Well, it has indeed been awhile *is lynched, stabbed, set aflame, poked with sticks, and generally tortured by reviewers for the damn long wait* I'M SORRY!! I'M SO SORRY!!! Things have been rather rough at home and not the best writing conditions for this particular fic, as I need to put a little more thought into than my others, and I do want it to be as good as it can. With that last losing of the data I had, stress of school, sports, and all the fights, it's been especially tough, but I'm trying, I swear! I'm writing my butt off to get somewhere with this fic!! I shall finish it come hell or highwater, and with this heatwave, hell is on the rise and the water is falling...so with all that said, let's get going...
Chapter 23- Angel Haze
...or, All seems well...
********************************
No sooner than Harry had left the dungeons was Snape already traveling by floo to the Hogsmede Apothecary. He needed rare and essential ingredients which even his vast personal stores did not house. The new symptoms of the Slytherin's affliction which Harry had described only proved his suspicions about the influence they were under, and it was nothing less than dark magic.
Snape stepped out of the warm flames of the floo and into the Hogsmede Apothecary's shop with an air of urgency. He had no time to dawdle, and even less to get to work.
There were shelves full of many ingredients: tropical plants, precious powders, and vials enough to baffle the mind, but Snape bypassed them all, knowing full well the ingredients he'd need were kept under careful lock and key by the Apothecary himself.
"Sev'rus? Is that you my old eyes see?" a greying man behind the counter addressed him, squinting from under his glasses. Snape murmured a growl in response to the Apothecary and stepped up to the counter.
"I have a list of components I need, and I won't be repeating myself," he stated with nothing less than his usual sneer. But it went wasted on the old Apothecary who knew him better than most did, and was hardly intimidated.
"I'd expect nothing less of you, Pr'fessor." He had a quaint smile, deeply in contrast to Snape's sneering grin, and awaited the usual task of assisting the more skilled customers.
"I need two Griffin feathers, one of a young Bolivian female and another of an elder English male; two satchels of powdered scorpionfish spines; one aquatic carnivorous nightflower; a vial of stewed bicorn powder aged with viper's venom; and a droplet of pure light encased in the body of a dead woodsprite."
"Those certainly aren't along the line of your usual requests, Severus," the man said with curiosity and even a bit of fear, for he knew what those ingredients had the potential to become; deadly poisons, instruments of control; tools of death, and he had never before received a request for pure light.
"I don't have time for idle prattle," Snape remarked with icy venom. The Apothecary nodded in agreement. He knew the man to be one of business and also of remarkable talent, so he hastened himself to get the requested items and disappeared for what seemed a lifetime, thought it be only moments, behind a curtain to the back of the shop.
He appeared a few minutes later, his arms full of variable size boxes and small velvet satchels, and he placed them on the counter and quickly disappeared once more as Snape regarded the items to see it was all there.
The Apothecary returned moments later, slowly and solemnly, with an intricately carved wooden box which held a single drop of pure light contained in the body of a dead woodsprite. It looked very old, and the box itself was covered in dust. It hadn't seen the light of day for centuries from the look of it.
"Be careful with this one," the old man said, gently putting it in the Potion Master's hands. "No one's ever requested it before you, and it's properties are...unique."
"I'm no fool," Snape remarked frigidly, and quickly paid a vast amount for his wares, gathering them up and returning by floo to his office at Hogwarts. He only hoped he had enough time to allow the potion proper brewing before the Slytherins got any worse.
*******
"Griffin quills," Snape muttered to himself, adding two Griffin feathers to a boiling cauldron. He watched the mixture turn from a cool blue to a violent red, and pleased, turned to slice up pieces of slimy nightflower. He added this to another smaller cauldron and took it off the flame while muttering a freezing charm on the simmering mixture, causing a hissing noise to sound as the nightflower melded into the blend.
It was well-past midnight, and he had been ceaselessly working from the moment he had returned from Hogsmede. There was so much to do and age and boil that he feared by the time it would be done, it would be too late. He needed more time, any time, and as made clear to him the several times Poppy had been in to retrieve things from his stores, he knew things were only getting worse. He couldn't risk using a time-turner to give himself more time either, as taking the things with him would have an adverse affect on their purposes and how they reacted in his potion, and he most certainly couldn't gamble with that.
