shields in a vulnerable mind. What was more, it was not at all a Dark potion, unlike the only current potion for enhancing occlumensy, which contained human blood and organs as well as several absolutely appalling ingredients that, to Severus's mind, made the potion to unpalatable to use even if it was legal.
This potion, on the other hand, contained mostly herbs, grated roots, crushed freshwater pearls and dragon scales, and spices, although it did require a few drops of unicorn saliva, as a catalyst. All the same, it was not that bad, especially for such a valuable potion, and very easy to brew. And indeed, most potions habitually used in the hospital wing contained ingredients that the drinkers probably didn't want to know about, like kelpie snot; in light of that, the potion was positively delicious. And even if it hadn't been, it was far too useful for anyone to turn up their noses at, anyway.
Before long, Severus had made the mind-shielding potion, too. Within half an hour he was brewing half a dozen potions at the same time, synchronizing them carefully. He probably shouldn't be doing that after having just recovered from...well...whatever had confined him to a sick bed; he didn't exactly know what, but the part of him that had always been denied its chance to just brew and experiment for pure enjoyment had a stronger mental voice.
He'd brewed ancient versions of modern healing potions and was about to attempt a potion he had seen in Mezi Hamaki and Saluki Li's book Shapeshifter, the Thousand Uses of the Kitsune Whisker when the door fell open.
It was Sirius Black, but unlike usual, he did not look as though he wanted to kill Severus. As a matter of fact, perhaps because Severus was still so mellowed from the truly magnificent laboratory he was allowed to work in, he did not exactly return that sentiment, either. That didn't mean that he wanted the mutt distracting him right now, though.
"Black, what do you want? I'm busy!"
Black looked pleasantly surprised that Severus had not chewed off his head. "I wanted to see if you were ok. You-"
"Spare me, at least until I finish this up," Severus said mildly- well, at least for him. "Some of these ingredients are worth more than your life is, and this little cauldron," he nodded at the smallest cauldron, in which was a very rare medicinal potion that he'd always wanted to attempt, "is made from a ruby and would probably cost the Prince and Black fortunes combined. So help me, if I mess this up because of you..."
"All right, all right," Black told him. "Jeeze, you can just put a stasis spell on it. You're recovering from-"
Severus did, actually, want to know what he was recovering from, but he was more interested in a cauldron full of experimental core volume increaser, which was boiling over, sizzling in the blue flames the cauldron was supported over. Damn, that could be problematic, since he didn't know if the fumes were safe. He quickly pulled it off the fire, waiting for it to simmer down so that he could try to salvage it. "Go away, Black, I need to finish this. You can't put two of these in stasis at this stage."
Black turned to go, and Severus bent over his cauldron again. Saluki's Law required that the viscous emerald green medicinal potion, used to return a woman's body to its virginal state (usually for rituals, contract-wrangling, or treatment of rape victims) be sprinkled with an exact half-teaspoon of finely chopped kitsune whiskers, commonly used instead of fluxweed in potions meant to change the body permanently. But if he did that just now, then the kitsune whisker would have a bad interaction with the shaved kirin horn and the magnolia pulp. But if he didn't add the kitsune whisker, then it would be too late. By the time another chance to put the whisker in the potion would come around, the pixie dust would already be scorching. If only that particular page in Shapeshifter wasn't splashed with some sort of crusted liquid! Severus spent another minute deliberating and trying to decipher the words on the ruined page, as well as on the following page (which turned out to be another potion entirely) before finally deciding to go with the instructions as he understood them, expecting every moment that the potion and the expensive ruby cauldron it was being brewed in (ruby was the only thing that would not cause a negative interaction with the delicate and reactive amikiri skin) to explode all over him. But to his astonishment, the potion foamed up and then simmered down to a soft seafoam green fluid, without any adverse reactions.
Amazing! What could have caused that? Severus flipped though Shapeshifter again, looking for any possible reference to kitsune/kirin/magnolia interactions. Nothing. Then he picked up another codex (A Treatise on Oriental Magicks), and found the section on kitsunes, and then on the section of kirin. Nothing. This was going to eat him up inside if he didn't find it. And unnoticed, the traces of the core-strengthening potion sizzled and smoked.
He flipped through and skimmed though book after book, but all he could find was the typical: Magnolia blossoms mixing with kitsune whisker cause a caustic mixture that, when mixed with kirin horn, becomes explosive. Not to mention that a combination of kitsune whiskers and kirin horn was poisonous in itself. On the other side of the laboratory, pale blue smoke, heavier than air, began to carpet the floor, filling the air.
Severus saw none of it, as he was focusing on kitsune whiskers and magnolia blossoms. What had caused that unprecedented reaction?
Severus was beginning to be more and more frustrated, and a little dizzy. He attended to the other potions, to make sure that none of them would explode or become useless, but at every break, every possible chance to have a moment to read, he read up on the problem. Nothing. He was beginning to grow angry. He researched each ingredient that could possibly mediate the reaction or stabilize the potion, but still nothing. One of the other potions were bottled. Four more reached the point at which they could be set aside to steep, cool, or, in one case, be put in Potion Master's Stasis. But he couldn't find anything about the problem with kitsune whiskers!
And then, at last, he found it, in a small chapter sandwiched between one on wood elf hair interactions and a note on why you should never add kappa liquid to any potion without adding crushed cucumber first, he found it. Amikiri skin! For all it's supreme reactivity, it had unique properties towards reducing toxicity and reactivity in the otherwise unstable kitsune/kirin/magnolia interaction that had so bothered him. Said reaction also had the benefit of making the amikiri far, far more stable. Severus sighed in relief, putting down the book...and immediately had to stir the medicinal potion before it crawled over the sides of the small cauldron. It was not ruined, but it had been a close call. But thankfully the potion was still sound, and Severus bottled it still warm, to get the airtight seal necessary for a number of medicinal potions, and then cleaned his- no, can't get attached to it- the laboratory, before slumping against the wall. He was far more drained than he would have thought...maybe now would be a good time for a nap. No, he couldn't indulge in that yet. He needed to. Why couldn't he breathe?
Oh, dear Merlin. Severus hadn't forgotten to cast a fume hood charm since his sixth year! Severus staggered towards the door, now, too late, tasting a narcotic, dangerous scent at the back of his throat. He was an idiot! Of course the fumes of the core-strengthening potion would...be dangerous...Antipodian Opaleye scales...mixing...with the crushed coffee beans...the grim saliva...makes it toxic...the world was spinning, whirling around him. He tried to approach the door, but his legs were too weak, faltering beneath him, and the fog in his brain made it impossible to concentrate on reaching it. A thousand bits and pieces of color sparked and exploded in his vision- he couldn't think- what was happening? Mist, dimming everything around him, drawing a veil over the mosaic of colored lights...and then...nothing.