And he was getting tired. As much as he hated to admit it, he was actually tiring from rapid work and lack of sleep. He'd already been up for thirty-three hours, and regardless of the potions he took to stay awake, sleep was weakening him.
The high-level potion he was attempting took a long time to make even if one had the time to wait and stew it accordingly, but he did not, and so he was improvising and alternating with different charms, spells, and ingredients to save himself precious minutes and so hasten the potions without ruining or changing them. The hour in which he would know if it would work was soon approaching, and he could not fall victim to lethargy, especially with the caliber of ingredients he was working with. Things like carnivorous aquatic nightflower and Griffin feathers were volatile enough if not stewed properly, and even when stewed correctly, but he was working with pure light as well.
Pure light, the embodiment of all that is good to muggle and wizard-kind alike, could counter almost anything that the dark could throw at it. But it was rare. Incredibly rare, and could not be given full-strength to anything lest it vaporize into what was referred to as 'Angel Haze'. It had only been used in few extreme cases over the centuries when dark magic could not be forced out with present techniques, and even then it was not always successful to the victim. Of course, it would drive the dark out, but it would take with it the victim and what made them human. There was no time for skepticism though, and this was needed.
This was one of those cases. The specific problem with the Slytherins, as Snape had first suspected, had something to do with the dark wizards or witches unknown, even though he'd had his suspicions. With everything happening with Potter and the Omnivieve Glass and the sudden affliction of the Slytherins, Snape knew it was larger than any of that, and that what they were afflicted with was something far more advanced and dangerous than anything less of extraordinary.
This was Voldemort himself working through the Slytherins. Why, Snape didn't specifically know, but if he was working through these inept children, then he must be desperate. And desperate times called for desperate measures.
That was why he was using the pure light. Encased inside the body of a dead woodsprite was only one of the few ways to preserve and thus ensure the purity remained untainted by dark or destructive powers. It was with this that he hoped to force the dark out of these children should all else fail. Their dream-like trance was the first indicator Snape took as a warning, and the suddenness of the screaming Potter had described worked quickly to confirm his suspicions, although he'd hoped against hope it would not prove true: Voldemort was using the children to spy at Hogwarts. How, he hadn't been quite sure, but the magnitude of what was happening to them signified that one of his operatives was inside of Hogwarts, and that wasn't good.
His suspicions about their dream-state were easily confirmed by some quick tests, but after trials to counter the specific magic involved, it proved fruitless. They were unresponsive to his potions he had easily in store, and it became fairly obvious that it was not the only thing wrong with them. Someone had mixed magics. Through the dream-like state of the illusionus spell, Voldemort could see through their eyes, however poorly, and gather whatever information that the children may come upon. Not only that, but through magic working similarly to a pensieve, he was able to draw out their memories and any information they therefore had in their minds. Unlike a pensieve, however, this information was terribly hard to understand and was often so jumbled that anyone without patience would abandon it. But Voldemort had patience, and many minds working for him, including minions who he could count on to attack and curse random children.
But had cast the spell? It was improbable that it had been a student; the magic was far too advanced. Yet something must have went wrong, because it made no sense, even for the Dark Lord, to utilize immobile, unresponsive children who could gather nothing from peers and teachers alike, even if he could steal their memories. And they were aware of what was happening around them as well, to some degree, which was just as curious if not as bad.
The impromptu speaking to Potter was worrisome too, and their persistent staring at him was dangerous. That's why he'd forbidden Harry to going back to the Hospital. He knew far too much. Voldemort was watching through their eyes. The screaming was a surefire sign that he was watching. Warning the Potter boy would be of great risk to the Dark Lord, and now all the children were in pain for it, screaming, being mentally destroyed a little more after each consecutive hour. After a certain amount of time, they would be beyond help, and that thought alone kept Snape working feverishly to save them.
*******
"Drink it all down...every drop...There you are," Poppy said to a small blond Slytherin as Snape handed her vial after vial of colored liquid, hoping against hope that this remedy would work, otherwise the children would be lost. Snape, regardless of his usual snarkiness and confident composure, was tired as hell and more pale than usual. He was terribly anxious for the children, and threatened them, amid the doctoring, that they had better get well or he'd take off so many house points that Slytherin would be in the negatives for years to follow.
But it wasn't easy getting the children to drink the stuff, much less threaten them to good-health. Poppy had long since cast a silencing charm on the whole ward to keep the screams of pain sequestered to the hospital only. And she had tried numerous things to relax them and end their screams of pain if not do something to numb it, but they still screamed, even in their sleep. The only thing to do was restrain them physically and force-feed them, trying to get all the necessary potions down their throats.
And after numerous tries and several Slytherins later, all potions had been administered and a disheveled and much wearied Poppy joined an equally apprehensive Severus leaning against a wall of the wing. She found herself afrighted, however, when she noticed Dumbledore next to her, never even noticing his arrival.
"Albus!"
He gave her a smile, recognizing her sudden notice of him, and addressed Snape over the screams. "I trust that the brewing of the potions went well, Severus?"
"As much as I can dare to hope, Headmaster."
"Ah," he said, twinkling eyes catching the extent of Snape's fatigue and the obvious strain the waiting was putting on the Potion's Master. "Would you listen to that?"
"What?" Poppy asked, and then her eyes went wide. "Silence." They drew their attentions to the children in the beds, who were currently silent as the grave and just as still. Poppy looked relieved and ecstatic, wondering just how tired she was not to have noticed the change in sound. She looked to Severus with delight, but he did not share her happiness.
"That's only the Griffin feathers paralyzing them. It hasn't had a chance to work yet."
"But it is, I think, having effect, if not a positive one."
Snape regarded the Headmaster with fatigued, worked eyes, and awaited more signs that it was taking effect.
Immediately, the children started to twitch as the paralyzation wore off, and immediately they clutched their heads in pain and started screaming anew.
"Did it not work?" Poppy asked wracked with nerves at seeing everything return to the way it was mere minutes before.
"It's working," Snape stated, watching them as they clutched their heads and their screaming lessened. "The poisons are burning out His influence in their minds, and the nightflower is repairing what damage He's done."
"And now is the moment of truth," Albus interjected, watching with the pleased eyes of one who has just won a year's supply of free Butterbeer.
Snape hoped it would work. Oh Gods he hoped it would work. Just because the pre-steps had been effective didn't mean that the stewed bicorn powder would work in conjunction with the purity of the light. And considering it did work, and forcefully drive out every bit of dark and malice that was Lord Voldemort, there was still the chance that the Slytherins wouldn't survive the use of pure light, even when contaminated with the viper's venom in the stewed bicorn powder.
They all watched, waiting and waiting, as the Slytherins grew still in their beds and gave every semblance and mockery of a peaceful sleep. It was almost sickening to watch, waiting for the decident moment of life or death that all relied on Snape having been in time and the potion having been brewed correctly.
In unison, each child contained in each bed gave a jolt and spasm as their bodies were purged of everything dark and tainted that had ever touched them in their lives. The viper venom rushed through their veins, poisoning and burning everything as the bicorn powder healed and made anew their previously poisoned flesh. The Professors watched as the bodies convulsed and started to glow a brilliant white. The pure light was taking effect on them, but it wasn't supposed to make them glow so. A white mist started forming around them, and all at once, Snape knew something had gone wrong.
It hadn't worked. For all his time and labors Severus had been too late to help them! Everything in his mind, he immediately doubted as he saw the Angel Haze rising slowly above the beds, knowing that the pure light was too much for their bodies to handle.
"Is...is it...?" Poppy asked with a horrified expression if that was supposed to happen as she watched the dispersing mist above the beds.
"No..." Snape uttered, trying to think of something, anything, that he could do to stop it. He knew of potions that could pull a person back from the brink of death, but by the time he'd got to it, he would be too late.
"-Vivitus embodius-," Dumbledore mumbled a soul-attraction spell, and the Angel Haze pulled back together into the forms of their masters, swirling back down to the beds and becoming solid and colorful Slytherins once more.
"Thank Godric!" Poppy said under her breath, and immediately ran to the bedsides of the wholly solidifying Slytherins, checking for pulses and breath, as well as temperatures, heart-rate, aura, and whatever else she could think of. The ancient spell the ancient man used worked to complete the full healing of the afflicted Slytherin children, now whole and safe in their hospital.
Snape slumped against the wall, drained emotionally and physically as the breaking of dawn gave way to morning. Almost too late. Had Albus not used that spell...
He was thoroughly disgusted with himself and his failure. Nothing short of a failure was this, and almost too close had he cost these students, these Slytherins, their lives. "Thank you, Headmaster," he said as Dumbledore looked at him with twinkly, pleased eyes.
"You did very well, my boy," he regarded his Potions Master with great pride, who merely frowned in disapproval. "Don't look so dour. Your brew was a great success. This is a happy occasion!"
"I used too much pure light."
"It's a tricky substance, and you did fine. Thanks to your potions, Severus, I believe that these children can now get back to their studies. I suggest we toast to this and then you get some sleep. Can't have a half-dead Professor teaching our young minds, can we?" He smiled as he made glasses of butterbeer appear and poured enough for a reasonable toast, making Snape take two congratulatory glasses, and then off to bed.
*******
"From what I've heard, they're all better, and Professor Snape says I can visit the hospital again."
"They're all better? How? What was wrong with them?
"I don't know, but Dumbledore wants to speak with me in his office instead of going to see Snape for training."
"Sounds like you got the best end of things, then."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were in their common room discussing what had happened only the night before, when Harry had been turned away from his training by Snape. The following day, in which Harry was very happy to not have experienced anything out of the ordinary, Dumbledore had stood in for Snape during Potions, which was unusual in the least, but not anything mourned over.
Little to say, nobody thought Potions could actually be fun. It was this day that suspiciously coincided with no trips to the infirmary and no exploded, melted down, destroyed cauldrons on Neville's part; a feat which amazed everyone. But Snape was back today, and little to say, he didn't look pleasant in the least. Not to say that he ever looked pleasant, but everything seemed back to normal, and after the latest exploded cauldron, everything felt just as it had before.
But there was the one exception to the rule, and that was that Harry knew that big things were going down inside and outside Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
***********
Well, if none of you guys are around anymore, I don't blame you. I'm sorry it's taken so long (once again) and I'll try to get another chapter up sooner than the time it took for this. But anyway, here's my responses :)
~*For my Darlings who would lynch me if they got the chance:)*~
ParanoiaIn2005: Thankies ^_^ Snape is a prat. He was about the biggest prat at that crazy-ass keger we had awhile ago *Snape looks mortified* That, of course, is the REAL reason it's taken me so long to update- Snape and I were drunk off our broomsticks *is shot scary icy daggers of death- aka Snape's glare* Heh heh...I've really had the most severe...us (had to use the play on words;) Writer's block imaginable, and then right out of the blue, here comes little-miss-inspiration (-name of plotbunny gone on vacation) and here I am writing. I really hope to God I can get this story finished soon (but well-done, of course). It shall be finished or strike me dead! *is cursed* SNAPE!!
PhoenixPadfoot89: I hope you're not as baffled as I left you...That can have serious medical consequences for me having left you like that for so long...Are you okay? o.O
Arizosa: Writer's block is the devil. That's all I have to say:) Yeah, Harry's face does make people scream when they see him:D heh heh:) But, umm...hope ur compy works now:)
bob-the-bear: Well, at least I know you're still out there somewhere. Seen ya often in the PotC:D Anyway, hope everything's been cleared up. To some extent, at least...
Charmed-103: Umm...I guess I sorta let ya down in the "update quickly" area....heh heh...oopsy! Eye-contact was major! Good guess!
mrs-osbourne's-class: Hope I haven't kept you too waited, and thanx for believin' it's original...still...and a fun read. I hope I haven't messed up too badly with the long wait. That is to say, I hope I'm still in the groove:)
me, no, you, er, what?: Thanx:)
Snowelf12: If you've taken me off ur fav's for the long wait, I understand completely. Anywho, thanx so much and sorry to keep ya waitin'!:)
Anne: Takes you awhile to get around to things? Look at this update. Who are we kidding? Anywho, I'm in the OC part of SoCal, so...yeah, stalk me. And thankies much!
Quatre Winter: Well, I've taken forever, but here's that chap. Glad you enjoyed the last one, and I swear to God I'm working on the writer's block thinger. Actualy, I think I'm gettiing over it *knocks on wood* I'm a firm believer in Murphy's law:)
NO NAME, lol: Sorry I've been so inconsistent in updates. In really suck there, I know, but I am trying...soo...rejoice!!
Chapter 23- Angel Haze
...or, All seems well...
********************************
No sooner than Harry had left the dungeons was Snape already traveling by floo to the Hogsmede Apothecary. He needed rare and essential ingredients which even his vast personal stores did not house. The new symptoms of the Slytherin's affliction which Harry had described only proved his suspicions about the influence they were under, and it was nothing less than dark magic.
Snape stepped out of the warm flames of the floo and into the Hogsmede Apothecary's shop with an air of urgency. He had no time to dawdle, and even less to get to work.
There were shelves full of many ingredients: tropical plants, precious powders, and vials enough to baffle the mind, but Snape bypassed them all, knowing full well the ingredients he'd need were kept under careful lock and key by the Apothecary himself.
"Sev'rus? Is that you my old eyes see?" a greying man behind the counter addressed him, squinting from under his glasses. Snape murmured a growl in response to the Apothecary and stepped up to the counter.
"I have a list of components I need, and I won't be repeating myself," he stated with nothing less than his usual sneer. But it went wasted on the old Apothecary who knew him better than most did, and was hardly intimidated.
"I'd expect nothing less of you, Pr'fessor." He had a quaint smile, deeply in contrast to Snape's sneering grin, and awaited the usual task of assisting the more skilled customers.
"I need two Griffin feathers, one of a young Bolivian female and another of an elder English male; two satchels of powdered scorpionfish spines; one aquatic carnivorous nightflower; a vial of stewed bicorn powder aged with viper's venom; and a droplet of pure light encased in the body of a dead woodsprite."
"Those certainly aren't along the line of your usual requests, Severus," the man said with curiosity and even a bit of fear, for he knew what those ingredients had the potential to become; deadly poisons, instruments of control; tools of death, and he had never before received a request for pure light.
"I don't have time for idle prattle," Snape remarked with icy venom. The Apothecary nodded in agreement. He knew the man to be one of business and also of remarkable talent, so he hastened himself to get the requested items and disappeared for what seemed a lifetime, thought it be only moments, behind a curtain to the back of the shop.
He appeared a few minutes later, his arms full of variable size boxes and small velvet satchels, and he placed them on the counter and quickly disappeared once more as Snape regarded the items to see it was all there.
The Apothecary returned moments later, slowly and solemnly, with an intricately carved wooden box which held a single drop of pure light contained in the body of a dead woodsprite. It looked very old, and the box itself was covered in dust. It hadn't seen the light of day for centuries from the look of it.
"Be careful with this one," the old man said, gently putting it in the Potion Master's hands. "No one's ever requested it before you, and it's properties are...unique."
"I'm no fool," Snape remarked frigidly, and quickly paid a vast amount for his wares, gathering them up and returning by floo to his office at Hogwarts. He only hoped he had enough time to allow the potion proper brewing before the Slytherins got any worse.
*******
"Griffin quills," Snape muttered to himself, adding two Griffin feathers to a boiling cauldron. He watched the mixture turn from a cool blue to a violent red, and pleased, turned to slice up pieces of slimy nightflower. He added this to another smaller cauldron and took it off the flame while muttering a freezing charm on the simmering mixture, causing a hissing noise to sound as the nightflower melded into the blend.
It was well-past midnight, and he had been ceaselessly working from the moment he had returned from Hogsmede. There was so much to do and age and boil that he feared by the time it would be done, it would be too late. He needed more time, any time, and as made clear to him the several times Poppy had been in to retrieve things from his stores, he knew things were only getting worse. He couldn't risk using a time-turner to give himself more time either, as taking the things with him would have an adverse affect on their purposes and how they reacted in his potion, and he most certainly couldn't gamble with that.
And he was getting tired. As much as he hated to admit it, he was actually tiring from rapid work and lack of sleep. He'd already been up for thirty-three hours, and regardless of the potions he took to stay awake, sleep was weakening him.
The high-level potion he was attempting took a long time to make even if one had the time to wait and stew it accordingly, but he did not, and so he was improvising and alternating with different charms, spells, and ingredients to save himself precious minutes and so hasten the potions without ruining or changing them. The hour in which he would know if it would work was soon approaching, and he could not fall victim to lethargy, especially with the caliber of ingredients he was working with. Things like carnivorous aquatic nightflower and Griffin feathers were volatile enough if not stewed properly, and even when stewed correctly, but he was working with pure light as well.
Pure light, the embodiment of all that is good to muggle and wizard-kind alike, could counter almost anything that the dark could throw at it. But it was rare. Incredibly rare, and could not be given full-strength to anything lest it vaporize into what was referred to as 'Angel Haze'. It had only been used in few extreme cases over the centuries when dark magic could not be forced out with present techniques, and even then it was not always successful to the victim. Of course, it would drive the dark out, but it would take with it the victim and what made them human. There was no time for skepticism though, and this was needed.
This was one of those cases. The specific problem with the Slytherins, as Snape had first suspected, had something to do with the dark wizards or witches unknown, even though he'd had his suspicions. With everything happening with Potter and the Omnivieve Glass and the sudden affliction of the Slytherins, Snape knew it was larger than any of that, and that what they were afflicted with was something far more advanced and dangerous than anything less of extraordinary.
This was Voldemort himself working through the Slytherins. Why, Snape didn't specifically know, but if he was working through these inept children, then he must be desperate. And desperate times called for desperate measures.
That was why he was using the pure light. Encased inside the body of a dead woodsprite was only one of the few ways to preserve and thus ensure the purity remained untainted by dark or destructive powers. It was with this that he hoped to force the dark out of these children should all else fail. Their dream-like trance was the first indicator Snape took as a warning, and the suddenness of the screaming Potter had described worked quickly to confirm his suspicions, although he'd hoped against hope it would not prove true: Voldemort was using the children to spy at Hogwarts. How, he hadn't been quite sure, but the magnitude of what was happening to them signified that one of his operatives was inside of Hogwarts, and that wasn't good.
His suspicions about their dream-state were easily confirmed by some quick tests, but after trials to counter the specific magic involved, it proved fruitless. They were unresponsive to his potions he had easily in store, and it became fairly obvious that it was not the only thing wrong with them. Someone had mixed magics. Through the dream-like state of the illusionus spell, Voldemort could see through their eyes, however poorly, and gather whatever information that the children may come upon. Not only that, but through magic working similarly to a pensieve, he was able to draw out their memories and any information they therefore had in their minds. Unlike a pensieve, however, this information was terribly hard to understand and was often so jumbled that anyone without patience would abandon it. But Voldemort had patience, and many minds working for him, including minions who he could count on to attack and curse random children.
But had cast the spell? It was improbable that it had been a student; the magic was far too advanced. Yet something must have went wrong, because it made no sense, even for the Dark Lord, to utilize immobile, unresponsive children who could gather nothing from peers and teachers alike, even if he could steal their memories. And they were aware of what was happening around them as well, to some degree, which was just as curious if not as bad.
The impromptu speaking to Potter was worrisome too, and their persistent staring at him was dangerous. That's why he'd forbidden Harry to going back to the Hospital. He knew far too much. Voldemort was watching through their eyes. The screaming was a surefire sign that he was watching. Warning the Potter boy would be of great risk to the Dark Lord, and now all the children were in pain for it, screaming, being mentally destroyed a little more after each consecutive hour. After a certain amount of time, they would be beyond help, and that thought alone kept Snape working feverishly to save them.
*******
"Drink it all down...every drop...There you are," Poppy said to a small blond Slytherin as Snape handed her vial after vial of colored liquid, hoping against hope that this remedy would work, otherwise the children would be lost. Snape, regardless of his usual snarkiness and confident composure, was tired as hell and more pale than usual. He was terribly anxious for the children, and threatened them, amid the doctoring, that they had better get well or he'd take off so many house points that Slytherin would be in the negatives for years to follow.
But it wasn't easy getting the children to drink the stuff, much less threaten them to good-health. Poppy had long since cast a silencing charm on the whole ward to keep the screams of pain sequestered to the hospital only. And she had tried numerous things to relax them and end their screams of pain if not do something to numb it, but they still screamed, even in their sleep. The only thing to do was restrain them physically and force-feed them, trying to get all the necessary potions down their throats.
And after numerous tries and several Slytherins later, all potions had been administered and a disheveled and much wearied Poppy joined an equally apprehensive Severus leaning against a wall of the wing. She found herself afrighted, however, when she noticed Dumbledore next to her, never even noticing his arrival.
"Albus!"
He gave her a smile, recognizing her sudden notice of him, and addressed Snape over the screams. "I trust that the brewing of the potions went well, Severus?"
"As much as I can dare to hope, Headmaster."
"Ah," he said, twinkling eyes catching the extent of Snape's fatigue and the obvious strain the waiting was putting on the Potion's Master. "Would you listen to that?"
"What?" Poppy asked, and then her eyes went wide. "Silence." They drew their attentions to the children in the beds, who were currently silent as the grave and just as still. Poppy looked relieved and ecstatic, wondering just how tired she was not to have noticed the change in sound. She looked to Severus with delight, but he did not share her happiness.
"That's only the Griffin feathers paralyzing them. It hasn't had a chance to work yet."
"But it is, I think, having effect, if not a positive one."
Snape regarded the Headmaster with fatigued, worked eyes, and awaited more signs that it was taking effect.
Immediately, the children started to twitch as the paralyzation wore off, and immediately they clutched their heads in pain and started screaming anew.
"Did it not work?" Poppy asked wracked with nerves at seeing everything return to the way it was mere minutes before.
"It's working," Snape stated, watching them as they clutched their heads and their screaming lessened. "The poisons are burning out His influence in their minds, and the nightflower is repairing what damage He's done."
"And now is the moment of truth," Albus interjected, watching with the pleased eyes of one who has just won a year's supply of free Butterbeer.
Snape hoped it would work. Oh Gods he hoped it would work. Just because the pre-steps had been effective didn't mean that the stewed bicorn powder would work in conjunction with the purity of the light. And considering it did work, and forcefully drive out every bit of dark and malice that was Lord Voldemort, there was still the chance that the Slytherins wouldn't survive the use of pure light, even when contaminated with the viper's venom in the stewed bicorn powder.
They all watched, waiting and waiting, as the Slytherins grew still in their beds and gave every semblance and mockery of a peaceful sleep. It was almost sickening to watch, waiting for the decident moment of life or death that all relied on Snape having been in time and the potion having been brewed correctly.
In unison, each child contained in each bed gave a jolt and spasm as their bodies were purged of everything dark and tainted that had ever touched them in their lives. The viper venom rushed through their veins, poisoning and burning everything as the bicorn powder healed and made anew their previously poisoned flesh. The Professors watched as the bodies convulsed and started to glow a brilliant white. The pure light was taking effect on them, but it wasn't supposed to make them glow so. A white mist started forming around them, and all at once, Snape knew something had gone wrong.
It hadn't worked. For all his time and labors Severus had been too late to help them! Everything in his mind, he immediately doubted as he saw the Angel Haze rising slowly above the beds, knowing that the pure light was too much for their bodies to handle.
"Is...is it...?" Poppy asked with a horrified expression if that was supposed to happen as she watched the dispersing mist above the beds.
"No..." Snape uttered, trying to think of something, anything, that he could do to stop it. He knew of potions that could pull a person back from the brink of death, but by the time he'd got to it, he would be too late.
"-Vivitus embodius-," Dumbledore mumbled a soul-attraction spell, and the Angel Haze pulled back together into the forms of their masters, swirling back down to the beds and becoming solid and colorful Slytherins once more.
"Thank Godric!" Poppy said under her breath, and immediately ran to the bedsides of the wholly solidifying Slytherins, checking for pulses and breath, as well as temperatures, heart-rate, aura, and whatever else she could think of. The ancient spell the ancient man used worked to complete the full healing of the afflicted Slytherin children, now whole and safe in their hospital.
Snape slumped against the wall, drained emotionally and physically as the breaking of dawn gave way to morning. Almost too late. Had Albus not used that spell...
He was thoroughly disgusted with himself and his failure. Nothing short of a failure was this, and almost too close had he cost these students, these Slytherins, their lives. "Thank you, Headmaster," he said as Dumbledore looked at him with twinkly, pleased eyes.
"You did very well, my boy," he regarded his Potions Master with great pride, who merely frowned in disapproval. "Don't look so dour. Your brew was a great success. This is a happy occasion!"
"I used too much pure light."
"It's a tricky substance, and you did fine. Thanks to your potions, Severus, I believe that these children can now get back to their studies. I suggest we toast to this and then you get some sleep. Can't have a half-dead Professor teaching our young minds, can we?" He smiled as he made glasses of butterbeer appear and poured enough for a reasonable toast, making Snape take two congratulatory glasses, and then off to bed.
*******
"From what I've heard, they're all better, and Professor Snape says I can visit the hospital again."
"They're all better? How? What was wrong with them?
"I don't know, but Dumbledore wants to speak with me in his office instead of going to see Snape for training."
"Sounds like you got the best end of things, then."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were in their common room discussing what had happened only the night before, when Harry had been turned away from his training by Snape. The following day, in which Harry was very happy to not have experienced anything out of the ordinary, Dumbledore had stood in for Snape during Potions, which was unusual in the least, but not anything mourned over.
Little to say, nobody thought Potions could actually be fun. It was this day that suspiciously coincided with no trips to the infirmary and no exploded, melted down, destroyed cauldrons on Neville's part; a feat which amazed everyone. But Snape was back today, and little to say, he didn't look pleasant in the least. Not to say that he ever looked pleasant, but everything seemed back to normal, and after the latest exploded cauldron, everything felt just as it had before.
But there was the one exception to the rule, and that was that Harry knew that big things were going down inside and outside Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
***********
Well, if none of you guys are around anymore, I don't blame you. I'm sorry it's taken so long (once again) and I'll try to get another chapter up sooner than the time it took for this. But anyway, here's my responses :)
~*For my Darlings who would lynch me if they got the chance:)*~
ParanoiaIn2005: Thankies ^_^ Snape is a prat. He was about the biggest prat at that crazy-ass keger we had awhile ago *Snape looks mortified* That, of course, is the REAL reason it's taken me so long to update- Snape and I were drunk off our broomsticks *is shot scary icy daggers of death- aka Snape's glare* Heh heh...I've really had the most severe...us (had to use the play on words;) Writer's block imaginable, and then right out of the blue, here comes little-miss-inspiration (-name of plotbunny gone on vacation) and here I am writing. I really hope to God I can get this story finished soon (but well-done, of course). It shall be finished or strike me dead! *is cursed* SNAPE!!
PhoenixPadfoot89: I hope you're not as baffled as I left you...That can have serious medical consequences for me having left you like that for so long...Are you okay? o.O
Arizosa: Writer's block is the devil. That's all I have to say:) Yeah, Harry's face does make people scream when they see him:D heh heh:) But, umm...hope ur compy works now:)
bob-the-bear: Well, at least I know you're still out there somewhere. Seen ya often in the PotC:D Anyway, hope everything's been cleared up. To some extent, at least...
Charmed-103: Umm...I guess I sorta let ya down in the "update quickly" area....heh heh...oopsy! Eye-contact was major! Good guess!
mrs-osbourne's-class: Hope I haven't kept you too waited, and thanx for believin' it's original...still...and a fun read. I hope I haven't messed up too badly with the long wait. That is to say, I hope I'm still in the groove:)
me, no, you, er, what?: Thanx:)
Snowelf12: If you've taken me off ur fav's for the long wait, I understand completely. Anywho, thanx so much and sorry to keep ya waitin'!:)
Anne: Takes you awhile to get around to things? Look at this update. Who are we kidding? Anywho, I'm in the OC part of SoCal, so...yeah, stalk me. And thankies much!
Quatre Winter: Well, I've taken forever, but here's that chap. Glad you enjoyed the last one, and I swear to God I'm working on the writer's block thinger. Actualy, I think I'm gettiing over it *knocks on wood* I'm a firm believer in Murphy's law:)
NO NAME, lol: Sorry I've been so inconsistent in updates. In really suck there, I know, but I am trying...soo...rejoice!!